Show-Off: Chapter 35 posted 22/11

[PancaKe]

I cried at the end of last chapter.

As per usual, I find that your chapters are so long that 1) I think they're over before they really are & 2) I forget comments from the beginning of the chapter to the end. Any criticisms I had before were ironed out completely as the ending was so magnificent. You tore them away from the town at a fantastic time, it was just as the audience was settled and enjoying their Azalea adventures. I did think that Celia and the others were in on it all along though, that would have been another twist for another time most likely.

YAY

[Chris 2.1]

Pancake: It sucked, right? I was a bit sad too...thanks for reading, I'm so glad you get a lot from the fic.

Ok guys I have been busy with job interviews (got a job in London whoooo) and so I've been a little busy.

Next

The next part of The Golden Arc. Morty and Jasmine go investigate a Pokemon theft in Azalea.

THEN

Milo and Jake's road trip to Violet City. It's involves a hit n run :p

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

No, Eli

Oscar is sickening. Actually, no, he's just gone mad. He lost his job, his house, everything, yes, but to start killing people - that's a low way to live.

I loved how you portraited the 'small love' between Jasmine and Morty in the beginning and than totally ripped it with the gun. Cool.

Chuck eh, most interesting.

Keep it up!

[Chris 2.1]

Hey guys, new chapter! Hope you are all having a wicked christmas and new year!

Show-Off
-XXIV-
Painkiller

She looked hungry, hopping along the hot earth and pecking quickly. It was a hot day and the soiled path was dry and parched. Nipping a flea tucked beneath her wing, the Pidgey looked around - it was quiet here, with no wind. Serenity, it must be said.

A bolt of lightning rocketed through the air and smashed into the ground, startling the bird. A huge metallic creature cartwheeled along the road emitting bright, hot sparks. Pidgey looked to the skies and bolted; this was far too dangerous.

The Magneton let off a tinkling screech as a ball of fire was launched in his direction. Sweeping into the sky he used his eyes to detect the source of the extra heat; a black dog bounded and leapt along through the dry, brittle grass.

“Shock wave!” came Milo’s cry.

Magneton nodded and his magnetic units throbbed dimly; a ball of sparks burst from his shiny body towards the young foe; sensing the impending attack, it leapt to the side, but the large orb burst into two smaller balls of lightning. Soon each of these burst again, and again, until a fizzing web of electricity smashed into Houndour and hurtled the dog to the ground.

The dog got up and snarled, but it seemed the steel type was not intimidated easily. With his body pulsating, Magneton unleashed a swift attack to rain down on the opponent. Houndour was lithe, leaping left and right as the stars peppered the ground.

“Thunderwave!”

Houndour let out a roar and blasted another fireball into the air, causing Magneton to spin out the way. The electric tendrils fired off at the wrong angle and missed completely.

Milo’s heart was beating wildly as he ran along the path to watch the battle. Cecilia’s car was parked nearby and he had been taking a quick break on the road to Cherrygrove when the wild Pokemon came into view. Houndour’s fire attacks ignited a passion in Milo that he hadn’t felt for some time.

“Lock-on!” he cried. With his eyes flashing red, Magneton focused on Houndour’s form. The dog barked loudly and seemed to know what was coming; he began blasting more and more fire from his fanged mouth in an attempt to strike Magneton.

However the Pokemon unleashed a wild bolt that flew through the air and blasted into Houndour. His body twitched and spasmed as he was thrown off his feet; Milo saw him roll along the ground nearby and eagerly ordered another attack.

“Sonicboom!”

With a shattering crack, Magneton unleashed a powerful blast of energy that smashed into Houndour further. Milo smiled at the creature as it lay on the ground, seemingly without the strength to fight back. He felt in his pocket for a Pokeball to catch the beast when he realised he had none.

In fact, he hadn’t bought Pokeballs for some time.

Jake had lent him the sparkly disco-ball for when he captured Totodile all those months back. Scyther was caught with a special Park Ball, and Magnemite had been captured on the outskirts of Goldenrod City with a regular Pokeball Milo had found in a dustbin. He was too far from any shops to buy any now, and as the black dog stirred, Milo bit his lip in frustration.

“Are you going to catch that?” came a voice.

Milo looked to see a plump girl watching from afar.

“Erm,” he said. “I am, yea. But…no Pokeballs!”

“I have some,” the girl said, reaching into a shoulder bag. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Milo said. The girl cleared her throat.

“£80.”

“What!?” Milo said. “They cost £50 in stores!”

“Then go to a store!” the girl said, smiling. “And let that Pokemon get away…”

“Fucking hell,” Milo said, reaching into his wallet. Houndour was starting to stir, and he needed to try capturing it as soon as possible. After giving the girl the money, and receiving the blue and red Great Ball, Milo rubbed the dirt from it and looked back at his prey.

“Magneton,” Milo said. “Fire a thunder wave to keep it in place.”

Magneton bleeped and unleashed a string of fizzing sparks that smashed into Houndour’s frame and caused him to shudder and shake. Magneton’s accuracy was excellent.

“Okay,” Milo said, arching his arm back. He threw the ball into the air, watching it soar towards Houndour and tap into the dog’s body. The ball flipped back and burst open, pulling the creature inside with a strong, twinkling blue light.

The ball, once full, snapped shut and fell into the dry grass. Milo watched keenly as the ball wiggled; Houndour was trying to get out, trying to fight the force of the Pokeball. After a while, he gave up, surrendering to the strong output. The ball let off a ping.

“It worked!” Milo said, smiling. “Get in!”

Medicham, who had been watching this while sitting on the bonnet of Cecilia’s car, clicked her fingers, and the Great Ball sailed through the air and into Milo’s waiting hands. The Great Ball was scratched and had a small dent in the top, but it was a handsome colour, and Milo was excited at training the Pokemon inside.

“Thanks for your help, Magneton,” Milo said.

“And thanks to me,” the plump girl called, jabbing her thumb into her chest.

“Yea, thanks,” Milo said. “Fucking rip-off merchant.”

“Hey, I did you a favour,” she said.

“Well thanks,” he replied. “I’m Milo.”

“I know who you are, Milo Mitchelson,” she replied smugly.

“How?”

“We’ve met before, at the Olivine Contest,” the girl said. “I’m Nanette. Nanette Babcock?”

Milo stared vacantly at her.

“I sat next to you backstage. We were both in awe at the beautiful Gina Gourmante. You said I smelled of wet dog.”

Milo gave a light shrug.

“You don’t remember!?”

“No! I do,” Milo lied. “But. I have…a…tumour?”

“A tumour?”

“It makes me forget…names.”

“But you recognise my face?” Nanette retorted.

Milo looked at the girl - the epitome of pity - and realised he would definitely remember a girl who looked like this. She resembled a squashed cream cake; she wore bright garish clothes that didn’t match and her cheeks were rosy red.

“No,” Milo said. “Um. My tumour makes me forget faces.”

“Oh quit with the tumour story, it’s very bad taste,” Nanette snapped. “You should be ashamed of yourself Milo.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. Nanette pulled a sour face.

“It’s fine,” she sniffed. “Happens, I suppose.”

“So are you heading to Cherrygrove?” Milo asked.

“I am, indeed,” she said. “Competing in the contest. You?”

“Same,” Milo said. “Competing for my fourth contest ribbon.”

“Fourth?” Nanette said. “But you haven’t been doing this long at all! That’s very impressive. A mean feat, I suppose.”

“How many do you have,” Milo asked.

“Still the one,” Nanette said. “Here’s hoping I get my second in Cherrygrove.”

“Hmm, well, we’ll see,” Milo said, trying not to stifle a laugh. “Look, I feel like a massive douche for forgetting you. I’m driving to Cherrygrove City, so, do you want a lift?”

“Oh! Well that would be wonderful,” Nanette said, clasping her hands together. “I hate walking. I don’t have any stamina. It’s because I have a condition.”

Can’t-put-the-cake-down-itis, Milo thought.

“It won’t take long at all,” Milo said. He got out Magneton’s Pokeball and recalled him. “Medi, you’re gonna have to take the back seat.”

Medicham placed a hand on her hip and rolled her eyes as Nanette got in the front seat of the car. Milo got into the drivers side and shut the door.

“Can the seat move back?” Nanette said, struggling with a lever by the side.

“It should,” Milo said, starting the car up.

“It’s not working,” she said, her knees forced against the dashboard. Milo looked in the mirror and saw Medicham using her psychic to force the seat as far forward as possible.

He decided not to say anything. The journey would be far more enjoyable.

*

Nanette Babcock, it seemed, came from good stock. She was an animated character and enjoyed talking during the drive through countryside to Cherrygrove. Medicham lay across the back seats, bored with the girl’s chatter, but Milo thought it was nice having a bit of company.

The girl had competed in almost every contest hall in Johto but still had only one ribbon. From her stories, it sounded as if her team was underdeveloped, and she didn’t spend time training them at all. Milo wondered how on earth she got the first ribbon, but kept his thoughts to himself.

She was halfway through a story, with Milo paying more attention to the road than listening to what she had to say. Their drive was quiet, tranquil, and the roaring crash of the ocean could be heard as they neared the coast.

“And Luna was like, you should definitely do that,” Nanette babbled.

“Luna?” Milo said, coming out a trance. “Luna Fuerte?”

“Yes,” Nanette said. “Were you not listening?”

“Not one bit,” Milo muttered. “You know Luna?”

“We’re best friends!” Nanette cried. “Honestly Milo, you’ll never get laid if you don’t pay women attention.”

“I do just fine, thank you,” Milo said.

“As I was saying, Luna and I go way back. It was her that inspired me to get into coordinating.”

“I…I met her in Ecruteak,” Milo said. “And I saw her win the Violet City Ribbon.”

“Oh yes, she’s doing very well,” Nanette said. “We used to travel together, but I was slowing Luna down, you see.”

“Oh, right.”

“It’s just that I lack stamina, I suppose,” Nanette mused. “But Luna did talk about you at some length. She was very impressed by your coordinating, I gather.”

“Where is she now?”

“I don’t know what she planned after Violet City,” Nanette admitted. “Neither does she. Luna follows her instincts, never plans a thing.”

Milo gripped the wheel and looked back at the road. Nanette Babcock may have some benefits after all.

*

It seemed different without Milo. Jake sat at a table in a funky Violet City Café and felt the power of everything around him - the blue of the sky, the height of the buildings, the chatter and bustle of people - it all felt a bit intense.

Still, it was probably good they had some time apart. Jake felt sad that Milo forgot their heart-to-heart the previous night and wondered what he should do, but put his feelings to one side as Gina came down the street.

She looked stunning in a Rolling Stones t-shirt and ripped jeans. It was so casual but clever, and even walking down the street Gina captured the essence of a runway model.

“You look great,” Jake said, smiling as Gina sat down with him.

“You’re sweet,” she said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “Missing Milo?”

“A little,” Jake admitted. “I’m not sure what to do without him.”

“Well why did you choose to stay here?” Gina asked.

“I just felt…I needed some space. Especially since I told him…you know,” Jake said. Gina nodded. “It is nice to be apart, and just breathe a bit of fresh air. But I was really concerned about you, Gina.”

“Me?” she asked.

“Glamour model turned pole-dancer? What’s that about?”

“Well, when you put it like that!” Gina said, cackling. Her laugh was spiky, rough and abrasive, but there was an odd charm in it. “After I lost the Goldenrod Contest, I lost my modelling contract. And I knew that if I was going to get more interest from agents, I’d have to win another ribbon. I came to Violet City to do just that.

“But times were hard, and I hadn’t trained much. I lost in my first attempt at the contest and my confidence was shattered. I started waitressing at TupTup, just to earn a little money, you know. And then the owner of the club told me about the exclusive members area downstairs. Would I be interested in doing some dancing, he said? I said no until I realised how much money you make.

“So I sold out. Started hanging out in the cultural gutter of the city. But it’s fine. I have a roof over my head.”

“What about your contest career?” Jake said. “Milo has three ribbons now. And it sounds like you haven’t got much further. If you don’t work hard, you won’t make it to the Grand Festival!”

Gina sighed.

“I know,” she said. “But I can’t leave Violet City yet.”

“Why not?” Jake asked. Gina sniffed.

“I was hard done-by a while back…and I had to resort to desperate measures to get by.”

“What do you mean?” Jake asked. “Gina?”

“I sold my Misdreavus,” she said. “To a Pawn Shop in town.”

“Oh my god,” Jake said. “Gina!”

“I know! I’m a terrible person!” Gina said. “But I needed money, badly! And Misdreavus are rare. I want her back, but the guy has doubled the price I got paid for her. I don’t want to leave until I can earn the money to get my Pokemon back.”

“You can’t wait around that long!” Jake said. “What if she gets sold to someone else?”

“Well…”

“We’ve both been the victim of thefts,” Jake said to her. “And I won’t have you lose another Pokemon because of this. Gina, we’re going to get your Pokemon back tonight.”

“How?” she asked.

“We’ll break in,” Jake said firmly.

*

Cherrygrove was the ultimate seaside destination in the Johto region. It was a small city with a warm climate that sat in a gentle cove by the beautiful waters of the Whirl Ocean. Milo drove the car to the Cliffside and manoeuvred it down the tight, winding bends, enjoying the crisp, salty breeze.

He felt optimistic about the contest but wasn’t quite sure of the regulations. His first priority would be to learn everything he could about the rules. Nanette was talking animatedly about her entries for the contest, promising an explosive appeal. Milo ignored much of her chatter.

“So, er, tell me more about Luna,” he said.

“What do you want to know?” Nanette asked.

“Is she seeing anyone?”

Milo tried to remain casual but he was gripping the steering wheel tightly and had no light heartedness in his voice whatsoever. It seemed Nanette was oblivious to this, however.

“No, she’s single,” Nanette said. “She has always been quite picky about guys. I don’t think she likes to let people know the real her.”

“Is she hiding something?” Milo asked. He instantly regretted such an intrusive question but it seemed Nanette did not notice the lack of tact.

“She’s had a tough life,” Nanette explained.

“Shit,” Milo said. The more he learned of the girl - even the smallest bites of information - the more he became fascinated with her. Had she suffered loss in her life? Maybe Milo could ease her pain. If only he could find her, reach her -

“MILO!”

“Sorry!” Milo said, as the car veered to the edge of the road. He steered it back to the middle of the winding path and apologised again. Medicham was chuckling from the backseat.

Soon the car made its way into the centre of Cherrygrove. Milo was so distracted by the beautiful white houses and the beach front that he stopped looking for somewhere to park, and instead drove around the town at a slow, leisurely speed. It was a breezy, sunny day and a cluster of Jumpluff were spiralling into the sky excitedly.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Nanette said.

“The Cherrygrove residents seen so tanned,” Milo said. They passed a convenience store and a small Pokemoncenter. Milo was reminded of Azalea Town.

Nanette explained she was staying at the Grove Hotel in the centre of the city and Milo decided to take her there to see if he could get a room himself. He was able to get a single room and parked the car at the underground car park.

After unpacking and having a shower, Milo changed into something more comfortable for the weather. He paired his cargo shorts with an aquamarine polo shirt and slipped his old flip flops onto his feet. It was nice to let his feet breathe, but Milo noticed he could really do with cutting his toenails.

“It can wait,” he muttered. More important was the impending contest.

Since it was a small city, Milo walked to the contest hall after getting directions from some very friendly residents. It was a dome-shaped building, pink and leaf-green, and it looked as if the roof retracted, exposing the stage to the sky.

Inside, Milo spoke with the lady at the reception and registered for the contest, which was in two days time. She informed him that the hall was also used as a rehearsal space for coordinators, and that if he was interested, Milo was able to practice appeals there before the contest. Deciding that he needed to pick his team for the contest, Milo went to practice.

He walked into the empty contest hall, noticing that a boy was on the stage with his Sandslash. A few people were sitting on the red seats, watching with intrigue as he practised. Milo’s first observation on the man, who had a thick, gelled quiff, was that he was very long; his arms and legs seemed unusually gangly.

“SSSSandslash!” hissed the man in a heavy Hispanic accent. “Execute the pin needle!”

The mouse, quite slender were it not for the large, thick spikes covering its back, leapt into the air and tucked into a ball. It then whipped around in mid-air at such a ferocious speed that white-hot needles flew out in all directions.

At first it seemed they were exploding, but Milo looked closer. Sandslash was expelling needles so brittle they snapped as they left his body. They popped like fireworks, with shards falling to the ground. Sandslash then leapt down in a spinning pirouette.

“Excellent!” called the man. “Oh! So hot! So hot.”

“That was a great appeal Rio,” said a girl.

“Yea thanks for telling me what I already know?” he rasped. “Ahem but thank you. You are kind. Sandslash let us go and we shall eat mango.”

Sandslash plodded off the stage with the man named Rio. Some of the crowd followed him, but one portly man, holding a notepad, spoke up as Milo walked to the stage.

“Excuse me? Milo?”

“Yea?” he said, turning to see him.

“My name’s Edgar,” he said. “I’m a big fan of your coordinating.”

“Really?” Milo said.

“Yea,” he replied, smiling. “I’m chairman of the Ribbon Club - we’re like a fan club for contests. We travel around the continent visiting contest halls.”

“Oh, okay,” Milo said, shaking the man’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I saw you in Goldenrod,” Edgar said. “Wow. Just…wow! Arcanine sweeping through the crowd in a sweeping mass of flame…Medicham creating clones and fighting them with sweeping fists…and your battle against Christian Dior was intense.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Milo said, beaming. It felt nice to have someone compliment him on his coordinating.

“Do you know who I am?” came a sharp voice. Milo turned to see Nanette Babcock standing behind him. Her face was red and blotchy and she had changed into a rather cheap looking floral dress.

“Excuse me?” Edgar said.

“Nanette Babcock,” she said.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Edgar said, looking embarrassed. Nanette clicked her tongue and turned to Milo.

“Are you going to appeal? Are you even going to practice? Stop standing around talking!”

“I’m just about to appeal,” Milo said, walking onto the stage. Nanette took a seat next to Pokefan Edgar and folded her arms, looking thoroughly sour about something.

As Milo got onto the stage he thought about Nanette’s sudden lapse in behaviour. She had seemed quite cheery before - what had happened since then? He put his thoughts to one side and gripped the five Pokeballs on his belt, before throwing them up into the air.

With each burst of light, Milo’s team began to form, and it stirred a curious feeling in his heart to see this, his new contest team, taking shape. First Medicham emerged, followed by Croconaw, Scyther, Magneton and the new Houndour. The other creatures watched Houndour inquisitively.

“Okay let’s get some training on,” Milo said. “Houndour! Fire a flamethrower at Scyther. Scyther, try your vacuum wave to deflect it.”

Houndour gave a low bark and stood ready on the arena. Fire brimmed among his gums and he unleashed a scorching jet of flame. Scyther looked calm in the face of the attack and began to twist his sharp blades as he span on the spot.

Milo hoped the vacuum wave tactic would work; it would help cover Scyther’s main weakness to fire and would look stylish to boot. Scyther swung his scythes and unleashed the twisted vortex of compressed air. It span across the arena and smashed into the oncoming jet of flame. The fire burst into a shower of embers that rained down over Scyther; he used protect to create a shimmering translucent dome around him and, as the small embers danced on the glowing shield, the mantis executed a swords dance attack.

“Beautiful!” cried Edgar from the crowd. Milo smirked. He loved compliments.

“Scyther go for a quick attack and x-scissor combo!” he yelled. In a speeding blur, Scyther flapped across the arena, his scythes drawn across his face. They glowed with a green energy as Scyther charged the attack. Houndour pressed his paws into the ground and leapt out of the way, but he did so too quickly; anticipating the evasion, Scyther pulled left and followed, before unleashing the double-bladed slash into Houndour’s side.

“Okay, Magneton, go for a thunderbolt at Scyther!” said Milo. He didn’t want Scyther to feel that he was being ganged up on, but it would be good for Houndour to have his captor, Magneton, working alongside him so soon after his capture. It was psychological.

Houndour watched as Magneton crackled with sparks; Scyther sped into the air and slashed strips of white-hot energy down at the metallic Pokemon. Magneton cart-wheeled left and right to avoid the attacks and proceeded to blast the forked javelin of lightning through the air.

Scyther gave a spin and burst into clones, but the first one struck was the real thing; he gave a sharp screech as he dropped out the sky, the clones fading immediately.

Medicham watched on, shocked, as Scyther slammed into the ground. Double team didn’t fool Magneton in the slightest; he saw right through it. Milo could not believe how accurate the Pokemon was.

“Medicham, get in there,” Milo said. “Use a shadow ball!”

Croconaw scampered onto the arena and helped Scyther up, who looked surprised and grateful for the help. Medicham leapt up into the air and teleported at the peak of her jump; she re-appeared opposite Magneton and cracked her knuckles, smiling.

She began charging up the shadow ball in her hands. Milo wanted to work on two techniques with shadow ball, since he felt on reflection that Medicham’s accuracy in throwing meant it wasn’t normally a good offensive attack.

He recalled Dior battling Gina Gourmante in the Goldenrod Contest; his Bayleef unleashed an energy ball, but as it neared Gina’s Ampharos, Bayleef fired a bullet seed into the energy ball, causing it to explode and engulf Ampharos in the energy of the attack. It ensured he couldn’t deflect it.

“Launch the ball!” Milo said. Medicham looked at him for a second, and using her psychic abilities, learned the subject to his command. Charge up a hidden power and hurl them at the attack. Like Dior did.

The shadow ball - compressed umbra, swirling shadow and flecks of royal darkness - was shooting towards Magneton, who, due to a lack of face, showed little expression as it neared. Medicham clicked her fingers and a cluster of small orbs floated around her, changing colour rapidly.

But Magneton span into the air and his eyes glowed red; he used lock-on to target the shadow ball and fired down a thin, accurate bolt of lightning to pierce the attack. Medicham watched, shocked, as her attack was destroyed before her; wisps of smoky energy trailed into the air.

“Fuck,” Milo said. “Okay, go for a focus blast.”

Medicham nodded and cupped her hands together. White-hot energy collected on her palms and bubbled frantically. It seemed as if Medicham couldn’t quite read Magneton’s mind, or assess its state of mind.

Letting off a cry, Medicham fired off the white-hot beam of focused energy. Magneton floated idly in the air as it neared. Milo knew it would deal good damage to the Pokemon, but was distracted as the creature began to sparkle with a beautiful sheen.

Before he could figure out what happened, the focus blast connected and ploughed into Magneton. He still emitted an odd sparkle as he was forced into the wall of the contest hall, obscured by the brilliant light.

Medicham was watching intently as Magneton slowly bobbed back towards the arena. He looked hurt, but still sparkled with a strange sheen. Suddenly, he was overcome with light, and an intense, hot blast of white light - bigger and brighter than Medicham’s own - came speeding along the arena.

“What the fuck!” Milo said. Medicham held her hand out and attempted to block the oncoming assault but it was too big, too fast, too blinding for her to even comprehend. The beam connected, smashing into her frail frame and hurling her off the ground. So much was her shock and pain from the attack that she let out a high, quick scream.

“Medi!” Milo cried. Magneton, although weary, looked remorseful for hurting his comrade, who staggered back on to the arena looking exhausted.

“That’s a mirror coat!” came a cry from the crowd.

“Magneton can learn that?” Milo said, looking at his Pokemon. One man began explaining to everyone else what the attack did, while Scyther seemed to listen intently, hoping to learn more about the ability. Croconaw looked at the new member Houndour intently, before slapping him across the back and giggling.

Milo was intrigued at his Pokemon’s abilities, and decided that a quick rest was in order before he learned the full extent of his Magneton’s powers.

As he practiced, Nanette watched him from the seats, her hand scooping greedy handfuls of popcorn.

*

Monroe McMulligan was a filthy man. His nails, longer and dirtier than most, tapped against the dirty counter of his shop. There were no windows here, so the light was artificial and blue; it emitted a low buzz. Monroe’s eyes drifted lazily to a small, squat television set, but there was nothing of interest on the screen. Nothing in the newspaper. Just nothing.

A bell tinkled in the corner of the room. A customer was in this, his lair, his kingdom. The aisles were tall and long, so Monroe saw nothing of his new customer as they perused the items on sale but he waited patiently, picking at an old cheese sandwich with his dirty hands.

“Excuse me?”

Jake appeared at the counter, looking at Monroe with brilliant blue eyes.

“What.”

“I want a Pokemon,” he said.

“What do you after?”

“A-A Misdreavus,” Jake replied, trying to be firm and decisive.

Monroe looked at Jake; his eyes were not bright and illuminating, they were cold, grey, watery and heavy. His skin was flaky and pale and he was completely skill.

“What makes you think I got a Misdreavus?” he asked. “They rare.”

“A fr-A source. Someone told me,” Jake murmured. “I want it.”

“It’s expensive,” Monroe said in his deep, treacle tones. “£2000.”

“Are you serious?” Jake snapped. “That’s ridiculous!”

“That’s the price faggot,” Monroe replied. He leant back in his chair and smirked, his pouchy, toad-like features amplified. Jake wrinkled his nose at the remark and placed a hand on his hip.

“Hand it over,” he replied. “NOW!”

“Or what?” asked Monroe.

“Go!” Jake snapped. In a flash, a seed flew through the air and smashed into Monroe’s television, causing it to explode with a large bang. Sparks leapt from the box and Monroe jumped away from his seat as if he received an electric shock.

Looking around the corner, he saw a Parasect scuttling down the aisle to accompany his trainer, who was now looking far more confident.

“I’ll knock you out,” Jake said. “Parasect can emit a spore similar to tear gas. You’d be out in seconds.”

“You don’t scare me, boy,” Monroe growled.

“Parasect,” Jake said. “Go!”

Standing back, Jake crossed his arms as Parasect wiggled his hips. With a small pop, a cloud of spores burst from beneath the Pokemon and wafted towards Monroe’s sneering face. Jake smirked as the spores, a soft white in colour, drifted to the dirty man.

But the spores began to stop drifting and hung in mid-air between Jake and Monroe. Jake was confused why they weren’t making their way to the man’s lungs, but he seemed calm, as if he knew what was going on.

“Do you really think you’re the first person to try and gas me?” he asked. Jake was speechless as he watched the spores drift into an air vent lodged in the top corner of the room.

Jake saw Monroe making eye contact with something behind him and turned on the spot. Sitting high up on a shelf near the door was a scruffy looking Mr Mime, with scratches across its body and a finger missing on its left hand. The Pokemon, normally cheery and merry, looked sombre, with eyes half-shut and hair frazzled.

Effortlessly he lifted a hand and Jake gasped as Parasect turned around and scuttled towards his trainer. A strange glow took over the mushroom Pokemon’s white eyes, and soon he started coughing up the same white spores Jake commanded earlier.

“Parasect?” Jake asked, as the fumes coiled around him. Monroe let off a deep, rumbling laugh as Mr Mime waved his one hand around casually. Jake felt a sting hit the back of his throat and his eyes began to water. His knees felt weak - everything felt weak, and his vision became cloudy and distorted…

*

Buzzy blue light stirred Jake from his slumber. His wrists ached, and he soon discovered it was because they were bound behind him by thick, coarse rope. He sat in a room with no windows and a solid steel door, and not a sound could be heard.

“H-Hello?” Jake said. The interior resembled the shop, so it was safe to assume he was held captive by Monroe. “Help!”

A cackle rang out though the room, loud and powerful. Jake felt small as he looked around, struggling to understand what had happened. The old Mr Mime had used its psychic powers to turn Parasect on Jake, and he had felt the full effect of the creature’s potent tear gas.

Where was Parasect now? Jake could feel his Pokeballs still in his pocket but had no way of getting his Pokemon to help him. If she followed the plan, however, then Gina would soon notice Jake had not returned with Misdreavus.

A voice filled the room.

“Get comfy, boy. You’re gonna be staying there for some time…”

It was like an ice cube slipped into Jake’s stomach. The thought of being imprisoned by the filthy Monroe made Jake feel sick. The only way out the room was the thick steel door, which was probably locked. Jake thought of Milo fleetingly - how would he cope?

He’d stay calm, Jake thought. And approach this pragmatically.

He took a deep breath. Gina would be on her way soon.

*

“Would you like another smoothie?”

“No, thank you.”

Gina had a big floppy hat on and a pair of large shades, and sat outside a small café that was opposite Monroe’s seedy pawn shop. Jake was taking a long time to emerge with her Misdreavus, but their plan seemed flawless. If he was being late, it was because Misdreavus was hard to find.

Bursting in, guns blazing, could be bad for their mission, she thought. It was best she followed the plan, and provide reinforcements should Jake be chased from the building.

In truth, she felt silly listening to a seventeen year old boy when she herself was twenty three, but he seemed much more on the ball than she was. Her idea had been to earn money and buy the Pokemon back. Ridiculous.

All through her life, she had been told she was a bit stupid. Her foster parents mourned her lack of talent, be it at the trumpet, at singing, at writing…if she hadn’t looked, as one counsellor said, like a beautiful china doll, Gina would have had very little to cling onto.

And looks helped. At the home she grew up in, Dickensian in its drab surrounds and oppressive staff, she stood out for her natural beauty. Smarts, as she soon learned, did not come easy.

At that moment, a scream filled the air and people looked around to see a man stumbling from an alleyway. He was clutching his throat as he fell to his knees and a waitress from the café immediately ran over to help him. Gina eyed him curiously; he emerged from a lane running by the dubious shop.

“Are you okay sir?” the waitress asked. “Please, come in for a glass of water!”

“My throat…” he gasped.

“What on earth happened?” asked a woman.

“I was talking a shortcut through Spinner Street,” he explained. “And a horrible white spore attacked my senses!”

Gina looked at the opening to the alleyway, running parallel to the creepy pawn shop. If the spores had struck someone in the alley, had they come from the shop? If they had been ventilated out of the building and struck a passer-by, did that mean Jake’s plan had not worked?

A voice snapped in Gina’s head.

Do the right thing.

“I…I need to go and check he’s okay,” Gina muttered.

Gina walked to the door of Monroe’s shop and felt for an aquamarine Pokeball she kept in her purse. Just in case. Opening the door, she heard a bell tinkle and entered the dark shop once more. At the end of the narrow shop was the counter, where Monroe normally sat.

“Monroe?” Gina called. She stumbled briefly; walking in heels was hard. Turning, she saw an old looking Mr Mime standing by the door, holding a hand out. Evidently he had caused her to trip.

“Bring her to me,” came a deep croak from Monroe. Gina saw Mr Mime raise his hand and twist his wrist; Gina screamed and staggered into a large shelf, holding her hands out to stop too much harm. She threw her Pokeball onto the shop floor, and a large purple creature emerged from the bright blue light.

“Starmie!” Gina cried. “Water gun!”

The Pokemon made a crooning noise and fired a thick jet of water from the tip of its star piece. Instead of deflecting it with telekinesis, Mr Mime leapt back, and with a pop, re-appeared in another part of the shop.

“Tackle!” Gina said. Starmie threw itself through the air like a ninja star, spinning and sweeping around a corner to tackle into the clown. Mr Mime was thrown to the ground, allowing Starmie to blast a jet of water and propel him into the wall with great force.

Gina smiled at Starmie. She had caught this Pokemon on Cherrygrove Beach some months ago when it was a Staryu, but had always favoured her Seel over it. However, since Seel was stolen in Goldenrod City, Gina had relied on this Pokemon more, and evolved it with a water stone she had recently obtained.

“Thunderbolt!”

On one tip, Starmie began to spin wildly. Sparks burst with a whip-crack and began to crackle in long coils. Mr Mime got to his feet but was struck in the chest by a powerful bolt of lightning. Gina looked ahead to the counter but could not see Monroe.

She ran down the aisle, with Starmie following. He wasn’t to be seen, but his television had been destroyed. Gina leapt over the counter and wrenched open a door at the back of the room. The sound of the metal hinge turning send a long screech echoing down the tight staircase leading deep underground.

“JAKE!” Gina screamed. What should she do? Was there a chance he was downstairs, or had he left? “Starmie, scan the area with psywave. Try and detect thought.”

She wished her Starmie had the psychic powers that Milo’s Medicham did, but it seemed Starmie had limits. However the celestial Pokemon used its abilities to sense anything emitting thought. It was completely still for several minutes while it did this. Gina could see Mr Mime lying defeated on the ground.

Starmie’s core flashed white and the creature went to the door. Gina followed, running down the spiral staircase with her heart racing. She began to hear noises as she neared the bottom of the stairs. A high voice and a low murmur.

“Let me go!”

“Starmie, use a psychic,” Gina said, as they came to the bottom of the stairs. There was a solid steel door. “Rip it off.”

Starmie’s gore glowed with the colours of the rainbow in a fantastic melding show of light. The door gently wrinkled like a sheet of paper before Starmie forced it off the hinges in a sudden blast. With a clatter, Gina stepped into the room, where Monroe was standing over a bound Jake.

“Gina!” Jake cried.

“BANETTE!” Monroe snapped.

Gina screamed as a grey spectre swept down from the corner of the room. Holding a claw back, he charged up fevered sparks of dark energy and slashed across Starmie’s body with utmost fury. Starmie flew back and smashed into the wall but blasted a flurry of bubbles at the doll.

“Attack it!” Monroe said. Hovering in mid-air, Banette laughed as he swerved around Starmie, flinging bolts of lightning from his claws. Starmie leapt to the side and attempted an ice beam, but Banette teleported behind Starmie and fired a hyper beam into it’s back.

“No!” Gina said, as Starmie collapsed. “Can you get up? Try a double team!”

Starmie’s core was pulsating; she was weak, but she still got back up and glowed white. Copies of the weak Pokemon soon filled the room, confusing Banette. Gina looked around. One clone was by Jake’s chair.

Banette swept through the air at Starmie, claws crackling with another shadow claw, but he passed through the Pokemon as it faded into the atmosphere. Gina saw the Starmie by Jake and had an idea.

“Sharpen!” she said. “Tackle!”

The points on the star Pokemon got sharper and extended slightly; with a quick spin on the spot, Starmie sliced the rope binding Jake. He wriggled out the chair and, with the man Monroe just in front of him, Jake gripped his chair and swung it into the back of the man’s head.

“Are you okay?” Gina asked.

“Fine,” Jake said, checking his Pokeballs. Monroe was out cold.

Wingull, Ditto and Parasect were all there, but he decided to release Wingull to aid the battle. Starmie span through the air at Banette, but he was too quick, and slipped under her sharp frame before delivering another devastating slash to her back.

“Wingull! Air cutter!” Jake cried. Wingull swept along and sliced neatly into Banette’s side with precision and speed; he gave a gnarled yell and swiped his claws, but the gull was already high into the air and blasting a strong wind down at him.

“Go and get Misdreavus,” Gina said to Jake. “Monroe’s computer will show where she is being kept.”

“Okay,” Jake said, running up the stairs with Wingull.

He didn’t have to look for long; once he got to the top of the stairs, Jake jumped into the man’s chair and hastily searched the database on the computer. Sure enough, Misdreavus’ ball was stored in a filing cabinet that Jake unlocked using a key he found in a cracked coffee mug.

Jake ran his hand over the smooth, red Pokeball just as Gina emerged from the top of the stairs. They ran out the building together as Monroe let out a long groan from beneath them. Gina clasped Misdreavus’ Pokeball tightly and beamed as they left the dark shop and emerged on the streets of Violet City.

“Thanks for your help,” Gina said, smiling.

“We’ve got your Pokemon back,” Jake said. “Now we just need to refine your coordinating and you’ll be back on track.”

*

Overall, the acquisition of mirror coat had made Magneton a staple part of Milo’s team. It reflected and illuminated Croconaw’s water attacks beautifully, while Houndour’s devilish flames looked incredible when they were redirected. Milo worked on some appeal ideas for the contest and felt confident things would be ok.

The battle portion was a doubles match, like in Goldenrod, so Milo had decided to use Medicham and Croconaw for that portion. Scyther and Houndour would take the spotlight in the Violet City contest when Milo returned there.

Nanette was walking back to the hotel with Milo, talking about her new diet. It sounded like she had to substitute sugar with herbs, with the result being that the girl had a very curious, hearty breath of rosemary and sage.

“I feel good about the contest,” Nanette said, as they walked into the lobby of the hotel. “Thank god for all the training I did before you met me.”

“Yea, right,” Milo muttered.

He was caught off-guard, however, when something came up from behind and grabbed him. Milo inhaled a deep breath of a citrusy scent and immediately knew who had hugged him from behind.

“Mom?” he said, turning. Meredith stood there, beaming at her boy and clasping her hands together.

“Milo!” she cried. “What a surprise!”

“What are you doing in Cherrygrove City?” Milo asked.

“Why do you think?” she said, stepping to the side. Sitting on an easy chair, a phone pressed to her ear, was Milo’s sister, Mia. She saw Milo and her still face softened as her lips curled into a smile.

“This just got interesting,” she said, putting the phone aside.



Next: Chapter 25
It's time for the Cherrygrove Contest, and Milo is thrown when his sister Mia turns up to compete. How will Milo cope with his sister's presence in the contest, and her so-called 'secret weapon'? Meanwhile, sparks fly in Violet City when Falkner learns about the Membership Card and it's history from Jake.



Notes

-Okay so this is the sort of mini Cherrygrove arc in the Violet Arc.

-Magneton can't actually learn mirror coat, but Magnezone can, and I wasn't sure at this point if Magneton would evolve, so it seemed ok having him learn mirror coat.

-This chapter introduced Nanette. She's a character that was actually supposed to appear in TPML and I couldn't get it to work. When I was drafting out the storyline for Show-Off, I thought meeting a slightly deluded coordinator might be fun.

-She DID actually appear in Ch3; Milo sits next to her and she laments how pretty Gina Gourmante is. Milo notices Nanette smells like wet dog.

-That was inspired by someone I know. Who smells of wet dog :/

-She has a complex story, and to be honest, I don't know what's going to make it into the fic. Originally she had quite a long unfolding background and storyline but things can always change.

-So keep an eye out for her. I like her. She's kinda misunderstood and fucked up.

-What do you guys think of Houndour? To be honest, I knew what Milo's final capture would be, which comes later, and his fifth would be caught around here, but who it was went through my mind for ages. Houndour was a favourite, since it kind of captured Milo's tough personality, and I wanted him to get a fire type after Ruby.

-Other potential Pokemon he could catch included an Absol, Ivysaur, Banette and Sandslash, which I aluded to by having one appeal in the chapter.

-Thoughts on Mia? It was about time these guys met again, and next chapter you'll actually learn some surprising things about Mia. Character development, if you will.

-Her secret weapon is, in my opinion, EXCITING.

-Next Golden Arc chap sees a familliar Ecruteak ex-gym leader.... <3

[Chris 2.1]

Previously...

-Jasmine had rescued the Stantler from Ilex Forest and used them to hide the MooMoo farm, where her parents looked after the recovered Pokemon
-Jasmine killed Adam Anderson, an agent, after he tried to steal Jake's Pichu
-She then worked as a double agent for the criminal company until her cover was rumbled.
-Morty stopped working for Mr Mitchelson after being shocked at how ruthless Jasmine was
-After an attack in Violet City, Mr Mitchelson was accosted by Steven Stone, a man financing some of the thefts.
-Steven threatened to murder Michael's family if he continued to scupper the thefts.

The Golden Arc
Six
Liquid Cocaine

Kazaar the Alakazam was sitting in a very small, dark room. He enjoyed it here; the cold emptiness was perfect for him to transform the area into his own personal haven. Any noise, bright light or movement hindered his subconscious, so he often sat in the old cupboard within Mitchelson Enterprises.

He liked to think of William, his deceased trainer. The powerful, wonderful man, handsome and kind. Kazaar had been very close with William; they had spent years together, and he had developed from his younger forms into the powerful creature he was now.

But as he lay in thought, something flickered in the back of his head. Michael, his new master, needed him. Kazaar opened his eyes to the bleak cupboard and placed a clawed finger to his temple; in a flash, he was in the warm, well-lit office of his owner.

“Jasmine,” Michael said testily; he was standing up, trying to reason with the girl.

“I have lost a lot of respect for you,” she said, folding her arms. Lorelei and Bill were both in the room. “Why are you giving up?”

“We have to,” Michael replied. “The operation against the thefts has to close. It just isn’t working.”

“So you think giving up is a good idea?” Jasmine asked. She walked off, but turned around and walked around her chair in a sort of lazy loop. She looked confused, conflicted.

“It sounds financial,” Lorelei said, looking across at Michael.

“It’s downright dangerous,” Michael told them. “We are a small team…we just can’t do it.”

Jasmine stared at Mr Mitchelson, sizing him up. She could see something ticking in the man’s head and knew something didn’t add up. A glance at Lorelei, then -

“…financial?” she asked. “Financial? Michael you’re a millionaire. Don’t lie to me.”

Michael sighed, running his hand through his short hair. He had tried to pull the wool over peoples eyes; he didn’t want to be honest and tell them the truth. Getting them away from here would be safest, quickest…but seeing the fiery look in Jasmine’s eyes, Michael knew he had to tell them the truth.

“We’ve been compromised,” Michael admitted.

“Compromised?” asked Lorelei.

“Someone…someone has been monitoring our security feed. They’ve been seeing everything that we’ve done. That means they know who we all are, and I was visited last night by a man who is a potent threat.”

“Who was it?” Jasmine asked.

“A businessman,” Michael said. “He funds a lot of the thefts, his company owns the Lucky Carp Casino. He said if we interfere with another theft then he’s going to murder Meredith.”

“Oh my god!” Lorelei said.

“He is having my whole family followed,” Michael said. “I cannot put a foot wrong.”

Jasmine felt a horrible, ice-cold sting in her stomach. The thought of Meredith being followed by agents, ready to kill her if Michael interfered with the thefts…it was sickening. Michael went on to explain about the organisation’s plan to infiltrate the Goldenrod Exhibition Match next week.

“We really haven’t a choice, then,” Lorelei said.

Michael explained that they were all to go off the radar for a while, until he could think of an appropriate way out of the situation. Bill left to collect his things, and Lorelei made a rather inappropriate joke, before cackling and leaving the room. Jasmine was about to go to her locker -

“Jasmine?” Michael said. “Can I have a private word?”

“This is all so sudden,” Jasmine said, as Michael got out his seat.

“There’s more,” he said. “Jasmine, the man who spoke to me was the employer of Adam Anderson. He managed to obtain the footage of you murdering Adam in the Hieroglyph Palace.”

“Oh,” Jasmine said.

“He’s coming after you,” Michael told her, looking into her pale eyes. “And he has the technology to track every movement. Jasmine, he’s going to kill you.”

“What should I do?” Jasmine asked. She subconsciously gripped a pendant she wore around her neck. A cold sweat trickled down her forehead.

“It’s okay,” Michael said, his face breaking into a smile. “I’m going to help you go into hiding.”

Jasmine didn’t understand what Michael meant, until Kazaar placed a thin, bony finger on her shoulder. He stared into her eyes, his heavy breathing ruffling the tufts of his moustache.

“W-Where are you going to send me?” Jasmine asked.

“Wherever your heart desires,” Michael said. Jasmine saw his features warp and distort as Kazaar gripped her tighter; she tried to calm down and think sense but her muscles started aching and a throbbing pain filled her temple.

With a thud, Jasmine felt her face pressed against hard dirt and a smell of old straw filled her nostrils. She began to get up, feeling a sharp pain in her legs, and came face to face with a large, fat Miltank.

“Oh!” she gasped. “Excuse me!”

“Muuuuuurmoo,” the creature muttered. Jasmine saw she was in a small stable, and realised that Kazaar had teleported her to MooMoo Farm. She dusted herself off and walked outside, meeting the heat of a beautiful sunny day.

“Jasmine!”

Her mother ran over from the porch, hugging her daughter tightly. Jasmine felt comforted by the soft embrace of her mother; she really needed this security, this blanket. Lily rushed her daughter into the kitchen, where she hugged her father Mack, and settled down in a chair.

Lily and Mack both assumed Jasmine had more Pokemon, but she had to explain why she was really there. She decided that admitting she murdered a man was a bit far, and instead explained that the man behind the thefts was planning on killing her after she was nearly caught.

“Oh my goodness!” Lily moaned. “Oh my!”

“I knew you shouldn’t be doing this job,” Mack said, scratching his scruffy beard. “Knew it. Where is this bloody Mitchelson character?”

Jasmine assured them that she was fine; she was safe here, which is why she had been sent. The Stantler rescued from Ilex Forest still lived in and around the farm, projecting their illusions to stop anybody coming near the premises, so nobody could find her. She also left her phone and laptop in Goldenrod so Steven Stone’s PorygonZ was unable to locate her.

Jasmine’s parents soon got over the initial danger their daughter was in and showed her to the guest house, a small cottage in the grounds of the farm. It was a light, airy building with windows built into the ceiling; it was small and tall, very quaint.

“These can be your quarters while you stay with us,” Lily said. “Although you will have a roommate.”

“A roommate?” Jasmine asked, as they walked across the paddock.

“That’s right,” Lily said. “We’ve been employing someone to help out on the fields. Here he is!”

Jasmine turned and almost leapt in shock. A shirtless Morty walked towards them, looking tanned and far more healthier than he did normally. He had a pair of cut-off jeans on and construction boots, and his dirty blonde hair was messier and shaggier than ever. He kept it back with a sweatband.

“This is Mortimer,” Lily said warmly.

“Hi Mortimer,” Jasmine said, holding her hand out. She was so surprised to see Morty at her parents farm - what was he doing here? Until she knew more, she didn’t think it appropriate to reveal that Morty worked with her, so she feigned ignorance.

“Pleasure,” Morty said, smiling at her.

“Mortimer is such a dear, he’s been helping us look after the Pokemon,” Lily said. “From Ecruteak, is that right?”

“That’s right,” Morty said. They made small talk, but Jasmine didn’t hear a word; she was admiring Morty’s sculpted frame and the definition across his body. He hadn’t been away from Goldenrod long, so he had obviously kept in good shape all this time. How had she not noticed?

“Well, I need to make some feed for the Pokemon,” Lily said. “Jasmine dear, can you settle yourself in? Mortimer, just keep an eye on the Pokemon.”

Jasmine watched her mother walk back towards the house before she spoke to Morty. They were in a spatial field with a couple of Miltank grazing happily. A Tauros was also strutting around in the corner. Once Lily had gone, Jasmine whipped around.

“What are you doing here?” she said.

“I wanted to help,” Morty admitted, and began telling Jasmine about how trapped and isolated he felt in Ecruteak. Despite being freaked out by Jasmine’s casual violence, Morty said he wanted to do something to contribute to the good work being done by Mr Mitchelson, and he found himself stumbling across the farm.

“Why did you come here?” Morty asked. “Lily said you’re going to be staying at the guest house?”

“Yea,” Jasmine said. “Mr Mitchelson has been found out, and the people who Adam Anderson worked for are after my head. They want to kill me.”

Morty put a hand on her shoulder.

“We’ll protect you here,” he said, smiling.

Jasmine believed every word. As Morty vowed to protect her, she felt safer than she had for a long time.

*

Jasmine had to smile when a package arrived in her room; Kazaar had sent her some clothes and a note from Michael apologising for putting her in so much danger. Jasmine almost ignored it; being with Morty made her feel safe, confident - even powerful.

She changed out her pretty tea frock and into some cropped shorts and a plaid shirt; it was so warm and pleasant here, she wanted her pale skin to see some sun. Morty showed her all the different Pokemon on the farm; mainly ones she had recovered from the thieves.

They spent the next few days looking after the Pokemon and maintaining the farm. In their spare hours, they laid on the grass and stared at the sky, chatting about everything from the Reclassification to Mr Mitchelson; Morty was in hysterics when Jasmine regaled him of Lorelei’s frantic screaming and he was shocked to learn about their assault from Metagross.

The more Jasmine thought about it, the more she realised she knew very little about who Michael employed. Lorelei had said she wasn’t the only one…could it be that he had controlled factions of people in other parts of Johto?

“How long are you going to stay here for?” Jasmine said one night. Morty was sitting on the end of her bed while Jasmine was at the top; she had decorated her room with fairy lights that looked strikingly similar to the brilliant stars dotting the sky.

“I don’t know,” Morty said lazily. Music was playing from Jasmine’s radio. “I have nothing left for me in Ecruteak.”

“What about -

“Rochelle?” Morty said.

“Yea.”

“She’s touring Kanto with the girls,” Morty said.

“Oh,” Jasmine said. “Does that…bothe-

“No.”

“No?”

“We’re growing apart, I think,” Morty admitted.

“Really?” Jasmine asked.

“I think so,” Morty replied. “We’re so different. I like home comforts; she likes skyscrapers and spotlights.”

“They say opposites attract,” Jasmine said. She couldn’t believe she was trying to convince Morty to stay with Rochelle; he was saying the words she had longed to hear for ages.

“Sometimes,” Morty said. He sighed, before catching Jasmine’s eye. “But she couldn’t sit here and - and chill like we do. You know? We’re on the same page, Jazz. Always have been.”

She smiled softly, touched by his words. They were on the same page. As she cleared her throat to speak, Morty leapt off the bed and looked out the window.

“Do you see that?” he said. Jasmine got up (reluctantly) and looked out the window; a small burst of flames appeared sporadically across one of the fields.

“What is it?” she said.

“Cyndaquil, I think,” Morty said, biting his lip. “He’s running across the field. We need to get him before he escapes.”

Morty ran out the room to get his jacket; Jasmine got one of hers from the wardrobe and ran down the stairs. It was like looking after children; they ruined good moments and soured moods. Morty came downstairs shortly after Jasmine, and they made their way after the Cyndaquil.

“They’re not native to these parts,” Morty admitted.

On and on they ran, across paddocks and fields, until the odd bursts of flame got closer and closer. As they neared the outer perimeter of the farm, Jasmine saw the little Cyndaquil leap into the trees and run down the steep hill to the forest below.

“Shit,” Morty said. “He’s escaped!”

“Hang on,” Jasmine said, gripping her Rotom’s Pokeball. “I’ll go after it, and you wait up here. Get Gengar to use Mean Look as soon as he comes into view. If I don’t grab him, I’ll chase him back up the hill, k?”

Morty nodded.

Jasmine leapt over the fence and ran down the steep hill, staggering left and right to avoid trees. It was very dark here, but she could see Cyndaquil up ahead, sniffing the area. Morty had mentioned he was young and inquisitive, so he was probably enjoying being past the perimeter of the farm.

“Cyndaquil?” Jasmine said, wandering closer. Cyndaquil saw her and bolted again; she ran after him, bursting through a thick cluster of trees and finding herself out on an open plain.

She could see the lights of Olivine City in the distance, but as she turned, there was no trace of the farm beyond the woods. Jasmine remembered that the Stantler’s illusions cloaked the place from view, so nobody could find it.

“Come back here!” she hissed. Cyndaquil cried its name, but as it ran, there was an echoing bang that rang across the night; Cyndaquil was knocked off his feet and hurled across the plain in a pool of blood, letting off a single, squeaked note.

Jasmine let out a long gasp and ran to the little creature. A bullet had gone right through his head. He was dead. Turning around, Jasmine saw an all-too-familiar figure standing there, gripping the gun with apparent relish.

It was the pouchy, toad-like man Largo LeGrande.

“Largo!” Jasmine cried, stepping back. He was pacing towards her with speed; for someone so large, he was surprisingly fast. Without saying a word he came right up to Jasmine, who was paralysed with fear, and stared into her eyes with his dark, empty ones.

“FUCKING BITCH!”

He swung his arm and the gun smashed into Jasmine’s head; she spluttered a mouthful of blood and wailed as she fell to the ground.

“TRAITOR!”

He fired two shots into the ground; one left and one right of where Jasmine lay. She nursed her bruised jaw, looking up at the disgusting man who held the gun right at her.

“One of us, that’s who I thought you were!” he bellowed. “But you’re a murdering bitch. Ripping Adam’s fillings out through his skull. What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she cried.

“Liar,” he whispered. “You think you’re clever? Orders been sent for me to kill you. Like Jonty Ink, the journalist. Like all the people who get in my way.”

Jasmine watched him with intent; as soon as his gaze flickered away for a second, she would run. She was only about fifty metres from the cluster of trees she had come from. If she could get there, Largo wouldn’t be able to aim well…and she’d soon enter the protection of the Stantler…

His eyes went from Jasmine’s form to the dead Cyndaquil lying next to her, and Jasmine, sitting, swung a leg up and kicked Largo in the shin. He gave a bellowing roar and she got to her feet, gripping a Pokeball, but in one swift movement Largo gripped her throat and threw her back to the ground.

“BITCH!” he snarled, as Jasmine fell down. He loomed over her, gripping her throat with his thick, dirty fingers. Jasmine felt her eyes water as the air left her lungs and Largo’s face pressed down at her.

Without saying another word, he pressed his lips against Jasmine’s face; she let out a cry as his thick, scabbed lips kissed her, his scruffy features engulfing all she could see; a strong scent of dirt and sweat filled her nostrils.

“GDOFME!” she spluttered, trying to wriggle away from his pressing grip.

“I’m going to kill you,” Largo said, in thick, rattling gasps. “Then kiss you again.”

His face twisted into a slouched grin; he was disgusting.

He got up again, loading his gun. Jasmine was trembling with fear as Largo’s stench stuck to her. She brushed her hand against her lip and felt it bleeding; evidently from when Largo struck her. Largo aimed the gun at Jasmine one more time, but she didn’t feel confident to try and escape.

“Once you die, you’ll belong to me forever,” Largo said. “For ever.”

As he pulled the trigger, however, something black struck him across the side and his aim was thrown off; he looked to see a Murkrow taking to the skies, Largo’s gun in his talons.

“Fuck!” he snapped, as Murkrow flapped away. Jasmine gasped as a figure ran along and tackled into Largo, knocking him to the ground; Morty was on top of him, punching his pouchy face once, twice, a third time…

“Morty!” Jasmine cried.

“Get the fuck off me!” Largo said, his elbow connecting with Morty and knocking him to the ground. Largo swung a foot - both clad in steel-capped-boots - and kicked Morty in the side. He let out a long scream as a rib cracked.

“Little shit!” Largo roared, kicking Morty again. Jasmine ran over to Largo in an attempt to get him off her friend, but Morty had got to his feet and swung another punch.

“Are you okay?” Morty asked. Jasmine nodded wearily.

“Gengar!” Morty yelled to the skies. Largo snarled as he ran at Morty again, but he ran out of the way. Jasmine was instead tackled and felt Largo throw her into the rough earth once more. Largo gripped her throat with one hand and his other curled into a fist; Jasmine let out a scream as Largo delivered a punch.

Suddenly, Jasmine watched as something lifted Largo off Jasmine momentarily; he sailed through the air and was thrown to the ground as Gengar clicked his fingers. Morty ran to Jasmine and held her tightly in his arms; she still smelled Largo’s breath on her.

“Gengar,” Morty said. “Kill him.”

Gengar nodded as Largo, stunned from the psywave attack, got to his feet. Jasmine watched from Morty’s embrace as Gengar’s claws sparkled, and he plunged his hand into Largo’s chest. By phasing his fist, Gengar was able to claw at Largo’s insides.

He gripped Largo’s heart, causing much distress in the man’s face. His expressions twisted as he groaned in agony, but with one quick tug, Gengar ripped out the heart of Largo LeGrande. In an instant, the man’s body crumpled to the ground, motionless.

“He’s dead,” Morty said, his voice a mere whisper. Gengar crushed his heart into a thick, purple mulch.

“Burn the body,” Jasmine said coldly.

Gengar clicked both his fingers and sent sparks onto Largo’s body; flames crackled and licked along his dirty clothes and soon he was swathed in curling crimson fire. Jasmine watched, tears in her eyes, as the dead Cyndaquil lay nearby.

*

That night, Jasmine sat at her dresser, tending to her cuts and bruises. It was past midnight, but they had decided to bury Cyndaquil and she was only now ready for bed.

There was a knock on her door, and Jasmine, in only her silk nightdress, saw Morty enter. Again, he was shirtless, with pyjama bottoms and bare feet. He looked a little bruised around the face, but Jasmine was nervous; she was looking at his feet, which looked oddly square.

“You ok?” he whispered.

“Fine,” she said. “Bit sore.”

Morty didn’t say anything; he didn’t even murmur or nod. He walked close to Jasmine, staring into her eyes, and planted a kiss on her lips. Jasmine was glad Morty closed his eyes; hers had widened in surprise. Morty held Jasmine in his arms and pressed her close; she felt his heart beating and could smell his scent; a crisp note of fresh linen and a powerful grassy linger.

Whether they kissed for minutes or hours, Jasmine was unsure.

She had almost forgotten about Goldenrod City.





Notes
-Yay, Morty's back!
-I have to admit, I was very happy when I wrote this. I wasn't sure if I wanted Jasmine and Morty to kiss at this point, but it made the most sense in the end.
-This part of the arc was quite brief and conversation-based, and I think that was important to have after the action recently.
-You may wonder what Largo was doing around the farm?
-My thoughts were that, after failing to find Jasmine, he was sent to Olivine to interrogate her sister, Eva. But he happened upon Jasmine anyway...
-The next part of the Golden Arc is the Gym Leader Exhibition match.
-Also, the next part of the GA is going to be the last chapter in the arc.
-After a couple more chapters of the fic, a new arc will start, focusing on different/characters/plots.
-More details to come.
-Next chapter: Milo VS Mia! :O

[Chris 2.1]

Show-Off
-XXV-
Bay Breeze

It was the epitome of awkward. After meeting in the hotel lobby, Meredith had been ecstatic to see Milo, and insisted he came to dinner with her and Mia at the most popular restaurant by Cherrygrove’s shores. Nanette was eager to come along, too, and although she did not look impressed with the girl’s clothes, Meredith begrudgingly invited her along.

They dined at The Hairy Fig - a blissfully simple restaurant that looked out across at the moonlit bay. Milo could see Quagsire swimming along and flipping out the water like gymnasts. Nanette was diving into the bread basket and gorging.

“So, Nanette?” Meredith said. “How long have you been coordinating?”

“About two years,” she said, her tone thick as she munched on bread. Crumbs were sprayed everywhere. “Give or take.”

“Quite,” Meredith said, looking at Milo with a horrified stare. Mia, sitting opposite Milo, was grinning like a Cheshire cat as she soaked up the awkward atmosphere. Nanette ordered expensive dishes and was rude to the staff - apparently she thought she was having her meal paid for.

“So, Mia,” Milo said. “How’s the coordinating going?”

“Good,” she replied, smiling.

“Mia has four ribbons,” Meredith said. “And Cherrygrove will be her fifth and final one before she goes to the Grand Festival.”

“Well,” Milo said. “I might win, Mum.”

“Oh!” Meredith said. “Yes, of course. Well, yes! I can’t believe you two are entering the same contest. When I was younger, I had to battle my good friend Mitzy Dottle in the Celadon City Conference…it’s one of the most lavish contests, you know. When you are pitted against a friend or loved one, you owe it to your special bond to give it your best shot.”

She gave a sigh and smiled.

“I’m rooting for both of you.”

She’s not,” Mia hissed to Milo, so Meredith couldn’t hear.

“I might win,” Nanette said, slurping a glass of cola.

“No you won’t,” Mia said, raising an eyebrow at the odd looking girl. She flicked her caramel hair back and surveyed Nanette, who seemed oblivious to the hurtful comments Mia was dishing out. Milo was blushing, feeling sorry for Nanette, while Meredith ordered another glass of wine.

“I think Milo will win,” Nanette said, staring at him. “I saw his appeals earlier, it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.”

“It says here you have a Houndour now,” Mia said, tapping away on her phone. “Interesting.”

“Houndour?” Meredith said, sounding sceptical.

“Yea, caught him outside Cherryg-

“I helped,” said Nanette, jabbing her thumb into her chest.

“What role is he going to have on your team?” Meredith said. “Surely not appealing?”

“We’ll figure that out soon,” Milo said.

“Mia has been very clever,” Meredith said, smiling at her daughter. “She’s delegated appeal and battle roles to all her team, and has a set of reserves kept at home so the can utilise the right strategy at all times.”

“How many Pokemon do you have, Mi?” Milo asked.

“Nine,” she replied.

“What!” Milo said. “Hang on. Ninetales, Togetic, Snubbull, Chinchou…”

“If you had any sense,” she sniffed. “You’d access the Pokemon Coordinators Database online. It shows every Pokemon you’ve registered - in other words, any team members eligible to be used in battles. Except my ninth Pokemon, my newest one…I’ve not registered him yet.”

“Why not?” Milo said.

“Element of surprise,” she explained. “I’ll register him just before the contest so nobody can see what it is. I don’t like people being able to see all my cards.”

Milo gritted his teeth as the main courses arrived. Mia seemed confident in ways Milo had not even thought of; she was being very clever about both her approach to her Pokemon and her own coordinating. Milo made a mental note to find out her other Pokemon - and if the current members had evolved at all. And what of this secret, new Pokemon?

“I have to say,” Mia said. “I was impressed at your work in the Goldenrod Contest.”

“Thanks,” Milo replied.

“We both felt Azalea was a bit of a fluke,” Meredith said bluntly. “You weren’t against strong opponents and Croconaw ran away with you a bit.”

“I hope you’ve put in some serious training,” Mia added.

Milo tucked into his fish and felt flushed with embarrassment. He had been too busy running away from Oscar to really train. He spent today working hard and felt confident in Magneton’s appeal, and had decided to use Medicham and Croconaw in the battle portions respectively. Scyther would shine in Violet City, and Milo could also work on Houndour.

Did he really have a chance of beating Mia at Cherrygrove? Milo had felt quite confident about himself, but Mia’s steely glare was making him less and less sure by the minute. Nanette began complaining about the food as Meredith and Mia broke off into their own conversation.

*

The next day, Milo rose early and felt foul. He felt angry, irritated, but wasn’t sure why. It took a few moments for him to remember that Mia was competing in the contest today and that he had felt worried about his performance. Losing in a contest wasn’t an issue - losing to Mia, however, was cataclysmic.

“Ok guys,” Milo said, speaking to Medicham and Croconaw at the contest. “There’s two battle rounds - single then double. Medicham, I’m going to use you for the single and then Croconaw, you’ll help her out in the double. I think you two can work well together, but I know you haven’t practiced much in battle.”

Croconaw clapped his hands excitedly, looking forward to battling with Medicham. The monkey folded her arms and looked away, but Milo caught her smiling.

“Just remember Croconaw, aqua jet to evade, but then steer it into a strike,” Milo said. “Spin with metal claw as you do it, it’ll earn us more marks.”

He recalled them both into their balls and tucked them away as Nanette strode along happily. Her hair had been forced into two pigtails, causing the skin around her forehead to tighten and give her an alarming look. She sat down in the backstage area and released a Gloom.

Milo held his breath - the weed Pokemon let off a disgusting smell. It was small and fat, a petrol blue colour, but was letting off a weak smile. Nanette began going over her appeal with the Pokemon as Milo looked around the room.

It seemed to him as if the Cherrygrove contest consisted of older coordinators, as he saw many walking around with their Pokemon. Milo saw a scary looking Glalie floating effortlessly in the air; its chunky, carved body was oddly haunting, and Milo surmised that the trainer must have come from far away - Glalie would probably hate these warm climes.

Milo had gone onto the database that Mia mentioned the previous night, and looked at her profile. Ninetales was there - her star Pokemon, and her Chinchou had since evolved into a Lanturn (and, it appears, recently helped her win a ribbon). Her Snubbull was now a Granbull and her Weepinbell remained the same, but Milo was intrigued by her other Pokemon, such as an Altaria and Politoed.

“Wonder what this new Pokemon is,” Milo muttered, wishing Jake was here for him to idly speculate with. “Huh. Maybe she got herself a Medicham.”

“How you feeling?” Nanette said, sitting along next to him. “Nervous? I’m nervous. I’ve pee’d like twice. And Gloom keeps letting off this pungent sap that makes my eyes water.”

“It’s an interesting Pokemon,” Milo lied.

“I’ve got a great appeal lined up,” Nanette admitted. “You’d better watch out!”

“Hmm,” Milo said.

“Welcome everyone!” came a voice. Milo looked on the screen to see a grey-haired gentleman on the stage and the audience applauded wildly.

“My name is Claude Clapham, and I’d like to welcome you all to another fantastic contest in Cherrygrove City!

“We have a fantastic selection of coordinators lined up today from all over the world! But first, allow me to introduce you to the people calling the shots today. Ladies and Gentlemen - the contest judges!

“He’s the head of the Ribbon Society - a specialist club for contest fans and a big follower of the Cherrygrove Contest - please welcome Edgar Edge!”

It was the man Milo spoke to yesterday; slightly chubby, with receding hair, but a warm smile and altogether someone who appeared very likeable. He was wearing a t-shirt with a Skitty on the front and waved excitedly to the audience.

“Thank you!” he said.

“Next, he’s the author of ‘Ribbon Shreds’, the witty and acerbic contest column in The Cherrygrove Echo, our resident Mr Nasty, Portman Picayune!”

Mr Picayune looked serious and as cold as Edgar was warm. His long fingers and pointed chin seemed to emphasise the cold, icy exterior he possessed. The audience did not cheer, and Mr Picayune simply nodded curtly.

“Finally, adding some ‘wow’ to the contest,” said the MC. “A former Grand Festival champion, I give you…Meredith Mitchelson!”

“What!” Milo gasped. Sitting there in a long red dress was Meredith, smiling and waving to the audience. Is this why she came to Cherrygrove?

“Surprised?”

Milo turned to see Mia there drinking an iced slush drink.

“Yea, I am!” Milo said. “Mum’s judging?”

“She’s been trying to get on a judging panel for a while,” Mia admitted. “It’s pure coincidence we’re both here, too.”

“But…surely she’ll give us better marks?” Milo asked.

“You’re an idiot, Milo, Mum takes her job very seriously,” Mia said. “If anything, she’ll be really critical. I’ve heard that Portman Picayune is a bit harsh, too.”

“Oh,” Milo said.

“He once wrote in his column that an appeal from Gina Gourmante was like ‘a slap in the face with a wet sock’,” Mia said. “He can be very cruel, I hear.”

Milo just nodded.

“You ok?” Mia said. “You seem nervous.”

“I’m fine,” Milo replied. “It’s a bit weird, though. I’m going against you, and in front of Mum…”

“It’s pressure like this that brings out the best in coordinators,” Mia said. “Didn’t you find that in the Johto league? You had to go against Gary.”

“It was different, I thought I could win,” Milo said.

“And you don’t think that now?” Mia asked.

“No,” Milo said. “You’re better than me.”

Mia surveyed her brother for a moment, looking at him as she slurped on her drink loudly. Milo expected her to compliment him on his skill, and how well he had battled in Azalea, Goldenrod and Ecruteak City. Instead, she let out a hollow laugh.

“Well, at least you’re under no illusions,” she said, walking off.

“Ignore her,” Nanette said, padding Milo on the shoulder. Her trace lingered for a moment; Milo found it slightly uncomfortable.

“She’s strong,” Milo said, as the first coordinator got onto the stage and released an adorable Chikorita.

“She has one more ribbon than you,” Nanette said. “You’re much better than you think.”

Milo knew he was good at contests; his battling was sharp and he had got used to using contest technique in battles. What troubled him was that Mia knew his team quite well; she was aware Houndour was recently caught, Nanette let slip Milo had practiced Magneton’s appeal, and she also knew how much Milo relied on Medicham in a pinch.

It allowed her to figure out who Milo would use in this contest, while on the other hand, Milo had no idea which of her nine Pokemon Mia was going to use.

But then, Milo thought, as he watched the Chikorita unleash a spiralling twist of pink petals, he never knew what his opponents were going to do. And he was able to pull something out and think on his feet. Maybe that’s all he needed.

Chikorita unleashed two vines and whipped the petals apart; her quick strikes shredded the beautiful petals into thin slivers that danced slowly to the ground as she released a pink perfume into the air.

“You might not even face her,” Nanette pointed out. “I might beat her. Someone else might. You might lose the appeal stage.”

“That’s true,” Milo said. “But it’s like…knowing that she’s in the contest, I feel like if I don’t battle her, I’m in denial that my sister’s a real threat.”

“Huh?”

Nanette pulled a face, looking confused. As Milo watched the Chikorita trainer receive her score, Nanette pulled out a large box of sweets and began eating.

The coordinators today seemed strong; Milo saw a number of innovative and impressive appeals as he waited backstage with Nanette. One man had his Mr Mime run around the arena waving his hands. Nobody looked impressed, but Milo knew Mr Mime were able to solidify air with their hands, and knew the trainer had a plan.

Indeed, when Mr Mime stopped, the judges were shocked; the clown was seemingly standing in mid-air, waving. He gave a final wave of his hands and unleashed a psywave into the solid air walls he was standing on; each shield illuminated with rainbow colours of pink, sherbet yellow and stem green, and the crowd finally saw what Mr Mime created.

He stood atop a wonderful, gleaming castle, made entirely from solidified air and lit up with the psywave attack. The audience began applauding wildly as Mr Mime took a bow and the trainer smirked from the side of the stage.

“Incredible!” said Edgar, clapping. “What you did - and we see it rarely - is you created a sense of suspense. We all wondered what you were doing, and the end result paid off. I loved the colour of the psywave. I give it an 7.5!”

“The creation was clever,” came the rapt voice of the journalist, Portman Picayun. “But Mr Mime? Waving like a lunatic, and ugly to boot.”

At his remark, Portman received boos from the audience, who were cross with his blunt insult to the Pokemon. He shrugged, adjusting his thick framed glasses before he continued.

“While you made a nice castle, you spent so long doing it I got very bored,” he said. “That’s not what an appeal should be about. 5.3 from me.”

“I liked it,” Meredith said, and Milo was amazed to her his mother sounding calm and thoughtful. “You created an interesting concept, and it’s true that what you did is the specialty of Mr Mime. No other Pokemon could have done that.

“I’m going to give you 7.6,” she said, after some consideration. “It was good, but I have to say, the visual took too long. I like to see a Pokemon looking beautiful, not the Pokemon forming beauty.”

The trainer nodded as his final score - 22.4 - was shown on the screen. He held Mr Mime’s hand and walked off the stage, looking slightly disappointed at his score. Milo felt sorry for him, as the crowd loved the man’s appeal. He was also surprised at Meredith’s tone and character.

“Your mum’s a real bitch,” Nanette said, having recalled her Gloom.

“She’s not,” Milo retorted. “She’s normally batty as hell. But she’s a judge; she has to judge.”

Nanette sighed, her thick fingers poking around the corners of the sweet box in an attempt to find more sugary treats. Unfortunately she had eaten the lot, and threw the box to the ground in frustration. Milo saw another coordinator taking to the stage, this time releasing a Golduck.

It reminded Milo of his own Golduck, and he wondered how the team were doing back home. Presumably Andrew would be looking after them all. The Golduck started doing a ballet dance - curiously, it worked quite well, with Golduck bursting into the air with Aqua Jet at precise moments.

It seemed things didn’t change. Edgar was overly positive; Portman was cold and dismissive, while Meredith flitted between the two. Throughout the day she was positive, but often critical with it. A Charmander’s fire-dance appeal ignited passion in Meredith but she still made sure to point out the flaws in it; the Pokemon was obscured by his own flames, and without controlling them, it was more of a health risk than anything.

Later, a trainer who had a Gastly possess various items in the room got a very low score from Meredith, who called the whole thing ‘mildly impressive’. Milo had to agree; making the lighting fixture wobble was more an indicator of a strong gust of wind, not an exciting spectre.

Soon, Nanette was called up to appeal and looked nothing short of self-assured as she walked towards the stage. Milo slumped back in his chair and noticed Mia wandering back towards him. She pointed at Nanette and pulled a face.

“Can’t wait to see this,” she said, giving a long stretch and slouching down with her brother. “Princess Blobbo. What Pokemon does she have - a Stunky? A Lickitung?”

“Don’t be a dick, Mia,” Milo said.

“So what exactly are you two doing together, anyway? She doesn’t seem your type,” Mia said.

“She helped me catch Houndour,” Milo said. “And I gave her a lift to Cherrygrove. She’s not a bad girl, really.”

“Yes she is,” Mia said. “She’s rude, obnoxious and she smells like an old sofa.”

“I can’t argue there,” Milo admitted, causing his sister to burst into giggles.

“I preferred your little stylist friend,” Mia said. “Jonathan?”

“Jake.”

“Hmm. Does he actually style any of your Pokemon?”

“No,” Milo said.

“He should come with me,” Mia sniffed. “And help me. His talent’s wasted on you!”

Milo ignored his sisters last words as Nanette took to the stage, releasing her Gloom onto the arena. It looked so pudgy and limp, Milo felt sure he knew how Portman would feel about the creature. Then, Nanette started ordering her Pokemon to leap around the arena, releasing balls of sludge all around.

“Sludge bomb?” Milo said. “Oh…Nanette…”

It was a poor choice of appeal. Thick globules of sludge were fired in all directions, even hitting Edgar in the face. When Gloom then tried releasing a sweet scent, a thick, pungent cloud of gas filled the room. Some of the crowd even left the hall, sickened by the stench.

“This is brilliant,” Mia said, smiling. “So fun!”

“Er, Nanette?” Edgar said sweetly. “This is quite…”

“I’m not done!” Nanette said. “Photosynthesis!”

She threw something up into the air, something which sparkled. Gloom jumped up and gripped the thick, jagged green stone and began to glow brightly. Milo watched in awe as the white glow - which took over her entire body - caused the creature to blossom.

Her wilted, curled petals fluffed up and spread out across her head. The hideous fumes soon filtered into soft pink clouds of mallowy, sweet smelling fragrance and as the glowing creature landed back to the centre of the stage, the thick pools of tar-like stink formed into shiny pools of glazed sap.

“Grow!”

The light faded, revealing a larger, fatter creature in the same inky blue hue as Gloom. Her petals, however, were large, red and full of pollen. Vileplume caused large, colourful flowers to burst from the sap in the ground, like a fantastic magician.

Members of the audience were applauding wildly; Meredith got to her feet as she saw Vileplume sparkling with an energised glow. Milo was speechless; had Nanettte really planned that appeal? Had she intended to evolve Gloom, to give off a sense of disappointment, only to surprise the audience?

“What the piss!” Mia cried. “Evolving?”

“I’ve never seen anything like that before,” Milo said.

“It’s so risky!” Mia said. “At the 2006 Grand Festival a trainer tried evolving her Eevee into a Flareon for an appeal. But the evolution went wrong; Eevee was too stressed and young to undertake the evolution. She turned a darker shade and grew slightly, but then started bleeding everywhere. It was disgusting.”

“Yea, you can’t trigger evolution at will,” Milo said, recalling his Exeggutor, who he had to evolve at the peak of Spring. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I loved it,” said Edgar, clapping his hands enthusiastically. “Nanette, you showed us that Gloom’s ugly-duckling persona is a guise; beneath her sad smells lie a fantastic floral soul! 7.0!”

Milo saw Portman clear his throat to speak; he looked like he had come across the most precious treasure, the most delicious treat; his fingers locked together and he stared into Nanette’s eyes.

“That was, quite possibly, the biggest abomination I have ever seen in my history as a contest expert,” he said, in slow, honeyed tones.

“I-It was?” Nanette said. Portman nodded.

“You have your Pokemon run around spraying a foul poison in the arena and then use an evolution stone to manipulate its growth in the hope that it becomes a mildly interesting spectacle,” he continued. “You failed. And I’m going to tell you why.

“Pokemon like Gloom, Growlithe, Pikachu - they evolve when they are exposed to a delicate but intense form of contained energy. The energy is pocketed and stored in evolution stones, but these are incredibly rare. They are rare because if any trainer could get their hands on one, they would evolve their Pokemon with no thought to whether or not the evolution is the right thing to do. Like you just did.

“The evolution cannot be spontaneous, and grass Pokemon particularly suffer from this problem. They need to evolve in a certain climate, they need to evolve at a certain age - it needs to be planned. Likewise evolving a water Pokemon requires that the Pokemon is exposed to specific water temperatures.

“Because you carelessly evolved your Gloom during an appeal, you have caused it to evolve before perfecting it’s poison spore attacks. That means your new Vileplume will not be able to use complex attacks as its natural development is stunted.

“Nanette, your carelessness in evolving Gloom shows not only a lack of thought as a coordinator, but an almost inhumane approach to raising Pokemon. I give the appeal a 1.1.”

Milo’s mouth was hanging open at Portman’s cold but calculated attack on Nanette. The audience all watched with baited breath, too, expecting Nanette to burst into tears or shout back. She did neither. Milo saw her face twisting and contorting only slightly; whatever she was thinking, she did not show it.

“A-And Meredith?” said the MC, beckoning her to speak. Meredith flashed a warm smile at Nanette, one she certainly did not use the night before.

“I agree with Portman in some aspects,” Meredith said. “Making Gloom evolve in front of all these people - can you imagine getting ready in the morning or showering with lots of people watching? I imagine it would be horrific. Despite that, the concept of the appeal was lovely. I’m giving a 5.0.”

“That means she got like, 13/30?” Milo said, shocked.

“That is unbelievable,” Mia said, a hand over her mouth. “Shit!”

“Portman was horrible,” Milo said, as Nanette’s score was confirmed as 13.1 and she left the stage with the rather stout looking Vileplume. “Mum had the right attitude, giving her some credit.”

They both turned as Nanette appeared backstage. She stared at them for a moment, not saying a word, but then she strode over and threw herself down onto the seat between Milo and his sister.

“Have you got any more food?”

She was watching the screen as the next coordinator took to the stage. Milo was surprised Nanette wasn’t upset by the remarks Portman made, and looked for a moment at the rather unhappy looking Vileplume. Maybe it should still be called Gloom, Milo thought. It looked thoroughly miserable.

“No,” Milo said. “Sorry.”

“You suck,” rasped the girl, folding her arms.

“So, Nanette,” Mia said, smirking. “Your Vileplume is…nice.”

“Yea, I know,” Nanette said. “Oh, Milo? Think you’re up next.”

Milo looked and saw the trainer who had just appealed leave the stage with his Sandslash. This was the tall man Milo had seen practicing his appeal yesterday, and judging by his smug look, he had achieved a good score. As he was up next, Milo gripped Magneton’s Pokeball and got up to leave.

“Good luck little brother,” Mia cooed, smiling. Milo looked at her and saw the mock-cheery look on her face. She didn’t want him to do well at all. Milo stuck his middle finger up at his sister and walked towards the stage. Mia’s smile collapsed into a dark and moody scowl.

“He’ll be fine,” Nanette said.

“That’s what bothers me,” replied Mia, crossing her arms.

Milo walked onto the stage, vaguely aware the MC cried his name out. Applause rang out across the hall as Milo made his entrance, but he wasn’t quite listening to it. It felt like a pair of hands were pressed firmly over his ears, muffling the noise. His heart beat faster, louder - it was actually rather distracting.

With a deep breath, he looked around the room but avoided his mother’s gaze. Once the spotlight focused on him, Milo threw Magneton’s Pokeball up into the air, watching the clasp open up and reveal his Pokemon in a shower of white light.

“Magneton!” he shouted. “Go!”

They had decided to show-off first; it was only right. As a trail of sparks scattered across Magneton’s body, he sped along the arena in a cartwheel-fashion, with sparks dancing behind him and burning into the air. He looped around the arena, letting off a tinkling screech.

“Okay, get into the center of the arena!” Milo said. “Shock wave!”

Magneton swept upwards and slowed into a still position in the middle of the arena. More sparks danced across his shiny metal exterior, but they were soon blasted out with a sweeping crack. The orbs of sparks split once, twice, filtering away from Magneton like runaway trains.

“Now, focus - magnet pull!”

Working on a skill Milo had planned last night, Magneton focused on his natural control over metals. As positively charged electricity, the shock wave’s tendrils of electricity were magnetised. Magneton gave a long groan and the sparks, which were dotted all around the room, suddenly zoomed back towards him.

Balls and clumps of fizzing, burning sparks swept back as if pulled by elastic; Magneton’s eyes kept surveying the onslaught. Milo waited…

“…Magneton! Mirror Coat!”

As the sparks neared, a trickling mirror sheen engulfed Magneton. All the sparks smashed into his body from all angles, and their vivid yellow and gold hue reflected in the mirrored surface. At the same time, Magneton absorbed the attack, concentrating hard and withstanding the surge of electricity, before he aimed upwards…

In one concussive force, Magneton unleashed a beam of white-hot sparks from his sparkling body. They exploded in mid-air like fireworks, scattering embers and sparks all around the arena. Magneton started twirling and spinning as the shower of light filled the room.

Milo smiled, watching the crowd applaud at his show. He thought he had done a good job himself, but looked at the judges, and wondered if they had any negative comments to make. Once the appeal had ended, Magneton cart wheeled to Milo’s side.

“And now we hear from the judges!” said the MC enthusiastically. “Edgar?”

“Magneton is a very still, inanimate Pokemon, but I felt you showed some fun, some edge, a bit of character, and that made it a very accessible appeal. I give it an 8.0.”

Next, Portman Picayune cleared his throat.

“Hello Milo,” he said dryly. “Yes, you know, I actually liked that very much. My favourite appeal of the day, I think. 9.0.”

It was possibly the first positive thing he had said all day. Milo smiled, glad that he had curbed Portman’s cold tendencies. But what would his mother say? Milo looked at Meredith.

“Hello son,” she said, smiling. “First of all, tuck in your shirt.”

The audience chuckled at Meredith’s motherly remark and Milo found himself smirking at his mother as she spoke.

“Secondly, that was a very intriguing appeal. I enjoyed seeing the control Magneton has over its attacks, but also the way you used mirror coat to amplify the creature’s natural sheen. And you got praise from Portman, which is a feat in itself. 8.5 from me. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Milo said, breathing a sigh of relief. His total was 25.9 - which was rather good indeed. Milo left the stage to the applause from the audience, wondering if that score was enough to get him through to the battle rounds.

When Milo returned to the backstage area, Nanette gave him a very tight hug, enforced by her steely grip. Milo didn’t mind Nanette, but her hugs were quite distracting; she had a very curious odour Milo guessed may have come from her Gloom.

“I believed in you,” Nanette whispered coyly.

“Huh?” Milo said, pulling out the hug. Nanette stared at him with her watery eyes.

“You hero,” she said, sitting back down.

“Um, where’s Mia?” Milo said.

“No idea,” Nanette said disinterestedly, looking at the screen. Milo looked to see his sister walking onto the stage, ready to perform. Nanette obviously had known where Mia was - she would have seen her get up and leave. Milo wondered how he hadn’t crossed his sister on the way off the stage, and looked at her steely determination as she walked on to perform.

Mia had created a ‘look’ for this contest inspired by the beach resort of Cherrygrove. Her dress was in a pastel yellow and she had colourful wooden bangles on one wrist. She also wore wedge sandals. Milo knew how important it was for his sister to dress for the occasion, and also knew her tendency to buy a lot of clothes. It seemed to calm her down.

“I choose you!” she cried, throwing the ball high into the air. As the ball burst open, the white light filled the room but soon dissipated. Mia caught the ball, even though nothing emerged from it.

“Where’s her Pokemon?” Nanette said, drinking a large soda. “Is it a Kecleon?”

“No idea,” Milo said, getting his phone out. He looked on the internet, to examine Mia’s database once more. Was Kecleon her secret weapon? How would it appeal? Milo realised that if he did load Mia’s page, he could see her ninth Pokemon, as it would have been registered this morning.

“Damnit,” Milo said. His phone had no signal; he stuffed it back into his pocket frustratingly. Mia clapped her hands together and a cold fog began to fill the room. Milo wasn’t sure where it came from, but the eerie mist coiled around something central to the room. As the fog filled, distorting the area, Milo saw that the Pokemon had a shadowy form, but it moved with liquid elegance, like a fish in the deepest ocean.

“Now, use blizzard and stealth rock!” Mia cried. The shadowy form swept along the mist, causing huge, pointed bergs to burst from the floor. Some were ragged and gnarled; others were smooth. The creature slowed down as it apparently phased through a rock, speeding up as it emerged on the other side.

“Gather up the fog and mist!” Mia ordered. Suddenly, from the corners of the room, the intense veil began to swirl as if a large spoon were stirring something. Around the shadowed figure, who remained central to the room, thick swirls ran in circles.

The fog was thinning, and it showed that the creature was quite small, smaller than Milo realised. He was trying to remember Pokemon from Mia’s database off the top of his head…Granbull, no, not the control over ice and fog…Altaria? No, she would surely be hurt under this weather…Politoed? But - the effortless gliding…

Finally, she was revealed. Milo looked to see the skinny, iced Pokemon hovering in mid-air, appendages forming from her head as she directed the fog to create a thin layer around the floor. It was Frosslass; an ice and ghost type. Milo thought hard…he recalled seeing it’s profile on Mia’s database. Perhaps.

“Now, shadow ball!” Mia said. Frosslass formed the eccentric orb of compressed shadow in no time; it grew between her odd hands and expanded bigger and brighter . Milo thought that maybe due to the creatures size, the attack looked much larger.

Mia ordered Frosslass to release the shadow ball, but as she did, she focused hard, and encased it in a thick crust of solid ice. The shadow ball rose up only slightly, before Frosslass slammed it with her head and shattered it into a thousand shards of frozen umbra.

“Now, psychic!”

Floating above the ice-strewn wasteland she created, Frosslass sent the shards of shadow ball zooming around her in different patterns, like the many dizzying rings of a foreign planet. Milo folded his arms, scowling like his sister did not long ago; she had completely copied his shadow ball and ice punch combo he used with Medicham.

“Your sister’s good,” Nanette noticed.

“You thought that was good?” Milo spat. “Well…meh. Fucking cheat.”

Mia’s appeal had ended with Frosslass sending the shadow-ball-shards to destroy the thick bergs of ice littering the arena, reducing them to mere powder. On cue, the audience started applauding wildly as Mia watched on, fixated on her mother. Meredith did not look too overwhelmed.

“Mia, Mia, Mia!” Edgar cried. “What a fabulous appeal. A bit vague in parts - cloaking Frosslass detracted from it I thi-

“Excuse me?” Mia snarled.

Everyone held their breath as they watched Mia, a hand on her hip, interrupting the judge as he talked. Edgar cleared his throat, glowing with embarrassment.

“I said -”

“I know what you said,” Mia said. “That makes no sense!”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Edgar began. “It felt a bit vague.”

“Ridiculous,” Mia said. “It wasn’t vague! I revealed Frosslass. Plus, each attack was leading to the unveiling of the Pokemon. Who else can cloak, use ice and rock attacks, psychic? Obviously an experienced judge would see what I was trying to do.”

Edgar’s jaw dropped.

“Well,” he said, sniffing. “With that in mind, I’m lowering my score. 6.0.”

“You’re joking!” Mia gasped. “6!”

“I was going to give you higher,” he said. “But your little outburst lost you marks.”

“That’s so unfair!”

“5.9,” he replied, glaring at her. Milo couldn’t believe what he was seeing; Mia was behaving like a spoilt child, challenging the nicer of the three judges. Why had she been so tactless? Milo noticed Meredith looking angrier and angrier.

“It was okay,” Portman said, filling the tension caused by Edgar’s remarks. “I mean, the air of suspense isn’t as thick as you’d like it. ‘Experienced judges’, as you put them, see cloaked Pokemon a lot, let me assure you. So when you were having Frosslass work undercover, I wasn’t in suspense…but I think the blizzard and stealth rock combo was good. I don’t see that often, and that’s probably because you have trained your Pokemon well.”

“Thank you,” Mia said quietly.

“I give it a 7.5,” Portman replied. “Yea, okay, not great, work on it. That sort of thing.”

Portman had been far kinder than he had with many of the other coordinators, but his disinterest was obvious as he took a sip of his drink and started looking at his shoes. Mia turned to her mother - the glimmer of hope - and her hands clasped together.

“I agree with Portman,” Meredith said bluntly. “Pretty good, but middle of the road. 7.0.”

Milo gasped, causing Nanette, who was picking a spot, to look at the screen to see why. Meredith looked so disappointed in Mia, and her emotionless tone, coupled with her average mark showed an obvious attitude towards her daughter. Mia’s eyes began to fill as the MC announced her total score - 20.4 - and the audience applauded once more.

How on earth had Mia got such a low score? Milo recalled his entry into the Azalea contest, when he got something around 19 marks out of 30, and he felt so low, so gutted. It seemed all-too-good that he would even have got through to the battles. Mia must be feeling something similar, especially after Milo’s score.

“Err, why does your sister suck so much?” Nanette asked. “I thought she was good?”

“She is,” Milo said, screwing his face up. “I mean, that was good, but…”

“Bit boring, if you ask me,” Nanette said. Milo didn’t like her tone and decided to retort.

“Tell that to your Vileplume when it can’t learn any attacks,” he said. He got up and decided that, since Mia wasn’t back stage, she must have gone somewhere else. The MC announced a short break before the semi-finalists were announced, so Milo went to look for his sister.

It didn’t take him long. He heard familiar voices around the corner as he walked behind the scenes and soon came across his mother and sister locked in a blistering row.

“-so unprofessional, I can’t believe the way you sp-”

“He was patronising me Mum!”

“You do NOT speak to people like that! Edgar can give whatever score he wants Mia, and you have to take his opinion into account.”

“Well I won’t be taking yours into account!” Mia snapped. “SEVEN?”

“Despite what you may think, that was for your appeal, not your attitude,” Meredith said. “If I had to give you a score for your attitude, or your professionalism? Zero.”

“That is so unfair,” Mia said, her tired voice moaning and groaning. “Why are you doing this to me? Why do you hate me so much!?”

“Oh stop being so immature!” Meredith said.

“You like Milo more than me,” Mia sniffed. “I can tell! Oh son, tuck your shirt in! Oh Milo, you’re so brilliant…”

“He was brilliant,” Meredith said smugly. “I couldn’t believe how your brother performed out there. You know, when he told me he was doing contests, I was proud. But I didn’t actually think he was interested in them, so I thought Ruby might help him along, you know. And then he rings me up to say he doesn’t need her anymore, and look at him now!

“He is doing well, Mia, because he put his heart into it,” she said. “As for you? You got up there thinking you deserved to win, like it was owed to you. I am very disappointed in your behaviour, I really am. I think this contest is a good wake-up call for you to act your age and pull yourself together.”

“Bitch,” Mia muttered. Milo heard footsteps and planted himself against the wall around the corner; Meredith swept past him and down the corridor towards her dressing room. Milo was surprised to see that she looked incredibly distressed. He heard Mia sniffling round the corner, and knew better than to even try and speak to her. He quickly jogged back to Nanette.

*

The semi-finalists had been decided and the pairings made; Milo was facing a woman called Beryl, who had used the Chikorita in her appeal. Mia was going against the man who had used Sandslash. Milo learned, after sitting backstage, that the boy who came in fifth place, and was therefore eliminated, was only 0.4 points behind Mia. She had been very lucky.

For their first match, the trainers used one Pokemon each for a five minute battle. Then, in the finals, there was a doubles match with an extended fifteen minute match. Milo was on stage facing Beryl, who had a beret perched on the side of her head. She was quite cute, perhaps in her thirties.

“Beryl is choosing first,” the announced said. “Remember, you have five minutes to battle. Use style, grace, and lower your opponents appeal gauge. The winner will go on to the final.

“Begin!”

Milo saw Beryl pull out a Pokeball and swing her foot around, kicking it high into the air. Her long, elegant kick made Milo wonder if she had been a dancer, and he was distracted momentarily as the ball span into the air and burst open.

He had not expected this. The light formed into a familiar shape, with precise, diamond-shape wings and a long, craning neck. There was a sweeping tail and, as the light died down, Milo saw the red, blinking eyes of a Flygon staring at him.

Beryl giggled as Milo threw the Pokeball onto the arena. Croconaw emerged in a fantastic sparkle, clenching his fists and giving two firm snaps of his jaws. Milo had been unsure who to use, as both Croconaw and Medicham had the edge over the dragon one way or another. In the end, he went for typing.

“Okay Flygon! Take to the sky!” Beryl said.

The dragon kicked off and bolted into the sky; Milo noticed the dome had opened up, exposing the audience to the bright sun of the Cherrygrove afternoon.

“Croconaw, be careful,” Milo said quietly. “These things are fast.”

“Quick attack! Fire spin! Go!”

Milo looked up at the bright sun - its intensity caught his gaze - and saw Flygon speeding down through the air, encased in a flaming torpedo. Beryl had combined quick attack and fire spin to turn Flygon into a rocketing comet, and Milo had to act fast.

“Aqua jet, go!”

As Flygon sped down, Croconaw let the torpedo of water encase him and propelled himself across the arena. He unleashed a metal claw as he went, the sparkling energy forming in wide rings around the sweeping water attack. The audience looked on, impressed, as Croconaw landed on the other side of the arena.

“Now, water gun!”

Blasting the thick, foamy jet, Croconaw managed to strike Flygon and extinguish some of the fire. Beneath a veil of steam, Flygon had been struck in the side, costing Beryl points on her gauge. Milo smiled, ordering an ice beam.

“Fire!”

But it seemed Croconaw was not quick enough; as he opened his mouth, unleashing the pearly-white beam of collected ice, Flygon launched into the air once more. Milo knew, from raising one himself, that Flygon had very powerful legs but weak arms, and their large legs were useful in allowing them to push off the ground and propel themselves into the air.

“Water gun!”

“Fire blast!” Beryl said. From mid-air, Flygon fired a long jet of searing-hot flames. Croconaw countered with a water gun, and the two collided in mid-air. Croconaw clenched his fists and kept blasting the jet of water, but Flygon’s fire blast was causing the water to boil, and with an almighty grunt, Flygon forced the jet of boiling water back down on Croconaw, who gave a loud cry of agony.

“No!” Milo said. Croconaw staggered back, clutching his gums. Fire blast was far stronger than water gun and had thus overpowered his Pokemon, but the boiling water part? Milo was shocked. It seemed that for conquering the type advantage, Beryl’s strategy also cost Milo valuable points on his appeal gauge.

“Now Flygon! Iron tail!”

Croconaw was nursing his gums when Flygon span around; even though the creature was in the air, the tail was long and spiked, and with one swift spin, Croconaw was smacked in the face. He fell down to the ground as Flygon flapped along the arena towards him.

“Croconaw, get up!” Milo said. “Aqua Jet!”

Nodding, the alligator encased himself in water and burst into the air. Milo had an idea to scare Flygon away.

“Break out the aqua jet in mid-air, then go into aqua tail!”

Croconaw nodded, shooting up before leaping out the attack for a moment. The tip of his tail glowed brilliantly and he span it around; a dizzying trail of water span from his tip and whipped around, spraying at Flygon and causing the creature to flap back. Croconaw fell to the ground, his tail spinning, and charged up metallic energy in his claws.

With a crackle, Croconaw’s long, silvery claws extended, and he landed on the arena supported just by his hands, a vivid metallic sheen surrounding him. His tail, pointed upright, continued to spew a twist of water into the air.

“Excellent display!” Edgar said.

“He’s not hurting Flygon though,” Portman pointed out. Beryl’s appeal gauge did not fall much.

“Flygon use a gust to blow him over! Then strike with quick attack!” Beryl ordered. Milo saw what was happening before it did; with one flap of his wings, Flygon send an intense blast that knocked Croconaw over onto his side. The water from the aqua tail disappeared slowly.

As he got to his feet, Croconaw saw Flygon speeding low along the arena, close to the ground, arms tucked in. He was unsure if he had time or not, but Croconaw fired off an ice beam attack right at the foe. Being slim and streamlined, Flygon flapped up slightly and avoided the attack, but Croconaw growled and aimed higher; a stronger beam, more powerful than before, smashed into Flygon’s torso and caused the creature to fall out the air.

“Good work!” Milo said. “Now, aqua jet to strike Flygon. Hit him, break out the attack then use it again to get away.”

Flygon’s arms were not frozen, but the frost had almost pinned them to his body, so he could not use them to steady himself and get up. Croconaw sped along the arena and struck the creature in the side; Flygon gave a wail that was all-too-familiar to Milo.

“Stay where you are,” Milo said, assessing how immobile Flygon was. “Ice fang, to his left foot! Go!”

Croconaw grinned happily and sunk his teeth into Flygon’s foot; he sent searing cold ice crystals through the creature’s foot and did not let go, chuckling to himself as he concentrated harder and harder. Flygon’s tail sprang to life and wavered in the air like a charmed serpent.

“Hit it!” Beryl said.

“Keep sunk in, arm yourself with metal claw!” Milo said. As the tail swept down, Croconaw swung his right claw left to right and his left claw right to left. The glowing, sparkling claws - echoing Magneton’s appeal in their sparkle and sheen - clashed with Flygon’s tail and repelled it.

“Headbutt!” came the next order. Flygon tucked his head in and smashed it into Croconaw, sending him flying along the arena. Croconaw rolled along the floor as Flygon managed to stretch his arms and claws. His left leg, however, was encased in ice and very hurt. The creature surveyed Croconaw from the ground.

“Let’s go for a dragon breath,” Beryl said. Flygon opened his mouth and unleashed a blazing jet of energy; Croconaw leapt to the side but didn’t quite avoid it; it seared into his side and left a scorch mark. Croconaw rolled along the ground and got back up, firing a jet of water at Flygon.

“The appeal gauge’s are both still incredibly high,” noted Portman from behind his thick spectacles. “Neither are being very stylish here.”

Milo looked; he was losing, but only slightly. He had to do something good, something clever. Something brilliant. But what? He thought of Croconaw’s attacks but wasn’t sure what he could do to ensure victory. Unless…

“Croconaw, go for another aqua jet,” Milo said. Nodding, the creature rocketed through the air. “Okay, now start to use ice fang to encase the jet in ice. Become a torpedo!”

Flygon saw this and swung his tail around, whacking into Croconaw and causing him to fall to the ground out of his aqua jet. Flygon got to his feet, looking to be in extreme pain, but Croconaw had rocketed into another aqua jet attack.

Swinging his tail around a second time, Flygon was not surprised when Croconaw directed himself within the aqua jet and veered left. However, Flygon blasted a dragon breath into Croconaw, striking him and throwing him to the ground.

Milo was losing…it was almost over…

“Get up! Aqua jet! Go into ice fang, now!” Milo shouted. Croconaw staggered up his feet and burst into the aqua jet a third time. As ice began to form around the exterior, Croconaw sped at Flygon, but he was ready once again.

His tail swung around and smashed into the icy torpedo; once the ice broke and the water ruptured across the arena, however, a long, painful screech filled the air. Flygon clutched his ears and contorted his face; Croconaw had isolated a screech attack within the icy torpedo, and shattering it had filled the room with the sharp cries.

“Croconaw!” Milo cried, as his alligator leapt out the aqua jet. He was in mid-air, almost over Flygon… “Ice beam! Straight down!”

The powerful jet swept down at a sharp angle and smashed into Flygon, driving him further into the ground. Croconaw focused all his energy into the attack as the timer rang out Milo looked up at the screen; both appeal gauges were almost identical, so close. But which one had won?

“Folks, it looks like the gauges are identical!” said the MC. “Well, this doesn’t happen very often!”

Milo glanced across at Beryl. She looked quietly confident. Flygon lay on his side, gasping, while Croconaw was back at Milo’s side, catching his breath. What happened when an appeal gauge was not clearly defined as higher or lower? Milo didn’t have to wait long; the MC explained that the judges had to vote on who they felt was the stronger contestant.

“Edgar, if you will please state the name of the coordinator who you wish to go through to the final round?” asked the MC.

Edgar cleared his throat.

“Milo.”

Milo smiled; one vote. He knew he could count on Edgar.

“Portman?”

Portman thought for a moment.

“Both strong contenders. But Flygon relied on the sheer force of the slightest wiggle. Croconaw fought above and beyond with style. I choose Milo.”

Milo’s face broke into a wide smile; two out of three votes - that meant he was going through to the finals regardless of his mother’s vote. He saw her briefly; she looked torn. Was she worried about having to vote for her son, or did she regret her argument with Mia? Perhaps it was something different entirely.

“Milo has the majority vote,” the MC said. “I am sorry, Beryl. You are eliminated.”

Nodding, Beryl held herself together and recalled Flygon back into his Pokeball. Milo was through to the finals of the contest - and was an inch closer to getting his fourth contest ribbon. The thought flashed before him briefly; what would Jake say when Milo returned to Violet City with a new ribbon? How would it make Luna feel?

Meanwhile, Mia was watching the screen backstage as Nanette stared at her with apparent awe.

“Are you still pissed off at what your Mom said?” Nanette muttered.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mia replied.

“I heard you when I went to the toilet. Screaming about Milo. It’s not healthy to compete with siblings,” she said.

“Is that so?”

“Well I don’t have any,” Nanette said. “But my Mom bought herself a Poliwag to cheer her up when my Daddy left her. He said she turned into a big fat monster. She was quite big, and quite fat, but she wasn’t a monster. Anyway Mom loved Poliwag so much she started ignoring me. ‘Oh Nanette’, she used to say. ‘Leave Mommy with her Poliwoggle. Go and play, be a little girl. Mommy wants her Poliwoggle.”

“Are you comparing my 22 year old brother to a Poliwag?” Mia asked.

“Yes,” came her firm reply. “The situation’s the same. Someone takes the attention away - something takes the focus.”

“So what did you do,” Mia asked lazily, still watching the screen.

“I waited until it was fast asleep,” Nanette began, swelling with dark pride. “I picked it up and placed it in the ground. Poliwag need moisture, all the time. Usually sleep in a shallow bath. I filled the ground with dirt and soil. Bye Poliwoggle.”

Mia’s eyes widened as she heard the end of the story. Nanette’s eyes lit up with a dark spark; she looked so happy just thinking about the memory of burying her mother’s favourite Pokemon alive. It filled a hunger the girl couldn’t tame with sugary snacks.

“…Are you serious?” Mia asked.

“Deadly,” came her reply.

“Did you see that!” came Milo’s voice. Mia looked to see her brother striding into the room to mild applause from those who chose to watch the rest of the contest. “Through to the finals! Yes!”

“Good for you,” Mia said, getting out her chair. “Well, I have my match. If you will excuse me.”

“Is she okay?” Milo said, as Mia swiftly left to go on stage.

“Oh, fine,” Nanette mused, her finger firmly lodged up her nose. “Girl stuff.”

“Right,” Milo said.

He sat down next to Nanette and watched the match between Mia and her foe. Mia seemed quite laid back about the match, sending out her Ninetales. This was Mia’s first Pokemon, raised as a Vulpix until the day before Milo left to coordinate. It had a beautiful, glossy coat, but there was a fierceness to it, too. Milo had always assumed it was used for appealing. Evidently not.

Ninetales gave off a high-pitched bark as the foe was released - a Ludicolo. These were quite large, stocky Pokemon, with a duck-like bill and big eyes. Milo had never actually seen one of them battle before; they were rare in Johto.

The battle was surprisingly quick; Ninetales darted along the arena in elegant strides as Ludicolo flapped about. Though she was weak to Ludicolo’s water attacks, Ninetales used hot jets of fire to interrupt, and therefore ruin Ludicolo’s jaunty dances.

Mia made quick work of the pineapple-shaped Pokemon, and as Milo watched backstage, he realised something that had been a burden since he saw Mia at the Pokemoncenter the previous night. His sister was standing in the way of his fourth ribbon.

*

This was it. Milo had two Pokeballs, one in each hand; Medicham and Croconaw, ready to take on Mia. Mia looked disinterested on the other side of the arena, holding two Pokeballs, too. Milo felt that familiar deafening silence come over him as the MC explained the rules. They were the same as before, but the match was longer.

Before he knew it, Mia threw her first Pokeball onto the arena, revealing the fiercely beautiful Ninetales. Milo threw Medicham’s Pokeball forward and she emerged onto the arena, one leg raised, both hands clasped above her head.

Next, Milo sent Croconaw forward, and he readied himself on all fours. He seemed excited to battle Ninetales; perhaps due to the type advantage, perhaps due to the seriousness of the situation. Mia got her second Pokeball and threw it onto the arena, where a long, thin shape took form.

Milo saw long, slim arms form from a stick-thin body, with slightly wider legs. The creature was his size; the light died down revealing a white-bodied creature with a red head crest. It was a Gallade; the psychic/fighting evolution of Kirlia, and branch-off of Gardevoir.

It looked like an impressive Pokemon, flicking both arms out as long, slender blade-like extensions protruded out. Mia put one hand on her hip and observed Milo. Medicham, meanwhile, eyed the new foe with intrigue. Psychic and fighting, just like her.

“BEGIN!”

“Ninetales go for a quick attack!” Mia shouted.

In a flash, Ninetales sped along the arena towards Milo’s two Pokemon. He ordered Croconaw to leap onto the arena and use an aqua tail; he jumped onto his front claws and, wiggling his tail in the air, spewed the twisting vortex of water across the arena. Ninetales was struck and staggered back, letting off a hiss.

“Gallade! Intervene!” Mia shouted. As Medicham stood behind Croconaw, spinning and keeping Ninetales at bay, the Gallade sprinted across the arena, blades drawn. Milo was impressed with its speed. Gallade’s blades were glowing white; he span on the spot and unleashed one, two, three blades of white-hot energy. The first slammed into Croconaw’s stomach and lifted him off the ground briefly. The next two slammed into him and hurled him across the arena.

“Croconaw!” Milo shouted. The attack seemed to be infused with some form of telekinesis, one Medicham didn’t possess. “Medicham, go and face Gallade. Teleport and fire punch.”

She nodded and flicked her hands out; both burst into flames that coiled up her wrist. Medicham ran along the arena, fists blazing, and saw the Gallade stand at the ready. She leapt high into the air, but with a pop! she disappeared.

In a flash, Medicham re-appeared behind Gallade and swung her fists into the creature’s body. Gallade staggered forward but swung his left arm behind him; his elbow connected with Medicham’s face, allowing him to spin around and unleash a thick slice of energy from his other blade.

Even though it was a psychic attack it seemed to cause Medicham quite some grief; she was bowled over by the strong attack. Ninetales charged at Croconaw, but he swept out of the way with an aqua jet, before firing a jet of water down at the fox.

Gallade leapt into the air and span around feverishly like a rabid spinning top. More white-hot blades of energy swept down through the air, raining down on Milo’s Pokemon. Medicham leapt in front of Croconaw and held her hands out, projecting telekinesis in a dome-like blast similar to a force field. It dissipated Gallade’s attacks.

“Ninetales! Flamethrower at Medicham!” called Mia. Medicham saw the jet of flame shooting from the fox’s mouth and teleported to the other side of the arena. However, it seemed Gallade anticipated this, for once she re-appeared, the psychic soldier shook wildly and let off a volley of sparks, which coursed right through Medicham’s body.

“Ice punch!” Milo shouted. Maybe mobility was the way to overcome this beast. Medicham’s fist swung up to strike Gallade, but with lightning-fast reflexes an appendage swung up and blocked the punch. Gallade then disarmed Medicham by sweeping her blade outwards and exposing Medicham; another swift slice of energy connected with Medicham and threw her across the arena.

Focusing on one Pokemon wasn’t working. Milo furrowed his brow, confused as he had never encountered this creature before. He saw the appeal gauge - he was losing. Mia was blocking his attacks and deflecting them with style - it didn’t matter that she wasn’t dealing much damage herself.

“Switch,” Milo said to the two. “Medicham, use psycho cut on Ninetales. Croconaw, fire an ice beam at Gallade.”

Ninetales was racing along the arena, her thick thatch of tails trailing behind. Medicham held two fingers to her temple as they glowed softly. Flinging them out, she sent a sharp blade of energy at Ninetales. The creature leapt over the first, landing deftly (and getting cheers from the crowd) but the second struck her in the side and she fell over.

Meanwhile, Croconaw fired off the beam of ice towards Gallade. Milo was impressed to see how it had improved recently; the thick beam looked stronger, which meant it was also a lot colder. Milo’s plan was to use ice against Gallade; if it blocked the attack, it would surely seize up with the cold, and he could strike.

Gallade swung a blade up to connect with (and block) the ice beam, but Milo’s plan worked - ice began forming over the creature’s blade and it got heavy, crystallised. As Gallade felt his blade seize up, he stooped forward slightly. Croconaw swept along in an aqua jet and struck him right in the torso.

The alligator leapt out the attack and landed on the arena, spinning his silvery claws and basking in the glow. Mia’s appeal gauge began to fall, and it didn’t help that Ninetales’ attempts to save her team mate were stopped by Medicham. As the fox raced to bite Croconaw, Medicham intervened with a high-jump kick that struck the fox and sent her flying into the air.

“Yes!” Milo said. Medicham looked at her cuts and bruises, examining herself as Croconaw fired a water gun at Ninetales. Gallade’s eyes were wide, struggling to understand how to overcome the situation.

“Okay, Medicham, use a fire punch,” Milo began. “But then use a psychic. Wrap the flames around you like we did in Goldenrod; cauterise your wounds.”

Medicham nodded, summoning the flames in her palms and then manipulating them with her PSI powers. They formed into a snaking tendril that span around the monkey like a flaming tyre, before growing into a cocoon shape. While the heat caused Medicham’s cuts to heal up, she fired a swift attack into the sky from within her fiery cocoon; flaming stars rocketed into the sky and exploded, entertaining the crowd.

As Medicham did this, Gallade watched keenly, his eyes focused on the flames. Croconaw was using metal claw and performing moves for the audience, entertaining them.

“Mimic!” Mia yelled.

“No!” Milo shouted, as Gallade’s free blade began to burst into flame.

He span on the spot, again and again, the red-hot blade swathed in fire as he swirled around and melted the ice on his free arm. Mia cackled in triumph as Gallade mimicked the fire punch, freeing himself from the ice.

“Croconaw! Ice-aqua jet!” Milo shouted. Bursting into a watery torpedo, Croconaw arched up into the air before shooting down towards Gallade. Clenching his icy fangs, Croconaw summoned a frosty sheen to begin spreading through the attack, hardening it.

Mia studied the scene for a moment, before nodding to Gallade. He held his appendages up in defence, taking the attack from Croconaw with a groan. Croconaw’s icy torpedo smashed into Gallade and he staggered back, giving Croconaw chance to leap out the attack.

“X-Scissor!” Mia said. Gallade nodd1ed and began sprinting along the arena. Milo had assumed Croconaw was the target, but he was wrong. Gallade’s blades were crossed over his chest and they glowed brilliantly.

Fully aware the attack would cause Medicham a lot of damage, Milo ordered Croconaw to get in the way. It seemed evading attacks was problematic in doubles matches; another foe would always lie in wait. Medicham watched as Croconaw attacked.

“Okay, fire an ice beam!” he said, as Croconaw then blasted off the fantastic beam of ice. Gallade, who had reached quite a speed, leapt high into the air and flipped over with grace. Croconaw then fired a jet of water, missing once more.

“Hit it!” Milo said. Croconaw’s claws were clenched in fists, and they sparkled with a metallic sheen. But Milo saw a similar glow across the tip of the creature’s tail. Supporting himself on his front paws, Croconaw waited until Gallade got close before leaping forward and swinging his tail around.

The iron tail connected with Gallade’s jaw; he roared in agony and stumbled back, clumsily unleashing the X-Scissor. As a result, it was easy to avoid, and Mia lost valuable points on her appeal gauge. Milo saw Croconaw fire off an aqua tail at Ninetales, but coated his tail in an iron sheen, sending the water at Ninetales with intricate silver sparkles.

“Good work!” Milo said, noticing Mia’s appeal gauge drop. “Medicham! Use the aqua tail to get close to Ninetales and then use thunder punch!”

As Ninetales was kept at bay with the twisting jet of water, Medicham raced along the arena, leaping left and right, using the water as cover. Her fists were crackling with sparks as she neared her opponent. Gallade saw this, however, and raced along the arena to hold her off.

Holding his blades above his head, Gallade caused Croconaw to levitate off the ground. As he was levitated, Gallade swung his blades and sent two thick strips of energy slamming into Croconaw’s belly. He was thrown out the air and slammed into the ground.

“Ninetales, Will-O-Wisp!” Mia yelled.

Medicham looked up to see a whooshing swarm of flames sweeping towards her and she held a hand out in order to try and prevent them from reaching her. Using her telekinesis, she held the flames away, and they fluttered about her like angry wasps.

Croconaw saw this and fired a jet of water to extinguish any of the rogue flames. Medicham nodded to him and they both raced across the arena at their foes. Milo bit his lip as the clock ticked down; he had tried different combinations of his Pokemon against Mia’s, but nothing was working. Medicham and Croconaw seemed to be communicating to try and use their own instincts in their strategy.

Gallade wielded his arms and they glowed brightly. With a roar, he unleashed two long, thick blades of energy across the arena. Medicham held her hands out and flung Croconaw into the air so that he avoided the attack. Moments later, Medicham was struck by the attack and fell to the ground as Croconaw soared high into the air.

He aimed down and fired off a water gun that smashed into Ninetales and blasted her across the arena - it seemed to deal more damage as it was fired from a distance. Staggering back, dizzied by the cold burst, Ninetales gave a cry; she saw Croconaw sailing down through the air, firing an ice beam down at Gallade.

“Fire punch! Spin!” Mia ordered. Gardevoir’s appendages burst into flames and as he span, a flaming circle surrounded him. Milo had anticipated this, however, and ordered Medicham to manipulate the fire with a psychic attack.

She pulled it towards her, grasping her fingers and flicking her wrist; the flames snaked across the arena, curling up into the air and exploding into a big shower of bright embers. The audience applauded as Medicham practiced yoga positions while she was illuminated by the stolen fire.

A sweeping feeling of elation filled Milo as Mia’s appeal gauge lowered. He was in with a chance. Gallade had been a shock, but he was overcoming the creature’s powers. Milo saw Croconaw sneak a metal claw attack upon the creature’s back and smiled.

“Medicham! Scramble Ninetales’ head with a psychic,” he commanded. “Then teleport and jump kick!”

Medicham nodded, staring into Ninetales’ amber eyes and sending strong mental images at her. The fox screwed her face up, feeling the effects similar to a strong migraine. Her left and right paws crossed as she tried to walk forward, and she gave a long groan.

Medicham raced along the arena at the dizzied Pokemon, and Croconaw began to keep Gallade at bay. Medicham then leapt into the air and disappeared with a quick pop, before re-emerging and swinging her foot into Ninetales. She gave a long cry as she collapsed to the ground.

Gallade slashed a psycho cut through the air, but Medicham took it without so much as a grunt of dissatisfaction. As Croconaw fired off a water gun, Medicham pressed a finger to her temple and sent it speeding through the air at an accelerated rate, giving it more power.

The hyper-water gun ploughed into Ninetales, driving her into the wall of the contest hall. Mia let out a cry as her Pokemon was deemed unfit for battle. The crowd’s cheers erupted as the match intensified; Milo saw Croconaw gasping for air as Gallade prepared to go it alone.

“Ninetales is unable to battle,” said the announcer gravely. From the sidelines, Meredith locked her fingers together and leaned in closer to the battle.

“Medicham! Shadow ball! Croconaw, ice beam!” Milo ordered. Medicham started charging up the shadowy orb in her hands as Croconaw fired off an intense ice beam that soared through the air. Gallade leapt into the air and avoided the attack, before teleporting and re-appearing behind Medicham.

Both blades crackled with sinister energy, and in one quick thrash of his blade-like appendages, Gallade unleashed a devastating night slash into Medicham’s back. She fell onto the ground, her incomplete shadow ball bursting into smoky tendrils of darkness.

Medicham got to her feet to see Gallade firing a psycho cut at Croconaw. He avoided it by leaping across the arena, and summoned a spinning aqua tail to surround himself. As he danced elegantly, water spiralled around him, and he made sure to execute a metal claw to give a shimmering glow to the attack.

Good, good, make it look pretty, Milo thought. “Medicham! Fire punch at Gallade! Croconaw leap into an aqua jet!”

Medicham’s palms burst into flames and she ran along the arena. Gallade saw this and ran towards her in a show of guts. Milo watched as Mia showed a look of determination on her face; Gallade’s blades crackled with another night slash attack.

“Watch out!” Milo said, just as Medicham neared. “Leap up!”

Medicham nodded and, pressing her feet into the ground, leapt as high into the air as she could. Gallade saw this and, aiming at his target, unleashed the night slash as two long, sweeping blades of dark energy. They smashed into Medicham’s body and threw her from the air; she fell to the ground with a dull thud as the flames on her wrists faded away.

Gallade had feigned the attack; he had just pretended to attack Medicham so she got out the way, and Mia must have known that Medicham would go up instead of left or right. If she had gone left, Gallade would have slashed right, and vice versa. He had walked into a trap.

Croconaw soared through the air, encased in the watery torpedo. He swept through the air, aiming for Gallade, who had been distracted unleashing the night slash attack. The psychic Pokemon looked up and Croconaw, staring right at him through the watery barrier.

Just then, Croconaw stopped in mid-air; the water he propelled soon fell to the ground and splashed along the arena, but Gallade held Croconaw aloft with her psychic powers. He flailed about in the air, trying to aim a jet of water at the psychic soldier, but Gallade kept Croconaw’s jaws shut with psychic.

“Medicham, hit Gallade with a shadow ball!” Milo said. Medicham charged the orb of energy, but Gallade threw his arms up and sent Croconaw high into the rafters of the building. As the alligator soared, Gallade leapt into the air, teleported mid-leap and appeared next to Croconaw, dealing an impressive, sparkling slash into his stomach.

Struck, Croconaw plummeted to the ground, smashing into the arena floor with a sickening crunch. Milo saw Medicham hastily hurl the shadow ball in Gallade’s direction so she could run over and see if her ally was ok. Gallade teleported away from the shadow ball effortlessly.

“Are you okay?” Milo asked Croconaw. He got to his feet, clutching his head wearily, but no sooner had he got up than his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed. Milo got down on one knee and held his Pokemon; he looked very weak.

“Croconaw is unable to battle!” the announcer cried. Milo looked at the appeal gauge; with Croconaw down, Milo and Mia’s gauges were very, very close. Mia had the edge, just. As Milo recalled Croconaw into his glittery Pokeball, he got to his feet. Medicham was at his side.

“I know you’re really tired,” Milo said to her. “But all we need is to wear Gallade down a little more.”

Medicham nodded, panting and looking at the foe. Gallade pressed his blade appendages together and charged them with cracking dark energy. This was a night slash again, and it would be deadly if it connected with Medicham. Luckily, as Gallade raced through the air, Medicham disappeared with a quick pop.

Emerging inches from Gallade, Medicham saw Gallade stumble in confusion and swung a punch into his back. The connecting punch threw Gallade off balance and he hit the ground hard. However, as he hit the ground, Gallade simply shattered. Milo gasped as the white creature blasted into millions of pieces before them.

He had seen this technique used before, in the Johto league. It was substitute. Which meant the real Gallade was…

Medicham looked up to see Gallade rocket down from mid-air, one blade glowing with crackling dark energy. The other was swathed in flames, the same flames mimicked from Medicham’s fire punch. As she looked up, the flames sliced across her chest and Gallade dealt a quick, powerful slash with his other appendage. Medicham flew back, rolling along the ground limply.

Milo’s mouth hung open as he began to realise the truth, but the buzzer rang out and the announcer spoke up. Milo ran over to Medicham, who lay still, while Gallade leapt to Mia’s side. Milo’s head was spinning, and the words spoken by the announcer were muffled. All he focused on was his injured Pokemon.

Her eyes were drooping shut, and her thin frame was scorched with battle marks. Milo got her Pokeball out from his pocket and pulled her inside with it’s strong, red beam. She would be safe here. Milo looked up to see Mia hugging the announcer as he told the audience Mia was now eligible for entry into the Grand Festival.

“I just want to thank my mom, who has been amazing,” Mia said. “And all my incredible Pokemon, obviously. I hope you all cheer me on at the Grand Festival!”

Milo swallowed. It began to dawn on him just what had happened - he had lost to Mia, the one person he had set out to beat at coordinating. This was after he had earned three ribbons and trained an impressive team up; he was hardly new and inexperienced at this.

As the judges came onto the stage to congratulate Mia, Milo walked off the stage. He had used Medicham, his strongest Pokemon and his closest friend, yet she had not been able to help him against Mia. Milo thought about Gallade, the incredible Pokemon Mia had used. When had she captured it? It can’t have been recent - it was far too strong, far too fluid in battle.

Milo hadn’t noticed it, but his legs carried him past Nanette Babcock, who had been waiting backstage. Milo walked out of the contest hall, his hands in his pocket, his eyes staring at the ground. The afternoon was coming to a close, and the sun was dipping below the sky. The sunset smeared the sky a brilliant, iced raspberry colour, but Milo didn’t notice.

Magneton’s appeal had been higher than Mia’s. He had done really well! How had he lost to her? Milo couldn’t answer; his insides crackled with a hot, spiky anger. It was like smouldering splinters burned inside his stomach.

Milo stopped; he was on Cherygrove‘s beach. Standing on one foot he removed his left trainer, then his right. He tossed them into the sandy shore and dipped his feet in the water, before finally looking up at the sky.

Tomorrow he would drive back to Violet City and see Jake, and train for the Violet City Contest. He had to do it soon, while he was keen to prove himself again. He needed to catch up to Mia, she had five ribbons now! She could go to Silver City tomorrow and register for the Grand Festival if she wanted to. And she would be wise to do so, because there were a limited number of spaces.

Imagine if Milo got his five ribbons, but registration for the Grand Festival was full?

Milo sat like this for several hours, saying nothing, thinking about everything. In fact, he only got up when his feet felt cold in the usually warm waters. He looked around, and darkness had set in. Grabbing his trainers in his hands, Milo wandered back to his hotel, wiping his eyes on his sleeve as he went.



Next time
Milo is feeling low after his loss to Mia, and sets to work on his next contest. When he tries to drive back to Violet City, his car is vandalised, and he immdiately suspects Nanette is behind it. Meanwhile, Jake pours his heart out to Gina, and tells her about the membership card, but can she keep it to herself?



-Ok so this was a pretty big showdown between Milo and Mia. When I wrote this, I found it hard to get across how the two were both very strong, but in different ways.

-Weirdly, Milo seemed better at appealing, and Mia better at battling.

-In scenes I cut from the chapter, we saw Mia obtaining a Kirlia, and seeking to train it. She trained under Sabrina, who she went to Boarding School with. Sabrina convinced her to evolve it to Gallade.

-The idea was, after seeing Milo win the Goldenrod contest, Mia realised she'd have to fight her brother one day, and went through a really tough training regime in Kanto.

-I don't think Milo's loss was too surprising, since I've always seen Gallade as an impressive Pokemon.

-As for Nanette, her appeal was inspired by the anime. A girl in the anime used an appeal involving two Eevees which she threw elemental stones at. I considered this, and thought about how forced stone-evolutions are.

-In the end, I concluded it was a pretty dumb thing to do, and the Pokemon would have to be raised carefully so that the sudden evolution wasn't too painful or stressful.

-So Nanette, in trying to be clever, has kind of stunted her Vileplume's growth.

-The judges were also sort of inspired by shows like American Idol and X Factor. Particularly Portman, who I based off some journalists I know. He is bloated on his own sense of self-worth, and writes a contest-based column. I'd quite like him to return, maybe at the Grand Festival.

-In this chapter I also wanted to show a different side to Meredith. She's been seen as dizzy and a bit stupid, but in her 'work' environment, I wanted to show how she's actually screwed on, professional and thoughtful.

-It was probably hard for her to slate Mia's appeal, but as she made it clear backstage, she is not here to help Mia. And Milo did fine without her help.

-Just a note: I mentioned last chap how I had a complex, deep storyline for Nanette, but I'm kind of shelving it since it isn't working out. She is in the next chapter, after which I'll maybe spill some details.

-It's all canon stuff, but stuff I can't fit into the story without it being jarring or weird. It was also maybe a little bit dark.

-So after this, I'm going to post a little mini chapter which is the Jake/Gina/Falkner scenes that were supposed to go in here.

-Then there will be the final part of The Golden Arc, which focuses on the Gym Leader Showcase that was mentioned in the last part when Steven Stone spoke to Michael.

-To help promote the league, an exhibition match is being held between Whitney and Cianwood's new leader, Eusine. Steven mentioned to Michael that he had a team of men who were going to storm the event and steal some Pokemon, but if Michael acted, Meredith, Mia and Milo would be killed.

-So we see that going down.

-After the Golden Arc is tied up, a new arc will kick off, which will focus on quite a popular character we haven't seen for a while.

-I also have quite a heartbreaking scene planned...

[Chris 2.1]

I think it's going to be pretty epic.

[Chris 2.1]

Sike: Epic reply! Loved these in TPML; it's great to see what stands out to you.

I'm glad you liked the battle between Milo and Mia - maybe people have a different view of Mia after she controlled her Pokemon so effortlessly?

As for Nanette, the layers are peeling away, but this isn't like the Oscar plot. Nanette is a complex character, but I don't think she's evil. She does have an agenda, but then, who doesn't? I suppose hers might just be a bit...oh, extreme.

Gina's flat was inspired by a house I used to live in, situated above a bakery. Quite an amazing smell every morning, let me tell you

Think the final of the Golden Arc will be rather big and epic then. I have to remind you that it isn't the last we see of the characters, but the current plot is tied up and put to one side so we can carry on with newer, emerging stories.

[Chris 2.1]

Previously...
-Jasmine was working for Michael Mitchelson to help recover Pokemon that had been stolen
-To stop Adam Anderson stealing Jake's Pichu, Jasmine killed him, using her Magneton to rip his fillings out through his skull
-Michael later recruited Morty to help him
-Jasmine and Morty worked on recovering Pokemon, until Morty saw Jasmine shooting Oscar in a mission.
-Jasmine worked alone and with Lorelei, Michael's deranged special agent, on various missions
-Soon, Steven Stone, a financier of the thefts, threatened to kill Michael's family if he continued to interfere. Michael agreed not to try and prevent the thefts at the upcoming Exhibition Match.
-Jasmine, also in danger, was sent to her parents farm, where she found Morty had been working.
-Together, they killed Largo LeGrand, who attacked them.

The Golden Arc
Seven
Golden Dream

Goldenrod was always a busy city; the capital of Johto and home to the region’s vast media network, transport hub and, as the trendiest city around, it was the most exciting place to be. This was especially true today, as the Goldenrod Gym was holding an Exhibition Match where it invited Eusine, the new leader of Cianwood Gym, to compete against Whitney for a public spectacle.

The surge of interest in gym battles and the Pokemon league itself was incredible. Trainers who had won their Speed Badge from Goldenrod found themselves lingering to see the high-profile match, maybe so they could witness the skills of Eusine, who they may battle later. Celebrities were also in attendance.

Far away, at MooMoo Farm, Morty and Jasmine woke after a passionate night together. Jasmine had, naturally, told Morty everything about the match - how Steven Stone was planning to raid the event and steal Pokemon, but also that he had men positioned to kill Michael’s family if he tried to intervene.

“It’s just horrible,” Jasmine said, putting her earrings in. “Michael had to stop his fight against the thefts. Steven’s PorygonZ can infiltrate computers, telephones, anything mechanical. It can get anywhere.”

“Look,” Morty said, buttoning a shirt. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, and I want to do something.”

“But you can’t!” Jasmine said. “Michael…”

“You said Steven will act if the match is disrupted or the thefts are prevented,” Morty told her. “But I can do more than that, I know it. I think I can convince Whitney not to turn up to the exhibition, but I’ll have to act fast.”

“How do you think that will work?” Jasmine said, sounding sceptical.

“I know her, we go way back,” Morty said. “I’ll visit Michael and speak to him, maybe we can form a plan. We need to act fast, before she goes to the gym for the match.”

“You’ll be ratted out, Steven Stone isn’t stupid,” Jasmine said. “Please, Morty, we have to let this wash over.”

“We can’t!” Morty said. “The Exhibition Match is broadcast across Johto. Steven’s plan to raid the match will be broadcast to the whole region, like a viral video. Everyone will see the fear and panic and it will make people more scared than they have ever been. We can’t let that happen!”

“I know it’s bad,” Jasmine began, but she stopped when she saw Morty leave the room. “Hey! Where are you going?”

“I’m going to Goldenrod,” Morty said stubbornly. “I chickened out of this thing when I saw you shoot Oscar, but I know what I have to do. I can’t sit on the sidelines and see all this happen around me, Jasmine. I’m going to see Michael.”

“Don’t!” Jasmine cried. “Put a foot wrong, and lives could be lost!”

“I won’t put a foot wrong,” Morty told her. “You have to trust me.”

“I…it’s not that I don’t,” Jasmine said. She was about to tell Morty to be careful when he disappeared with a pop. Getting up, she looked into the hallway, but Morty was nowhere to be found.

*

Morty felt, when teleporting, that senses from his previous location melded with those of his new ones. Sometimes smells, feelings or temperatures would linger as he shifted. In this instance, however, as the scent of Jasmine’s sweet perfume faded, Morty felt a sharp, intense pain fill every fibre of his body. His head hit something and he cried out in pain as darkness filled every space around him. What was going on?

A moment later, a foot jabbed under his body and pushed him over. Morty opened his eyes and looked around; he was staring at the high ceiling of a familiar office, and Michael Mitchelson stared down at him. Morty got to his feet, his head spinning.

“Wh-what happened?” he asked.

“You tried teleporting into my office,” Michael explained, looking crossly at Morty. “Recently I installed a new security system to stop people doing such a thing.”

“Well it fucking hurt,” Morty said.

“Good,” Michael replied crisply. “It’s obviously working. What are you doing here?”

“I came because I heard about the Exhibition Match,” Morty said. “We need to do something to stop it going ahead!”

“We can’t do anything, you’re far too late,” Michael sighed. “I assume Jasmine told you everything? Then you’ll know my wife and children are being targeted by Steven Stone. If they don’t succeed in their plan to raid the match, my family could be killed.”

“I know, but -”

“You don’t know,” Michael interrupted. “Any faults, any slips, and Steven will blame me, even if I sit in my office all afternoon. Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to think that by the end of the day I could be alone in the world? My family could all be dead, murdered, and I’m powerless to stop it.”

Morty listened to Michael, who looked close to tears. He felt numb, but he wasn’t sure if it was raw emotion of the electric shock that had surged into his body. He had never seen Mr Mitchelson look so lost.

“I understand,” Morty began. “But…we can make it so they don’t blame you.”

“You can’t.”

“I can!”

“Why are you being so persistent,” Michael asked. “Really. Why?”

“I want to help,” Morty said.

“You can help by staying still and doing what you’re told,” Michael told him, his voice getting louder. Morty’s insistence was incredibly frustrating.

“Let me just try and talk to Whitney,” Morty said. “I’ll get her to -

“WILL YOU SIT DOWN!” Michael screamed. “Listen to me! You cannot change what has been set in place, Mortimer! You are too late, it is the morning of the exhibition! If you were a reliable man, perhaps we could have avoided this. But you disappeared when things got serious, and things have come to a head now. We must sit and let things play out.”

“I won’t,” Morty said, turning his nose up. Gengar materialised at his side and he gripped the creatures gnarled claw. “Thank me later.”

Morty disappeared with another pop, causing Michael to stand up and let out an almighty roar. How could the young man be so inconsiderate, so risky and dangerous? He knew lives were at risk, yet he continued to endanger them. Michael did not want to be seen out in Goldenrod; he knew Steven was monitoring his surveillance to make sure he didn’t intervene. Instead, he called for Lorelei.

“You wanted to see me?” Lorelei said, striding into the office.

“Morty has gone to Whitney’s apartment,” Michael said. “He is trying to persuade her not to turn up to the Exhibition Match…please, go after him and make sure he is kept quiet.”

“Not a problem,” she said, tying her red hair back.

“And Lorelei?” Michael said, as she got to the door. “Use force if you need it.”

Lorelei nodded and disappeared from Michael’s office. She got her phone out from her pocket and examined it; Michael had emailed her with the coordinates of Whitney Blanc’s apartment so she could make her way there. Whitney seemed to live in a luxurious housing complex in the nice end of Goldenrod.

Opening her locker, Lorelei withdrew her Pokeballs and stowed some in her pockets. One, however, which was designed like a shimmering blue gemstone, slid onto her finger like a chunky ring. This was a special ‘donut’ Pokeball design Lorelei had received as a gift, with the Pokeball clasp made of pearl.

This was a special Pokemon; one Lorelei knew she would need to stop Morty in his tracks. Next, Lorelei flicked her hair back, adjusted her spectacles, and headed out onto the streets.

*

Morty re-appeared in the streets of Goldenrod city with Gengar at his side. He wasn’t quite sure where Whitney lived, although he had a vague idea, having only really met Whitney at press events or conferences. The two had been in contact for a number of years, stemming from when they were both gym leaders.

Looking at his watch, Morty realised he didn’t have long to speak with Whitney. Soon, she would be making her way to the Gym to do press, interviews and to plan the match. Thinking he knew where he was going, Morty dashed along the street towards the apartment block.

Her apartment was a sleek, square building, comprised of glass walls and thick wooden beams. Whitney seemed to have very modern tastes when it came to lifestyle. Morty pressed his hand to his temple to help him concentrate. A year ago, he was chatting to Whitney at a glamorous event. Whitney mentioned her apartment number, because it was the same number as…as…

The age she became a gym leader.

But what age was that? As Gengar floated in the air, examining the area, Morty wished he had a Pokemon who could read surface memories. It was a rare gift, developed only by the finest, most experienced psychics. In fact, hadn’t Morty read something just last week about clairsentience? In 2006 there had only been…

“Nineteen!” he cried. “Nineteen reported cases.”

He paused.

“She was nineteen when she became a gym leader!”

Yes, that was right. But why had he been thinking about that, why was that important? Morty looked up at the apartment number 19 and smiled.

“Yes! That’s where she lives!”

Morty ran up the stairs towards Whitney’s apartment. He felt so happy he had figured it out for himself, and took a left turn as he passed apartment 15. Gengar was flying alongside Morty like a grim fairy, grinning from pointed ear to pointed ear.

The next question was how to approach this? Would Morty need to call on Gengar’s phasing abilities? Morty asked Gengar to turn invisible, so as not to scare Whitney, and decided that a sensitive approach would be best. He got to number 19 and took a deep breath.

He rapped three times on the door.

“Coming!”

Morty blinked rapidly and cleared his throat. He wished Jasmine were here; she was so good at talking and saying clever things, he was always getting his words mixed up. The door opened, and a red-haired lady appeared with curlers in her hair. She had round spectacles, and looked unimpressed.

“Yes?”

“I - er - Hi! That is, hey…erm, I wanted to see Whitney.”

“A lot of people want to see Whitney, she’s a very popular girl,” the woman said. “What are you, a fan of Expose? You want an autograph?”

“What!” Morty said. “No, that TV show sucks. I’m Morty, I used to run the Ecruteak Gym. I want to speak to Whitney about something really, really important.”

The lady raised her eyebrows.

“I didn’t recognise you,” she said coolly. “You don’t suit your hair long. I’m Mary, DJ Mary.”

“Oh, right,” Morty said. “Yea, your voice sounded kind of familiar…”

“I’m sure,” she said. Whitney appeared behind Mary and beamed at the sight of him.

“Morty!” she said. “Oh my god, what are you doing here?”

Morty took an apprehensive, perhaps over-dramatic look around him to check nobody was around, before answering Whitney’s question.

“I need to come inside, it’s really serious,” he said. Mary looked uninterested, but Whitney saw something her partner did not; she nodded, and invited Morty inside. He shut the door behind him, moments before Lorelei strode purposefully along the street.

“No sign of him,” she said, holding a compact mirror to her face. The mirror was actually a small screen, showing Michael Mitchelson at his desk. “Do you think he’s inside?”

“He might not know where she is, but he can teleport,” Michael said. “I’m not sure, Lorelei. Go and check, if you can. She’s apartment 19.”

“So what’s wrong?” Whitney asked, inviting Morty into the living room. Mary watched the two from afar, making a cup of tea. “We’re kind of busy today, Morty…”

“I came here to warn you,” he said. “I have it on very good authority that something bad is going to happen at the Exhibition Match today.”

“What kind of something?” Mary snapped.

“Something to me?” Whitney asked, fearful.

“I don’t know,” Morty said. “Well, I do. We think the people behind the thefts in Goldenrod City are planning to storm the Exhibition Match today. To steal.”

Whitney let out a cry and covered her mouth.

“How do you know this? And who is ‘we’?” asked Mary.

“I work for…” Morty began. He paused for a minute, unsure what his story was when he talked to people. When he was in Azalea with Jasmine, he claimed to be from the Pokemon League, but that was to recover a stolen Pokemon - that made sense. But now, investigating a breach of security?

“You’re with Jasmine, aren’t you?” Whitney asked. “She spoke to me, a while ago now. Said she was working for a ‘task force’ investigating the thefts. She tried to recruit me, saying my involvement would be good, since I’m on TV and stuff…but I found it all a bit much.”

“I’m with her,” Morty confirmed. “We all work sort of…secluded from one another though. So we never know too much in case we’re compromised.”

That sounds good, he thought to himself.

“We think the company want to use the TV coverage of the match to spread fear in Johto,” said Morty in a dark tone. “And if they steal from a gym leader, even better.”

“Who are these people?” Mary asked, disgusted.

“There are different factions, funded by the same large companies,” Morty said. “We think.”

“How much risk to you think Whitney is at?” Mary asked. For someone looking so disinterested in the issue, Mary was asking a lot of questions. Morty just shook his head.

“We don’t know,” he said.

“Well, are you going to hire protection? Alert the police?” Whitney asked.

“There’s a problem with that,” Morty explained. “We can’t disrupt the match, or intercept the people planning that. The main reason is we don’t know who the people are, or what they look like. But more importantly, we’ve been receiving death threats. Our families lives are at risk if we try and stop them from disrupting the match.”

“Excuse me?” Mary said.

“So what you’re saying is, there’s a chance I’m going to be attacked today,” Whitney said. “But you’re not going to do anything about it?”

“Our hands are tied, but I have a solution,” Morty said. “Don’t turn up to the exhibition match. Call in sick.”

Whitney and Mary shared a nervous look; the cup of tea was no longer steaming, now lukewarm and growing colder. Whitney, who was already dressed in for the match (all in white, from a polo shirt, to tailored shorts to white plimsolls with knee-length socks) had her new gym badge pinned to her chest. Subconsciously, her fingers fiddled with the catch on the badge, unhooking it slightly.

“This is insane,” Mary said, flat out. “Morty, you just came here with this, this…”

“Mary,” Whitney began.

“No, I think it’s bullshit,” Mary said. “Are you seriously telling me nobody else knows this? Nobody has tried to contact us, help us, before today? We have to be at the Gym in an hour! I…I don’t like this at all.”

“I don’t, either,” Whitney admitted.

“He’s trying to make money out of us,” Mary said, out of nowhere. “Morty, I’ve never heard of that employer you claim to work for…I think you have a bet going on the outcome of the match.”

“Excuse me?” Morty said.

“That’s it, you have money on Eusine winning. Or maybe Whitney losing. And you realised the odds are against you, so you came here to try and make sure Whit didn’t turn up.”

Morty looked at Mary, who seemed content with her deduction. Morty couldn’t understand how she came to this conclusion, and why his suggestion - the logical one - failed to impact their decision. He had come here to warn them, to ward them off, but instead Mary was suggesting he had his own agenda.

“I…do you really think he’s trying to make money?” Whitney asked Mary.

“He only mentioned Jasmine after you prompted it,” Mary said. “If Morty really worked with Jasmine, if he knew she had already met you, he would have mentioned it to gain your trust. Nice try, Morty.”

“What?” Morty said. “Did you not hear me? This is serious!”

“Sorry, but you can’t just break our door down and expect us to change our plans,” Whitney said, although she spoke in a hushed tone. “Morty…this doesn’t make sense.”

“You have to understand how serious this is,” Morty said, but Mary made it clear he was to leave. Despite his protests, and attempts to appeal to Whitney, who he seemed to be making more of a case with, Morty was ushered through the house by her stubborn girlfriend.

“You do realise she’s in danger?” Morty said coldly to the girl, as she opened the front door.

“Once I slam the door, slightly less so,” Mary replied, equally crisp, as she pushed Morty outside.

He cursed loudly as Mary disappeared beneath a thick slam. Fuck. The whole plan of keeping Whitney away had failed; Morty thought about phasing back into the house, but didn’t want to cause a struggle or have a fight erupt. Looking at his watch, he realised he had twenty minutes.

Suddenly, as if a grim light bulb was turned on in his head, something occurred to Morty. He saw an image of Whitney falling down a set of stairs, her leg breaking…well, she’d need to go to the hospital, and people fall all the time. It wouldn’t stir suspicion if she hurt herself…she was in a hurry…

Snap out of it, he told himself. Persuading himself to trip Whitney down a flight of stairs? These were dark thoughts; Morty felt ashamed as he walked down the stairs to street level, disgusted that he had considered hurting someone to further his agenda.

Though, it would help in the long run, wouldn’t it? Would hurting one person be justified if it prevented the thefts? Steven Stone couldn’t assume Mr Mitchelson hurt somebody to throw him off…Michael was too nice, and he wouldn’t agree to it.

As Morty let out a sigh, he wrapped his arms around his body; it felt cold this morning, even though the weather has been very pleasant when he left MooMoo Farm. What to do now? He considered cloaking and going to the Gym, observing the match from afar. Maybe he could identify the thieves and pursue them at a later date…

Suddenly, there was a loud bang. Looking up to the skies, Morty saw a shower of sharp spikes arch down towards him. He let out a cry and ran to the far wall, pressing himself against it as the thick, javelin-sized spikes smashed into the ground, shattering.

“What the fuck?” he gasped, looking around. Seconds later, he felt a plunging feeling in his stomach; he rose off the ground slowly and his entire body began to tingle uncomfortably. Next, the brick wall ahead seemed to lurch at him - an unseen force pinned Morty against the lip of the alleyway.

“HELP!” Morty shouted. A slim lady walked towards him; she had berry-red hair tied back and red spectacles, smiling as she neared. While the initial appearance of someone was a delight for Morty, he was not stupid, and realised she was responsible for pinning him here.

“Hey,” he snapped. “What are you doing?”

“You need to stop running around and ruining things,” she said, as if telling a child not to steal. Morty’s muscles gave sharp stings of pain as he lay helpless against the brick wall. His head and neck were limber; the Pokemon applying the psychic attack to keep him in place was obviously targeting his core muscles.

A Slowbro waddled over to the woman, who acknowledged it without looking in its direction.

“Who are you?” he asked. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Of course not,” she said. “My name is Lorelei. Mr Mitchelson sent me here to stop you ruining the Exhibition Match. Your interfering could get someone killed.”

“I don’t care what you say,” said Morty in a strained voice. He was trying to flex his muscles but it was useless.

“You should,” Lorelei said airily. “Michael is a wise person.”

Morty pulled an ugly, sour face as he stared at Lorelei. She was looking at Morty as if studying a mildly fascinating oil painting, tilting her head left and right.

“You work for him?” Morty asked. “L-Like Jasmine?”

“He has many of us,” Lorelei replied. “We recover Pokemon, we track registered criminals. An associate of mine has been working in Kanto for five months.”

“Why didn’t I know about you?”

“Because you’re new,” Lorelei said, before adding, “Sweetheart.

“Jasmine’s been fully trained, she’s an agent. You were only learning when you disappeared. Michael roped me in to work with Jasmine for a bit.”

“How many more are there?” Morty said, still inquisitive.

“Even I don’t know that,” she said. “But I’ll tell you this -

Before she finished her sentence, something menacing smashed into Slowbro and hurtled him along the alleyway. As Lorelei cried out in shock, Morty fell to his knees, the telekinesis wearing off with Slowbro‘s distractedness. He felt a searing pain and his kneecaps stung. Looking, Morty could see Gengar materialising next to Slowbro, his large red eyes looming.

“Oh!” Lorelei cried. “You fight dirty!”

“No worse than pinning me against the wall!” Morty yelled. Gengar swept through the air, a fist crackling with dark energy. Slowbro got back up, scowling, but was slugged across the jaw a second time. Morty decided to make a run for it.

“Gengar, fix him in place with mean look!” he ordered. As he turned, Slowbro leapt at him and managed to grab both his wrists. Morty screamed as Slowbro pinned him down, sending a horrible freezing sensation through his wrists.

Seconds later, Gengar let out a high shriek and clapped his hands together with an almighty bang. Slowbro flew off Morty, tossed into the wall like a rag doll as Morty got to his feet. His wrists ached, but he knew not to try fighting Lorelei - she had a coolness radiating from her that suggested she was more than capable of fighting him.

Morty ran as fast as he could down the alleyway, not daring to look back. He didn’t sense Lorelei or Slowbro were following him, but the warm rush sweeping alongside him - Gengar in flight - made him feel less scared.

Was he wise to trust this woman? It didn’t seem likely, and even if she was working for Michael, she came here to apprehend him, which made her an enemy. As he passed Candour Street, Morty realised he needed to make his way to the gym - he could maybe intercept Whitney’s vehicle.

Suddenly, an intense pain filled Morty and he screwed his eyes shut as he dropped to his knees. An ice-cold pain drowned his body; it emanated from his wrists, where Slowbro had grabbed him. Staring down, Morty could see two thick, icy cuffs frozen around his wrists; they were very painful.

Fighting back tears, Morty got to his feet and ran again, but with each step he felt another pain flooding his senses. Eventually, he staggered into the side of a wall, gasping and examining the large chunks of ice. They felt so smooth and clean-cut, like the finest glass, but they were cold, so cold to the touch. Slowbro had used an attack to freeze his wrists like this, but why was the pain so severe?

“It’s my thing,” came Lorelei’s voice, as she walked along the alley. “My signature move. Slowbro is special, far more special than any other of its species, because it trained with my ice Pokemon, and developed ice proficiency far better than its signature water moves. Coupled with psychic attacks, it became a formidable ally of my Jynx.

“The Voodo Ice Cuffs latch a diamond-tough icy sheen around the enemy, and using his intense mental control, Slowbro can hurt you no matter how far you run. When he touches you, he creates a mental connection. And this ice won’t melt easily, either.”

Horrified at what Lorelei did to him, Morty stared at the woman as she effortlessly gripped him by his upper arm and led him down the alleyway. The pain in his wrists - which seemed to run like water up his arms and to his head - was mentally draining.

“W-Where are you taking me,” Morty murmured, his focus slipping.

“Back to Mr Mitchelson,” Lorelei said simply.

Morty wasn’t sure what happened next. He heard a scream as the pain in his wrists throbbed powerfully; a sharp pain hit his head, but he didn’t understand if he had been hit, or if the pain Slowbro administered was seeping to his head.

Next, a sinking feeling in his stomach, and Morty’s feet felt light and floppy. Opening his eyes, he could see Gengar gripping him tightly, soaring up into the sky. Lorelei lay on the street below, knocked out, while Slowbro was aiming an ice beam at them.

He could sense what Gengar was doing, and knew they were cloaked. Gengar swept along the sky and avoided the ice beam, taking his trainer to Goldenrod City Gym. The large building, once a cathedral, looked splendid among the modern buildings in the large city, and as Gengar approached the bell tower, he phased effortlessly among the brick, emerging in the small, cold room.

Laying his trainer down, Gengar thought for a moment about what exactly to do. Morty had wanted to get to the gym, which he had helped achieve, but what did he need to do now? Looking at his trainer, who groaned with pain as the voodo ice cuffs took full effect, Gengar walked to the stained glass window, and saw an expensive car pull up to the building.

“We’re too late,” Morty gasped. “The match is about to start.”

Meanwhile, Whitney and Eusine were standing on the arena as the Chief Deputy Head Events Coordinator of the Associate Co-Committee to the Johto League, a small and bespectacled man named Orson Leather, announced a few minute details.

Eusine, decked in a flamboyant purple cloak, silver waistcoat and shimmering red tie, seemed confident, smiling at Whitney as Orson Leather delivered his speech. She was thinking about Morty’s words - that something in the Gym Match was about to go horribly wrong.

*

“What’s wrong, Lorelei?” Michael asked, answering his phone.

“Morty escaped,” she said. “I did the voodoo ice cuffs, but he got away. I keep getting Slowbro to apply pressure, so I know he’s in pain…”

“Well, Slowbro can locate Morty using the cuffs,” Michael told her. “Where is he?”

“Goldenrod Gym,” she replied. “I can’t go barging in there. He’s hidden there because he knows I can’t attack him in front of everyone, and it means he can snoop on the Gym Match.”

“Go there,” Michael said. “Be my eyes. Please, Lorelei, we can’t let this go wrong.”

*

Whitney released her Miltank first, watching as it formed onto the arena. This was her favourite Pokemon; strong, sturdy, but wickedly fast. During her time as a normal-type Gym Leader, this was her weapon, her real threat. Unfortunately, since the Reclassification, she had been assigned more speed-based Pokemon to fit in with the theme of her gym.

Luckily, the trusted cow stayed on her roster, and Whitney felt more confident sending out one of her oldest Pokemon. Whitney watched as Eusine threw a Pokeball out onto the arena and released his first Pokemon; it was a Wheezing. The large, gaseous Pokemon bobbed in mid-air, pulling a wretched face.

Someone shouted, and the match had begun. Ordering the first attack. Whitney commanded Miltank to use a rollout. Leaping up, the cow tucked her limbs in and sped along the arena, picking up speed. Whitney watched, her Pokemon a blur, just like her mind.

Miltank flew up, but Weezing swept out the way at the last minute. As Miltank landed, bearing her fists and watching the foe with suspicion, Whitney scanned the crowd. Who among them was planning to ruin this event, and when were they going to do so? She saw Mary watch her, fearfully, and turned back to the arena to see Weezing blast a jet of fire through the air.

“Ha!” she said, remembering Miltank’s useful resistance against fire and ice. While her Pokemon had been struck, and staggered backwards, she did not feel the heat much. Weezing moaned, before firing off a thick mouthful of sludge. Miltank avoided it.

She leapt into the air and curled her body tightly, before hitting the ground and speeding across the arena. Whitney watched Miltank gain speed; the arena was purposefully large to help her Pokemon use their speed more effectively. Weezing swept along and spat globules of slime at Miltank, but she evaded them effortlessly.

Once she had built up enough speed, she launched herself into the air and tackled Weezing, knocking him to the ground. He floated back up, before sweeping down to try and tackle the cow. Miltank sped away, before throwing herself into the air and performing intricate tricks before she landed on the ground again.

“Another rollout!” Whitney cried. With more speed came more power, and as Miltank flew along the arena, a candy-pink blur, the commentator mentioned Whitney’s team being so fast they were striking before Eusine could use any of his famous illusion techniques.

“Thunderbolt!” he yelled. Weezing summoned sparks to course across his body, but when he fired the piercing arrow of lightning, Miltank darted out the way.

“Will-O-Wisp!”

As the creature groaned and moaned, flames popped up around him like sinister spirits. Periwinkle blue in colour, they were hotter and caused serious burns on the victim. Miltank wheeled around the arena, but Weezing swept along after her, shooting down balls of blue flame to try and strike.

Sweeping left, right and even leaping up, Miltank dodged most the flames. But as she landed on the ground, she saw a huge ball of blue fire come at her before she could register it. For a brief moment, a searing, hot pain flooded her body and she let out a long and sorrowful moo as a scorch smeared across her belly.

“Miltank!” Whitney cried. She knew that if her stomach was burned, rolling into a ball would be difficult - had that been Eusine’s plan?

Miltank did attempt to curl into a ball, but winced in pain, and looked back at her trainer with anxiety. Weezing began to move around the arena with a soft glow, creating new, identical copies that popped up around the arena. The swarm, all moving and acting of their own accord, had the same sunken eyes, the yellowed fangs on the bottom jaw and squirmed slightly as gas was produced within.

Something to strike the foes with…since she relied a lot on physical attacks, Whitney had never trained Miltank to use long-range attacks that could deplete the illusion Weezing created. Still, only one was real, and she had to figure out a way to find out which one it was.

Then, a long, rattling groan. Miltank looked to see a grim, twisted face leering at her. She wailed out loud and covered her eyes, but Whitney whispered words of encouragement. As the Weezing cluster swarmed the area, grunting their name, leering at the foe, they darted in different directions. Some flew to the rafters, others circled Miltank.

Whitney was trembling as she watched Miltank struggle, but realised, as a bilious bubbling filled her stomach, it was not nerves at the battle. She scanned the audience again, wondering who was planning on ruining the match…and when were they going to do it?

With a sharp bang, Miltank was hurled across the arena, a thick sludge mark across her left side. Weezing - whichever one was corporeal - had peppered her with a sludge bomb, and she hit the ground hard. As she got up, Whitney realised she was being completely naïve. She had a way to remedy this.

“Heal bell!” she ordered. The round end of Miltank’s tail glowed white and bobbed in the air; it swung softly from left to right and a low ringing song filled the arena. Hearing the bell’s chime stirred hope in Whitney, and she watched as Miltank’s burn softened, healing quickly. The Weezing group looked disgusted at the beautiful harmony.

“Rollout!” Whitney said, and her Pokemon eagerly dived into the spinning attack. A bolt of lightning darted across the arena like a sparkling golden javelin - Weezing was trying to strike Miltank, but she avoided it as she turned sharply and gathered more speed.

“Haze,” Eusine ordered. Each Weezing belched a thick cloud of chilled, icy smoke. Whitney saw the clouds spreading, meeting and merging into a thicker blanket that began to cover the arena. Intuitively, Miltank slowed down; speeding into darkness was a bad idea.

Eusine was effortlessly halting Whitney’s attempts to strike at high speed. As she peered into the haze, Whitney knew Miltank’s time was drawing to a close, and it stung to know she had barely had a chance to attack. In this match, there was no substituting - making each Pokemon crucial. Pink patches appeared in her cheeks as she chastised herself for letting Miltank’s skill go to waste.

“Flamethrower!” Eusine ordered. A quick, red-hot jet of flame shot through the air, narrowly missing Miltank. It seemed a bad idea, firing fire into the darkness, until Whitney realised Eusine used the fire attack to figure out Miltank’s location.

Racking her brains, she wondered what she could do to try and combat this. There was a thick, heavy thud, and Miltank was hurtled out from the smoky veil and into the air. As she hit the ground, Whitney saw her covered in purple marks - she looked poisoned.

“Another double edge!” Eusine cried. Before Miltank could get up, Weezing flew low along the arena and, as he slammed into her, she was thrown high into the air, wailing loudly. Whitney shook herself for a moment - this was ridiculous.

“Return!” she said, shooting the Pokeball beam into the air and pulling her Pokemon back. Her voice fell to a mere whisper, “I’m so sorry.”

The announcer was talking about Whitney’s poor strategies, how she had sacrificed her main powerhouse so early in the match. She ignored him, finding the smaller, lighter Pokeball on her belt and maximising it.

“I choose you, Swellow!”

Bursting from the ball was her sleek, handsome bird. He flew high into the air to rapturous applause from the crowd, something which raised Whitney’s hopes.

“Weezing, go for -

“Whirlwind!” cried Whitney, as Swellow raised his wings and blasted a thick, twisting sheet of wind across the arena. The haze was driven away to the windows, to the ventilation and out the way with no effort. As the handsome bird flapped harder, some of Weezing’s weaker clones were eradicated, dissipating as if made from sand.

“Tackle” Eusine ordered. Weezing swept out the path of the wind and aimed a tackle at Swellow, but the bird turned and zipped higher into the air. Next, he darted down like a bullet, smashing into Weezing and knocking him into the ground.

“Good work!” Whitney said. Eusine looked at Swellow, perhaps wondering if his evasion was less likely to work on such a Pokemon. As he mused, Swellow tore around the arena, creating his own army of identical clones. Seeing this, Whitney looked to Eusine - how would he feel about her using his technique?

“Flamethrower!”

A jet of flame whooshed through the air; it passed a clone who failed to react to the scorching heat. The real Swellow was circling overhead, waiting for the moment to strike Weezing.

In a flash, he dived - a steep, twisting dive as his beak stuck out, pointed. Swellow smashed into Weezing once more, hurtling the large purple Pokemon to the ground. He floated back up, grunting, and powered up another flamethrower, but Whitney had an idea.

“Mirror move!”

Swellow was covered in a glittering sheen as he, too, unleashed a jet of flame. His was thinner, perhaps not as hot, for he was no master of fire attacks. The two jets met and caused a huge bang, which rippled across the arena, depleting any remaining clones.

“Another double team!” Eusine shouted. “Quick!”

“Go for a whirlwind!” came Whitney’s retort. As Swellow flapped his wings, Weezing appeared out of nowhere, dealing a heavy tackle in mid-air. Before being able to retort, Swellow looked to see another thick belch of haze filling the arena.

This is silly! Whitney thought. He knows I can combat this…he’s cleverer than that, surely?

She had an idea.

“Swellow, use a quick attack to head into the heart of the haze,” she said. “Use supersonic as you go.”

Swellow, like many birds, had an excellent use of bird calls. He was able to release a sound in an area and detect how long it took the sound to reflect back to his ears - doing this, he could judge distance. Whitney’s theory was that Weezing’s clones, being nothing more than illusions, would allow sound to pass through them.

However, once Swellow flew into the ice-cold cloud of haze, something was immediately wrong. The blue smoke glowed brightly, and Whitney could feel a heat swarming the arena. She shouted for her Pokemon, but it was useless.

From within the cloud there was a gigantic explosion. Audience members screamed as a fireball rocketed into the sky, throwing Swellow out of the sky. He smashed into the ground with a sickening snap as smoke and fire billowed out from the middle of the arena.

Whitney panicked as smoke curled around her ankles and obscured her vision; she could no longer see the audience, although she heard the announcer remark on Weezing’s use of explosion. The air was thick and it hurt to breathe; Whitney coughed as she looked around, trying to find Swellow.

Suddenly, there was another bang and a scream; Whitney saw blurred figures rushing around among the smoke; what was going on? Bending down, she reached out and felt Swellow by her side, and recalled him quickly. Who were these people on the arena - did they not know the match was still underway?

An elbow connected with Whitney’s head and she stumbled in surprise; as she staggered, she found a pair of arms grab her round the chest.

“Hey! What are you doing!” she exclaimed.

“Shh…”

“Hey! I’m in the middle of -”

A hand clamped over her mouth and Whitney struggled against an invisible captor. A hand felt around her waist, and with one, two, three plucks, Whitney had her Pokemon taken from her. She attempted a scream, tried to flail her limbs, but was bound tight.

*

Morty had been feeling drowsy and tired, but the screams from the arena jerked him awake. He could see the arena from his position in the bell tower - there was a small window that he peered through to see an arena filling with smoke.

“Something’s going on,” he gasped. “This is it Gengar!”

He turned to go to the staircase leading him towards the arena, but as he turned, he saw an all-too-familiar lady standing before him. Lorelei smiled with an air of seduction and Morty’s wrists ached again.

“You!”

“You’re not the only one who can teleport,” she said coolly. Morty fell to the ground, his wrists throbbing and sending an ice cold pain flooding up to his brain.

“THE GYM IS BEING ATTACKED!” he screamed.

“Exactly, and we can use this vantage point to see who leaves the arena first. They will be the thieves! Use your head, Morty, if we go charging in there we are useless! Blind!”

“How are you hurting me so much,” Morty groaned, writhing on the floor.

“Slowbro is a clever beast,” Lorelei replied. She walked to the window overlooking the street of Goldenrod. People walked along, chatting in cafes and doing shopping. Did they not realise the chaos that was unfolding?

*

Whitney felt hands release her, and collapsed to her knees. Shadowy figures fled from around her and she moaned as smoke filled her lungs. Coughing, crying, bawling, Whitney struggled to find the strength to get up.

“HELP!” she screamed. “MY POKEMON…HELP!”

Something grabbed her arm, but it was a soft touch, and that sharp, floral scent reminded her of home… Mary had found her, and took her to the edge of the arena, where the smoke had thinned.

“Mary!” Whitney said.

“Are you okay?” Mary asked. “What happened?”

“Someone… someone stole my Pokemon,” Whitney gasped.

“Who?”

“I didn’t see… loads of people… they fled…”

“Weezing’s explosion filled the place with smoke… then there was a bang, and the spectator stand fell apart…everyone’s been running around, we need medical assistance,” Mary gasped. Whitney saw her face was shining with sweat, and her hair frazzled.

“We need to get out of here!” Whitney said.

“Morty was right,” Mary said darkly. “We should have listened…”

Whitney pulled away from her partner and raced along the outskirts of the arena. She saw people lying on the ground, injured, and saw Eusine stemming a bleeding nose.

“What happened?” she cried.

“Someone planned this!” Eusine cried. “They knew I specialised in cloaking and illusion, they acted on my strategy!”

“Did you lose any Pokemon?” Whitney asked. Eusine hesitated. “Did you!”

“No, no,” Eusine said, checking. “I didn’t get robbed.”

“I…right,” Whitney said. Eusine tried laying a hand on her, but she pushed him aside and raced along the arena, trying to find the door.

*

Morty clutched his head, groaning. He lay in the corner of the bell tower as Lorelei scanned the area. Suddenly, she let out a cry.

“There! Three people running!”

Morty looked to see the icy cuffs on his wrists shrink and retract, and with it, he found the strength to get up and look at the window. Emerging from the gym were three adults, two men and a woman. Lorelei looked quickly at Morty to gauge his reaction, before looking back.

“That woman…”

“Are they thieves?”

“Must be.”

A black car, hidden just down an alleyway, was waiting. The three got in, and as the woman opened the door, Morty caught a glance. She was incredibly beautiful, her slender figure hidden by a large white coat. She got into the car and it soon sped off down the streets of Goldenrod.

“We can’t chase them, you know that,” Lorelei told him, as if reading his mind. “We can’t.

“What can we do then?” Morty asked.

“We are the eyes and ears,” she told him sternly. “We can’t do anything.”

*

Meanwhile, the smoke had thinned across the arena and medical help had arrived to deal with any people injured. Whitney returned from her venture outside - she ran to try and catch up with the thieves but was too tired, too emotional to give chase.

She was being fussed over by a paramedic, Mary watching her sternly.

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

On the other side of the arena, Eusine sat on the floor, watching the fallout from the chaos. A paramedic came over to him, perhaps wondering if he was hurt.

“Have you had a check-up?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Eusine replied. The man sat him on a fold-out chair and took out a device to measure his blood pressure. Eusine lifted the sleeve of his shirt and let the man wrap the strap around.

“So, you’re not hurt at all?”

“No,” Eusine said. The man smiled.

“Then everything went without a hitch.”

Eusine’s eyes widened, and he stared at the man.

“You?”

“Thanks for your cooperation,” he said, still checking Eusine for injuries.

“I…I didn’t know…”

“We told you just to battle, and we’d take care of the rest,” he explained. “We told you we’d act after you used explosion.”

“So…you stole…”

“You know what we did,” said the paramedic.

“And what about your end of the bargain?”

“We’ll give you what we promised,” the paramedic said. “But that’s not my job. You want Jack Surge for that. Just go home, don’t speak to anyone. We’ll be in touch soon.”

Eusine rose from his seat, bid goodbye to the man, and walked across the arena. Whitney’s expression after she was robbed haunted him; her horrified expression, her aching loss… and he had been implicit in it. But, he reminded himself, it was necessary.

*

That evening, Michael Mitchelson was in his office. Unusually, he was not working. He sat at his desk, longing to get a flight home to Pua Samoa, where he could see his wife and daughter. Something was rooting him to his office, though. He was waiting to hear from Steven Stone.

He wasn’t sure if Steven would contact him, but he had a wild feeling the man would confirm (or brag?) that the theft went successfully. He examined a photograph of his three children - William, Milo and Mia, and gazed fondly at their bright faces. Each were several years younger, and each so optimistic, so happy.

The lighting in the room crackled; Michael looked to see the room get darker as his computer began to turn on. This was it. Steven’s calling card.

“Hello Michael,” came a voice. Michael looked to see Steven sitting in a comfortable chair, broadcasting to Michael’s screen. The deranged Porygon-Z was in the corner of the screen, his eyes shooting around wildly.

“Steven,” Michael said crisply.

“I’d like to thank you for not interfering today,” Steven explained. He swept his silver fringe from his face, looking utterly relaxed. “Thanks to you we captured three of Whitney’s Pokemon. Panic has spread across Goldenrod City, and the newspapers tomorrow are awash with fear and upset.”

“This is all good, I assume?” Michael asked coldly.

“It’s what we wanted,” he replied. “My field team tell me Whitney’s Pokemon will earn a lot of money.”

“Why are you doing this,” Michael asked. “You surely understand my plight to stop thefts, to reunite Pokemon. What do you gain from stealing, breaking hearts, tearing families apart?”

Steven thought for a moment.

“Money,” he replied. “I gain money from it, Michael.”

There was a pause, in which Steven checked his cuffs, looked around the room and readjusted himself. Michael watched him, feeling under pressure. What was he going to say? What would he do? After a moment, Steven cleared his throat.

“You did as I asked. I have asked my men to retreat from your family. They will be safe from me.”

“Thank you,” Michael replied.

“I am not a villain, Michael,” Steven explained.

Michael nodded.

“But just so you know… when I can locate her, I will hunt down Jasmine. She killed Adam Anderson and I will not have her go unpunished.”

“You’ll never find her,” Michael said, recalling the impressive illusionary protection granted by the family of Stantler.

“She’s at the old farm, north of Olivine,” Steven replied, with a wicked smile. Michael gasped - how did Steven know this? “I do my homework, Michael. And while we can’t get to her location due to the creature’s protection, we will break it. We will.”

Steven got to his feet.

“That girl will die a violent, horrible death.”


Notes
Okay, sorry for the massive wait!

-This is the end of the Golden Arc, but that doesn't mean the characters and plots don't interweave with the main plot.

-This arc -and all others during the fic - are intended to explain back story and develop characters when they aren't in the main portion of the fic.

-In fact, some of the characters here are involved in the arc after Violet.

-The team who raided the gym are a different 'team' to the ones at the casino. This team are the field agents, who are a bit more violent. The female is actually the woman who killed Keadis, and will appear again soon.

-The next arc will not be as long - just a few small installments. It is called 'Oscar's Mission'



Thoughts, queries, etc, I'd love to hear them.

Ch26 is on the way. I sort of tweaked it to include a huge battle with a recurring character
-

[Chris 2.1]

Hello all! Hope you are all well. So here is the next chapter - quite an unusual one - but I've been reading a few thrillers lately and I think my writing has been a bit influenced by it.

Previously, Milo and Jake split for a while as Milo competed in Cherrygrove. After losing to Mia, Milo trained against Dior before finally making his way back to Violet City.

Jake and Gina let the Membership Card fall into Falkner's grasp, causing the young gym leader to seek answers... and an unusual alliance with Oscar.

Show-Off
-XXVII-
Singapore Sling

The next morning, Jake and Gina were sitting in East Violet, near the Route Gate. Milo was on his way back from Cherrygrove City, and though it had only been a few days, Jake had missed the boy’s company immensely.

Something in his heart told Jake that his feelings for Milo were growing by the day; like a plant the roots crept further, ensnaring more and making everything harder to dislodge. He sat on a low brick wall by the side of the road, waiting, as he promised, for Milo’s return.

“So have you heard from him?” Gina asked.

“He didn’t win the contest,” Jake said, biting his lip. “So I guess he’ll be pretty bummed. But he didn’t say much else.”

“He must be pretty down,” said Gina, lighting a cigarette.

“No, I don’t think he knows how to use his new phone,” remarked Jake. “Have you got any advice? I haven’t really seen him since our drunk chat…”

“You want advice from a girl who lies on her back for a living?” Gina said, flicking ash. “Sorry Jakey, you’re on your own.”

Jake sighed, swinging his feet slowly as he perched on the wall. Parasect was keenly sucking the brick, trying to drain what little moisture was within it, and Ditto was playing with Gina’s Ampharos, melding and solidifying around his muscles to ‘massage’ his aching body. Ampharos rolled his eyes with relief.

“I think I see the car!” Gina said, stubbing her cigarette out on the brick wall. Jake looked up, excited, to see the maroon car coming in from the Route Gate. Behind the wheel was Milo, looking unshaven but happy, while Medicham was in the passenger seat. As they neared, Jake saw Medicham was solving a rubix cube.

Milo parked the car on the side of the road and took the key from the ignition. Jake beamed as he got out the car, but before he said hello Gina swept over, embracing him and planting a wet kiss on his cheek. Milo looked shocked, but smiled weakly as Gina fussed over him.

“So nice to see you,” she said, playing with her hair. It struck Jake that Gina was quite dressed up considering it was early afternoon, but her attempts to seduce Milo didn’t work; he walked past her and beamed at Jake.

“You alright Jakey?” he said, gripping him in a tight hug. Jake mumbled something, but found his earlier thoughts - knotted together like damp seaweed - were untangling of their own accord. Milo was his friend, above everything. And seeing him in his favourite sweater, in the flesh, that scent clinging to his body, made everything okay.

“I’m good,” Jake said. “So…?”

“I lost.”

“That sucks!” Jake said sympathetically. “Tough match?”

“Yea, I was against my sister,” Milo said, and he started telling Jake all about how he met Mia and his mother in Cherrygrove city. Jake nodded as Milo talked him through the contest; Magneton’s overwhelming electric appeal and Mia’s unusual Froslass. Gina didn’t pay much attention, filing her nails as Milo told of his shock when Mia sent a Gallade into battle - and how it devastated his team.

“Well, there’s no shame in losing to the best,” Jake mused.

“And I met Dior,” Milo said.

“That jerk from Goldenrod?” Jake said, pulling a sour face. Milo laughed.

“He’s alright, really,” Milo said. “Hit a slump in his training, so we had a bit of a battle. His Venonat evolved.”

“Meh,” Jake said.

“What’s been going on with you guys?” Milo said. He was aware Gina was feeling distant from the conversation, so attempted to lure her in.

“We raided a Pawn shop to get some of my Pokemon back,” Gina said. “I sold a couple to pay my bills, you see. Jakey helped me beat up the smelly guy who had them.”

“Er, also…” Jake said, gulping. “And Falkner knows about the Membership Card.”

“What!” Milo shouted. “How!”

“Gina stole it from me and gave it to him,” Jake said, shooting her a dark glare. “And he used his Xatu to read it, he saw everything that happened to his father.”

“No! GINA!” Milo cried. “You idiot!”

“Oh fuck you, Milo,” Gina snapped. “He needed to know the truth, and god knows you didn’t have the balls to actually tell him yourself.”

“I… I was going to, I mean I would have got round to explaining it,” Milo said, though he could see her point. “Was he mad?”

“With you guys? No, he was actually pretty understanding,” Gina said.

“So, where is he?” Milo asked.

“He went to the National Park,” Gina said. “He saw someone in the card’s memory…a guy called Barry Bumble?”

Milo and Jake gasped.

“Bug-Eye-Brambles!” said Jake.

“That was him, the guy who saw Keadis die,” Milo said, shock drawing on his face. “I can’t believe that didn’t register with me. That must be what made Barry so fucking loopy, he saw Keadis brutally murdered in front of him…”

“I feel sick,” Jake said sadly.

“Well I feel hungry,” Gina said, flicking her hair. “Shall we get some sushi or something?”

Milo agreed, and the three of them got into Cecilia’s car. Gina complained about sitting in the back, so Jake did the noble thing and offered to let her sit next to Milo. Medicham returned to her Pokeball, but not before glaring at Gina with utter contempt.

Gina and Jake seemed to have formed a close bond while Milo was away, which he was glad for. Jake’s hair had been tidied, with the sides shorter and the fringe neater. Gina, meanwhile, looked nothing but glamorous; nude-coloured heels showed off her long legs, while her summery dress seemed designed to draw attention to her cleavage.

As they drove through Violet City, Milo decided to unload his things at the hotel before they went for lunch. Jake was chatting about his training with Falkner, explaining the two had been working on Wingull’s attacks before Falkner left the city.

“I think he’s really close to evolving!” he said, excitedly. “Oh, and I have a new Pokemon!”

“You do?” Milo said.

“Adorable, but I’ll wait until we’re outside,” Jake said, smiling.

“I got a new member of my team, too,” Milo said.

They arrived at a sunny plaza not far from Sprout Tower; pretty potted plants were arranged in neat boxes, and people were eating meals at various restaurants, cafes and bars around the main square. A water feature in the shape of an elegant bird was shooting a jet into the sky.

The group settled around a circular table and looked at the menus; Milo wasn’t sure about inner-city sushi, thinking the idea seemed overly cosmopolitan, but Jake and Gina gasped and pointed at the different coloured parcels of raw fish.

“When we holiday at Seafoam,” Milo began. “That’s fresh. I’m not sure about this.”

“Don’t be such a killjoy,” Gina said.

Jake got a Pokeball from his pocket and tapped it, maximising the capsule to full size. Milo watched keenly as he pressed the button, springing the top half open and causing a ball of energy to splash onto the ground and take form.

It was a small creature; fluffy and orange, with short wings and two clawed feet. Once the light faded, the little Torchic blinked several times, adjusting to its surroundings.

“Isn’t she amazing?” Jake said, clasping his eyes together and gazing at his new Pokemon with love.

“Pretty cool,” Milo said. “A fire type, eh?”

Torchic ran around the table, emitting a little chirp as she ran. She would tear along in one direction before doing a u-turn and doubling back, and Milo noticed she seemed to enjoy running with her eyes closed.

“Is she good in battle?” Milo asked.

“Well, when I captured her, she didn’t put up much of a fight,” Jake admitted. “We found her down an alleyway. I used Parasect to make her drowsy, and his false swipe made sure he didn’t deal too much damage.”

Torchic gasped, before sneezing a jet of flame that shot across the plaza and scorched the ground. Milo got Hounour’s Great Ball from his pocket and maximised it. Throwing it up into the air, Milo saw Jake and Gina watch the ball open and the brilliant blue light spill out. Houndour’s muscular frame began to form.

“You got a fire type too!” Jake said. “Is he friendly like Ruby?”

“Sure,” Milo said. Houndour was observing Torchic, who waddled under his legs and started nudging him. “Houndour loves company.”

“He looks kind of aggressive,” Gina said, taking a sip of her soda.

“His appearance is deceiving,” Milo explained. “I think the team get on with him okay…”

Torchic started pecking Houndour’s back leg, and Milo saw the dog show a very noble level of resistance to the young chick’s ways. Inquiring further, Torchic flapped up onto Houndour’s back, inspecting his body.

“I think they’re making friends!” Jake said, though he said it nervously. Milo had a horrible vision of Houndour deciding Torchic would make an excellent meal. As Torchic started clambering onto the hound’s neck, Houndour gave a casual flick of his head, throwing the chick to the ground.

The three watched, transfixed, as Torchic lay at an odd angle. But as she picked herself up, she simply waddled over to the water feature, examining it with her beak and seemingly forgetting about Houndour. Houndour walked to Milo’s side and curled up.

“Torchic!” Jake cried, waving some of his sushi around. “Come and try some food!”

Milo scratched Houndour behind his ear and ate his food. The conversation between Milo and Jake flowed freely; they discussed coordinating and appeals, Jake was particularly happy with Magneton’s flawless appeal. They couldn’t decide how to use Houndour - Milo thought he was suited for battling, but Jake felt he would have potential as an appeal Pokemon.

“What do you think, Gina?” Milo said.

“I dunno,” she said flatly. “I’m more concerned about my own training.”

“You’re entering the contest, right?” Milo said, and she nodded. “It’ll be interesting to see how you’ve grown since Goldenrod.”

“Maybe I haven’t,” she snapped. “Maybe it’s not been easy for me Milo!”

“Sorry,” Milo said, pulling a face. Gina stood up, throwing some money onto the table.

“That’s for lunch,” she said, holding her head high and storming off. Milo looked at Jake, who was exasperated but not surprised.

“She’s been in a weird mood lately,” he said. “Gina hasn’t really been taking very good care of herself, working at that lap dancing club. I don’t think she trains her Pokemon much. Ever since she got eliminated in the Goldenrod Contest, her whole life has changed.”

“Well I have no sympathy,” Milo said. “We didn’t have much money for a while, and we made ends meet. And you have a duty as a trainer to look after your Pokemon. Gina should know that.”

Jake recalled Torchic, deciding to give her some rest, and chose to send Wingull out. Milo was surprised to see a change in the gull’s appearance; he was larger, with his wings slightly broader. Falkner had explained to Jake that regular, good exercise in the air would help Wingull when he was ready to evolve.

“I’ve been thinking about Scyther,” Milo said. “I want to evolve him.”

“Really?” Jake said.

“He’s strong enough, he was amazing against Dior,” Milo said. “I don’t want Scyther to become really powerful and then evolve at a later stage; it will be confusing for him, and his body change will be more radical.”

“They need help, don’t they?” Jake said.

“A metal coat,” Milo said. “I had a look online, but they’re really rare. It’s an ionised ointment from a special type of metal. You have to rub the cream into the Pokemon’s skin, applying more and more over a period of time. It helps their body’s natural hormones adapt.”

“I wonder where you’ll get one?” Jake said.

“I thought about asking my dad,” Milo said. “But he hasn’t been answering his phone. I think he must be busy.”

“Do they sell them?”

“Not in stores,” Milo said. “I wonder how Oscar did it.”

Milo leaned back in his chair, thinking. Jake took this opportunity to try and discreetly eat a piece of squid, but the chewy fish slipped out his mouth and into his soda. He went bright red.

“Excuse me?” came a voice. Milo turned to see a very thin looking man sitting at the table behind them. “I couldn’t help but overhear your predicament.”

He was wearing spectacles and a white shirt, and was making notes at his table as he drank a cappuccino. He looked friendly, but was aging before his time; Milo saw his hair receding.

“I have a metal coat you are more than welcome to have,” he said.

“That’s kind,” Milo replied. “Can I assume it’s that straight forward?”

“No,” he replied, smirking. “But nice try. My name is Issac Elm, I’m a Pokemon professor.”

“I’m Milo, this is Jake,” Milo said.

“Lovely to meet you both,” Elm said. “I was wondering if you might be able to help me on a little project? I’m visiting the ruins just outside town, it’s for a research project. Would you mind assisting me?”

Milo and Jake shared a curious look.

*

In the end, they agreed; Milo was beginning to doubt his habit of engaging in good deeds, but joined Elm on his journey outside Violet City. He had been quite shrewd about the details, but it sounded like, for a few hours doing basic labour, Milo could get a priceless metal coat.

“We can trust him,” Milo said to Jake, as they walked through the valley. “He’s an academic, he knows what he’s talking about. He also has rubbish upper body strength, so even if he was a secret nutter I could overpower him.”

“Almost there!” Elm chirped. The afternoon was muggy; the air thick and unpleasant, but he carried on with ease.

The Ruins of Alph were just that – dilapidated ruins. A decade or so previously, the Johto council decided that the barren wasteland near Violet City should be turned into a locally-funded interactive museum, to help build interest in the history of the area. The caves featured puzzles, there were treasure hunts and guest lectures, and it soon drew a lot of holidaymakers in.

However, the areas around the Ruins were home to a number of psychic Pokemon, some of which were unhappy with their habitat being disturbed at all hours. Soon, visitors complained of headaches when they visited the ruins, but the problem was deemed a result of a particularly hot, dry summer, even when experts suggested the native Pokemon were inflicting headaches.

Weeks later, and people started having seizures when visiting certain chambers. Again, complaints were made, but the Johto Council, unwilling to tackle the problem head on, dispelled the rumours, and remained reluctant to shut the money-generating attraction.

Then, one day there was a cave-in at the ruins. Two people were killed when the cave they were exploring collapsed from the inside, and several more were treated for minor injuries. The Johto Council paid out large compensation packages to all involved, and had to close the attractions as a result. Accusations were made that the psychic Pokemon tore the chambers apart with their most intense psychic attacks as a chilling warning to those who dared to disturb them.

Milo felt uneasy walking around the quiet ruins; there were small cabins which once housed exhibitions and cinema screens which were now empty, stripped of life. Nearby, the collapsed cave seemed ominous.

“Now then,” the professor said, as they stood by a pile of rubble. He clapped his hands together, locking his fingers and smiling, “I’ve been picking up a curious radio signal which I’ve traced to here. It’s… an unusual one. Which is brilliant!”

“Is it?” Jake asked.

“I’ve kept a dark secret from you boys,” Elm said, clutching his face for a fraction of a second. “My profile as a scientist has dimmed – all these new Pokemon professors, you see, making wild proclamations! I couldn’t keep up, so I published a rather shaky study on the significance of Pokemon faeces.”

“Like… poo?” Jake said, pulling a sour expression.

“Face The Faeces: A Study Of Pokemon Entrails,” Elm said, sounding sad at his own words. “Critics panned it. My reputation lay in tatters, I can’t get funding for my research, and my wife is expecting our first child. I’m determined to find a scientific breakthrough!”

Milo gave Jake a wary look, wondering why the pair seemed destined to wind up with weirdos. Nevertheless, Milo released Magneton, suggesting he help them figure out where the signal was coming from.

“If it’s an electromagnetic signal, your Magneton will be able to help us find the source,” Elm said. Magneton throbbed for a moment, his eyes whirling around their sockets and trying to taste the waves on the air. Excitedly, he let off a noise and cartwheeled through the air.

Magneton took them to a cabin built into the side of a cave. The door was padlocked, and the windows since boarded up, but this didn’t seem a problem for Professor Elm, who kindly asked Magneton to deliver a sonicboom.

The burst of sound punctured the lock and dented the front door; Elm ran over and yanked it open, leading the boys into what looked like a research lab. Milo could see tables and computers overturned, papers littering the ground. A big whiteboard was smashed, and a rubix cube lay in pieces.

“This was one of the main research hubs when the Ruins were active,” Elm explained. “I studied here, sometimes. Hired to investigate the intricate carvings and odd behaviour in the area.”

“Why do so many psychic Pokemon live around here?” Milo asked. He remembered visiting here last year, shortly after defeating Keadis and winning his first badge. There were Natu, Girafarig and Abra lurking among the grass and the trees.

“Psychic Pokemon are, typically, physically weak,” Elm said. “They avoid confrontation. We think this area was so quiet and barren, devoid of traffic and people, that it became an excellent place for the psychic Pokemon to live. They could project mental images, distort the area, and keep people away.”

“Like the Stantler in Ilex Forest,” Jake said to Milo.

Magneton floated around the room, trying to find the source of the signal, and Elm began looking through the notes left behind. Jake sat with Milo, who ran a finger through the crust of dirt that formed on the surfaces.

“I wonder if Gina’s okay?” Jake said, shuffling his feet.

“She’ll be fine,” Milo muttered.

“The thing is,” Jake said. “If she loses, then she’ll spiral back into misery again. But I want you to win, too.”

“Everyone has to deal with loss in some form,” Milo said. “My first loss in coordinating was against Gina herself. I’m looking forward to the contest, I hope I can battle her.”

Milo saw Magneton from across the room, and remembered that he needed to train Houndour and Scyther.

*

An hour or so later, and Elm was still poring over notes. Bored by the investigation, Milo and Jake had started playing a game – see how many rude images they could etch into one of the tables.

After Milo spectacularly took Jake’s etching of a unicorn and made it into a three-headed penis, Jake kicked the desk in frustration. His kick brought a radio to life nearby; the device screamed with white noise and echoing yells, starling the three.

“What did you do!” Elm said as he ran over. Jake protested his innocence, but Elm clutched the radio with joy, fiddling with the dials. Magneton bobbed over to investigate.

“This signal is being disturbed by something, too,” Elm said. “I think there is something blocking, or maybe overriding the radio signal. It’s coming from the ruins…”

Magneton started emitting a low-frequency supersonic, and moved around the room slowly. Milo got up to investigate, since his Pokemon seemed to have some idea what was going on. Suddenly, as if everything fell in place quickly, Magneton charged up with a cloak of sparks, and swept right into a bookcase against the wall.

The bookcase splintered, but Magneton disappeared from view. Milo looked to see a cavern leading off – it seems the bookcase had been covering it up. With Elm’s help he moved the book case, and a set of steps wound down to darkness.

“Magneton, that was amazing!” Milo said. Elm explained that Magneton was emitting sound and identifying the area by judging how quickly the sound resonated back to him. Dolphins did a similar technique underwater, and it allowed him to realise there was hollow space behind the wall.

Elm led the way down the steps, but before they commenced, Jake released his Torchic and let her light torches that were fixed to the walls.

“Did the scientist create this tunnel, choosing to hide it from view?” Elm pondered. “Or was their building this cabin next to a pocket of mysterious energy a coincidence?”

“This part of the cave can’t have been open to the public, right?” Milo said.

“No,” Elm said. He sounded excited beyond measure. “This is secret.”

Once they reached the last step, the three looked around them, and saw they were in a small anti-chamber. Four thick pillars supported the walls, but there was no clear way of advancing from here. Elm began feeling the walls.

“I think this is just the beginning!” he said excitedly. “This is exciting, isn’t it!”

“Meh,” Milo said, thinking of the metal coat he could acquire. Torchic was headbutting the wall disinterestedly; Milo got the impression she was a rather stupid Pokemon.

“Magneton, do your supersonic trick again, see if you can find any secret spaces behind the walls,” said Milo. He got to work quickly.

They walked around the chamber, but it was bare and very quiet. Just as Milo began his third lap of the small area, Jake let out a cry. He was standing by one of the pillars, and seemed to have spotted something.

Milo and Elm walked over to see someone had scratched something into one the pillars. Elm bemoaned the disgraceful graffiti, which seemed to have been done in a rough, charcoal-like substance.

“What does it say?” asked Milo.

“I think it’s an equation,” Jake replied, touching it with his finger. “It’s new.”

Milo summoned Medicham by opening her Pokeball, and asked her to use her clairsentience to try and see what happened in here. She placed her hand on the pillar, and clutched her head as interpreted the memories on the surface of the pillar.

“Let me help,” Milo said, and Medicham clutched his hand tightly. Milo felt a hot, bubbling anger wash over him; something was wrong, something wasn’t working. He heard the thick, scratching of charcoal on stone… he could smell it…

“Any luck?” Jake asked, but Milo was too focused to reply.

A vivid bob of pink hair and an angry, older man – two people were etching into the walls and calling out too each other.

“Two people came here, and they left to get something,” Milo said. “They left to get something which will get them into the next chamber.”

He let go of Medicham’s grip, clutching his head. That image had been vivid, very clear, and his senses worked very independently instead of merging together in confusion. Milo predicted that meant the memory was very fresh.

Just then, a noise could be heard upstairs. Two people began to descend down the staircase.

“I think they’re back,” Elm said.

*

Nobody said a word. Even Magneton stopped inspecting the room as Milo, Jake and Elm heard voices at the top of the staircase.

“They smashed right through the bookcase!” came a girl’s cry. Milo thought he recognised it.

“Fucking bandits,” said the girl’s ally.

“They won’t have the light,” she said, and suddenly dropped her voice to a whisper. “They must be at the foot of the stairs.”

Milo looked across at Jake, who was clutching Torchic so tightly she looked ready to burst. Elm was pacing back and forward, so Milo held a hand out to him, asking him to be still.

He remembered the voices – the girl’s belonged to Candy, the pink-haired hippie who worked for The Friends of Pokemon. The other voice was the older man, Peaceful Smith. What were the hippies doing down here?

Silently, Milo ordered Magneton to lock-on to the foot of the stairs. As the seconds crept by, there was the sound of slow steps echoing off the walls. Medicham casually held her hands down and levitated off the ground, making no noise whatsoever.

Would they attack? Milo had to assume so; these activists were never up to any good, and they had met enough now to inspire pure hostility. It seemed like no time when Milo and Jake, as well as Oscar and Sylvester Stallong, managed to kill an entire flock of Farfetch’d.

“Any moment now,” Milo said, seeing shadows trickle down the steps…

Then it happened – Candy’s thick boot came into view and with it, the rest of her lanky frame. She saw the two boys and professor staring at her and gasped, pointing at them.

Peaceful Smith came into view, wearing an assortment of furs and camouflage. The two of them were frozen only for a moment, and Magneton blasted off a thick bolt of lightning right where they stood.

There was a scream and a bang; Candy was thrown off her feet and Peaceful let out a roar. A Voltorb span across the arena, scowling something serious. Medicham launched herself into the air, landing on the spot right in front of Voltorb and delivering a jump kick.

The red and white orb flew into the air, smashing into the wall of the chamber. He fizzed with sparks and fired them off in all directions, so Milo, Jake and Elm ducked behind differing pillars.

“Don’t use sonicboom,” Milo warned. “That thing will have Soundproof. Go for a mirror coat. Medicham, help out.”

As Voltorb blasted another bolt of electricity, Medicham twisted her wrist and used a psychic attack to send the attack speeding at Magneton. Shimmering with a reflective sheen, Magneton absorbed the relatively weak attack before unleashing a massive, retaliatory attack that glowed with a golden pulse.

“STOP IT!” Candy screamed, ordering another attack. Voltorb span wildly and threw himself at Medicham; she was caught off guard and fell to the ground, clutching her arm in agony.

“Get out of the way,” Peaceful Smith said, walking along the chamber. Magneton shot a web of sparks at him, and he jumped wildly to the left.

“What are you two doing here?” Milo barked, still hidden behind a pillar.

“None of your business!” Peaceful said. He walked up to Milo, but Medicham interjected; she threw her hand to the side, and Peaceful’s purposeful stride turned into a woozy stagger; he fell into the side of the wall.

“We’ll fight you off!” Jake said. Torchic cried her name and sneezed a long jet of flame across the room.

“Candy, get the light going!” Peaceful said. Candy nodded, and ordered an attack from Voltorb. He began to glow with a brilliant white light; it overtook his body as he throbbed. Milo couldn’t see what was happening, but heard a thick grunt of shifting stone.

“What’s going on!” Elm screamed. Milo felt someone push past him, still screwing his eyes shut from the intense light. Something had happened; something was moving, so he held his arms out to grope in the light. Nearby, Elm yelled out; Milo had lightly punched him.

Jake was the first to speak up as the light died down, “They made a passageway appear! They’re getting away!”

Milo could see thick stone shifting to reveal a narrow corridor beyond the chamber. However, as he turned, he also saw corridors forming from each wall. Jake ran after Candy and Peaceful, but just as he went, another thick, grinding noise filled the chamber.

“Where do all these passages lead?” Elm said, running to the East wall and staring down the thin gap. “This is incredible!”

“I don’t get how they open and close like doors,” Milo said. He turned to follow Jake, but saw the gap was beginning to close up. “NO!”

Milo ran over, but the gap was getting smaller and smaller – there was no way he could fit down there. Jake wasn’t visible beyond Milo’s line of sight. “Medicham, try and teleport to the other side.”

Medicham shook her head, folding her arms and leaning against a pillar. Milo cursed; teleporting without a visual aid could be lethal. Without knowing what the layout of the next chamber was, it would be foolish to leap into it.

“Elm!” Milo shouted. “How did they do that?”

“The bright light, it seems,” he said. Milo ordered Magneton to unleash a flash attack, hoping he could emulate what Voltorb did. When Medicham saw a vision of the chamber, the hippies went to get something… was it possible they knew they needed a Pokemon with flash?

Magneton brimmed with energy, containing it until he began to give off a strong, white glow. Suddenly, the chamber was ignited with a brilliant white light, and as Magneton powered it, Milo heard the familiar stone grinding. The chambers were opening again.

Once the gap was big enough for him to squeeze down, Milo recalled Medicham and Magneton, nipping down and running after Jake. Elm followed keenly.

The corridor was long and thin; Milo jogged at a steady pace, ensuring he got to the end before it closed up. Just beyond, there was a sliver of light; the next room of the ruins.

“I think I know what caused this,” Elm said from behind Milo. He diverted the boy’s attention to the walls of the corridor; thick, letter-like creatures were studded into the walls. Most were in the shape of an X, but others had slightly different shapes.

“These are the Unown,” Elm said. “And this is their home. Look at how they spin and turn together.”

Milo saw, and agreed – the small creatures were knotted together along the walls like a set of cogs in a machine. As one turned, its joints locked in with those of another, and the walls separated, allowing them more room.

“Historians think this is part of an ancient civilisation,” Elm said. “And when they aren’t disturbed by bright light, the Unown are normally docile, or asleep. Now, however, they are stuck in their position, and move the only way they know how.”

“Is it cruel?” Milo said, feeling sorry for the creatures.

“Unown’s existence is curious,” Elm admitted. “I don’t think… I don’t think they work like typical organisms. They don’t eat, they don’t breathe, yet they have conscious thought. It’s boggling.”

They reached the end of the corridor and the Unown began to turn, closing up the corridor. Milo briefly wondered how many souls had been trapped between those two walls before.

This new chamber was long, with a staircase at the end which lead to deeper depths. Milo saw no sign of Jake or the hippies – why hadn’t Jake decided to just wait for them at the other side?

“Where do you think those other corridors led to?” Elm asked, referring to the corridors coming off from the main chamber.

“Dunno,” Milo said. “Gold?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Elm snapped.

They walked along in silence, Elm sometimes walking to the walls and examining them. Milo wondered if this whole complex was fuelled by the Unown – the tired ones would awake with light, but were there others ahead?

He explained to Elm about the Friends of Pokemon – activists who had frequently clashed with Milo and Jake. Elm pointed out that if the pair tried to free the Unown, the very structure of the Ruins of Alph would collapse.

“We need to stop them,” Milo said.

“They sound so foolish, who would try and do such a thing?” asked Elm.

“If you took hallucinogens every day, you’d probably do the same,” Milo told him.

“Oh, but there isn’t anything wrong with hallucinogens!” Elm proclaimed. “Why, an elixir made from the deadened spores of a Vileplume has the most incredible effects. It helped me with a paper I wrote.”

“What was the paper on?” Milo asked.

“I was presenting my findings on recreational drugs from organic compounds – in this case, Pokemon.”

“Did it go well?”

“No, I was sick on a senior lecturer, tore off my clothes and urinated on the podium,” Elm admitted. “Still, it sort of proved my point.”

“Fucking science,” Milo said.

By this point, they had reached the foot of the stairs and were now facing a wall. Milo saw, again, that something had been scratched into a column, and examined it straight away.

This time, however, it seemed someone had used charcoal to cover up something on the pillar. Milo wiped the charcoal away and saw a small inscription.

HTWOO

“Sounds like an owl sneezing backwards,” Milo mused.

“No it doesn’t,” Elm snapped. “It’s obviously a code.”

“You’re obviously a complete bellend,” Milo retorted, folding his arms. Elm ignored him and traced his fingers across the letters.

“Those hippies, who do they think they are, desecrating the chambers like this?” Elm muttered.

“They obviously don’t want us following them,” Milo said. What could HTWOO possibly mean? He thought about it for a moment, wishing he could get the internet on his phone and Google the answer.

“I don’t think they’ve done a very good job inscribing this,” Elm said. “The final letter is a bit wonky.”

Milo inspected it.

“It looks less like an O and more like a zero,” he said. “HTWOZERO?”

“It’s H20!” Elm cried. “Water! We need water to get to the next chamber!”

He rustled around in his bag and produced a small carton of orange juice. Elm popped the straw in the top and blasted a weak stream of juice at the pillar, trying to douse it.

“Damn!” he wailed. “It didn’t work! If only we had a bottle of water!”

“You idiot,” Milo said, making sure to shove him with some force. “Croconaw!”

Bursting from the Pokeball was Milo’s trusty Croconaw; he flexed his arms and clapped his hands at emerging in the dim chamber. Elm stepped back, deciding he didn’t like the look of the alligator.

“Blast a water gun at the pillar mate,” Milo said. Croconaw nodded, firing off a foamy jet against the inscribed pillar. However, there was no grinding of stone, no sudden burst of understanding.

Milo had Croconaw run around the chamber spraying water – an opportunity he seemed to relish – and eventually, the corner of the chamber creaked as it was doused. Elm gasped as a rotating part of the wall revealed a tight, twisted staircase made from stone.

“Brilliant!” Milo said, running along with his Pokemon. Elm followed keenly.

The staircase was cold; a wind rushed past them. Elm speculated that the cold water woke the Unown up in a similar way to the blast of bright light.

However, as the two got further down the stairs, they heard loud noises. Bangs, screams and yells, as well as the roaring of Pokemon. Something was going on beneath them.

With each step, Milo thought he was about to arrive at the scene, but the spiral stairs were very long indeed. Eventually, they levelled out, and Milo saw a scene of chaos before him.

Jake was fighting three hippies – Candy and Peaceful, and a young boy with wild, spiked hair. He had several facial piercings and commanded a Charmeleon. Candy had released a Cacturne, while Peaceful used the Voltorb from before.

“Pellipper!” Jake cried. Milo looked to see a large pelican soaring across the high ceiling of the chamber – Jake’s Wingull must have evolved during the fray. “Water gun!”

Screeching, Pellipper blasted a jet of water that Charmeleon avoided. Jake was also commanding two Parasect – one obviously being his Ditto in disguise. Milo saw him fighting with fierce determination, sweat slicked across his forehead. He looked oddly calm.

“We’re here, Jake!” Milo cried. Jake didn’t turn around – he was too busy. Cacturne leapt high and slammed a spiked arm into Pellipper’s side, sending the bird to the ground.

“Stun seed!” Jake told Parasect. Coating his seeds into deadly spores, Parasect fired off the exploding pellets. Voltorb span out of the way, firing off a bolt of lightning at the boy’s general direction.

“Recall Ditto,” Milo said. “Croconaw, hit Charmeleon with an aqua tail.”

Croconaw nodded, bounding along the arena on all fours. As he leapt into the air, he span around and unleashed a thick blade of energy from his tail. It smashed itno Charmeleon and burst into foamy, ice cold water. Charmeleon fell into the wall.

Cacturne ran for Pellipper, but Parasect intervened; he slashed the cactus’s legs before headbutting him into the ground. Voltorb raced across the arena at Croconaw, but instead of trying to avoid him, Croconaw beckoned him with a clawed finger.

“Thundershock!” Candy cried. Milo watched as Croconaw took the attack, clenching his muscles and grimacing. As he leapt along, he swung his tail and smashed the ball Pokemon across the arena.

“Spike!” Candy said to the young boy. “What’s the latest?”

Spike was about to reply to his comrade, but dived to avoid a barrage of sharp pins. Pellipper had blasted an impressive whirlwind to blow back Cacturne’s pin missile, causing them to rain back down on the hippies.

“The final chamber – I don’t know how to get in,” Spike said.

“Well what the fuck have you been doing!” Peaceful barked, as he ordered Spike’s Charmeleon to fire a flamethrower at Parasect.

“Didn’t they leave an inscription this time?” Candy asked.

“No!”

“What are they on about?” Milo said.

“I don’t know,” Jake said. Pellipper skimmed the walls of the chamber, gliding through the air and unleashing a water pulse. Voltorb was struck, encased in the orb of sparkling water, unable to move.

“That’s amazing,” Milo said to Jake, watching as the water pulse burst, sending Voltorb crashing to the ground. Jake’s skills as a trainer were really improving.

“I don’t think these hippies have been doing the damage,” Elm said. The situation was wild; six Pokemon duked it out in the middle of the chamber, while the hippies tried to converse in hushed voices on the other side.

“Spike was sent here to do some work,” Jake said. “And he got stuck. That’s why Candy and Peaceful came here, but they kept having to leave the ruins to get the things required – they captured a Voltorb, they captured a Poliwhirl.”

“What are they trying to do? Free Unown?” Milo asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jake replied.

“PEACEFUL!” Milo shouted, pulling out Medicham’s Pokeball. “Stop what you’re doing and face us like a man.”

“Fuck off!” Peaceful said, ordering more attacks. “You’re not going to fuck up what we’re trying to do here! Go away!”

“No!” Milo said. Medicham appeared at his side and together, they ran at the three hippies. Cacturne saw this and attempted to intervene, running along the arena and pulling a grim face.

Medicham leapt up and dealt a karate chop; she hit Cacturne in the neck, blocking his needle arm and rolling under his legs. Summoning a fire punch, she grabbed him by the neck, throwing him into the wall.

With a pop she was back at Milo’s side, running towards the hippies. Voltorb span towards them, crackling with sparks, but Parasect fired off an energy ball at him; the green orb exploded, throwing Voltorb across the room.

Charmeleon was too busy fending off Pellipper’s sky-diving to stop Milo. Medicham held a hand out, pinning Spike against the wall. Milo grabbed Peaceful Smith by the front of his shirt, slamming him into the wall.

“DON’T DO IT,” he shouted. “Free these Unown, and the whole chamber will fucking collapse!”

“Free them?” Peaceful said, pulling a sour face as he lay within Milo’s grip.

“I won’t let you fuck this up, I’ll beat you unconscious if I have to,” Milo said.

“We’re not trying to release them,” Peaceful snapped.

“What?” Milo was confused; why was Peaceful denying it?

“When did we ever say we were going to let these Pokemon out the ruins? This is their home; we’re trying to protect the Unown from something else,” said Peaceful.

“Something else?” Jake asked, as Voltorb flew into his stomach, knocking him to the ground.

“But…the inscriptions,” Elm said, from the corner of the room. Croconaw was punched in the jaw by Charmeleon and fell to the ground, but as the foe leapt at him, he fired a jet of water and blasted him into the ceiling.

“We have been trying to track down a pair of thieves,” Candy explained. “We overheard them on the outskirts of the city last night, plotting to steal three Unown. So we pulled away from our people to tackle the problem.”

“We kept finding inscriptions etched into the columns,” Spike said. “These people obviously had help from an expert. They knew that a bright light would open the second chamber, and that ice-cold water would open the next.”

“But we realised that they might bring reinforcements, so as we went through the chambers, we tried covering up the clues they left,” Candi replied.

“So you’re going after someone… and they’re beyond this wall?” Jake said.

“Yes. Now please, leave us alone,” Peaceful said. Milo dropped his grip and muttered an apology.

“We can help!” Jake said, as Pellipper perched on his arm. Parasect leapt to his side, too.

“Please,” Elm said. “It’s imperative we stop people taking Unown from this chamber!”

There was a heavy boom from somewhere beneath the group. Milo saw the pillars shake and a crumbling powder flutter down from above them. Something was going on. He looked at Elm, who was wringing his hands together anxiously.

“We don’t know how to get into the next chamber,” Peaceful admitted. “Spike was investigating, but it’s trickier than the other ones.”

Candy confirmed there were no inscriptions on the walls; they had searched for a long time and found no clues or messages that would help them. Elm, without saying a word, began wandering the perimeter of the room.

The group said nothing for a short time; Milo thanked Croconaw and Medicham for their work, while Jake heaped praise on his new Pellipper, who had a deep, croaky voice. Parasect scuttled over to shake hands (wings?) with the bird.

“Peaceful,” Elm said. “Have you perhaps noticed that this chamber is made from a different stone than the others?”

“No,” Peaceful said quickly. “I did not.”

“The Eastern wall, at any rate, is made from sandstone,” Elm said. “Or, at least, the surface is sandstone.”

“How does that help us?” Milo asked.

“Sandstone contains silica,” Elm said. “A compound which is found in most sands. When struck by lightning, silica melts and the sand fuses into a glass-like compound. Quartz.”

“Geek,” Jake murmured.

Milo didn’t need prompted; he recalled Croconaw and released Magneton once more. Elm explained that Magneton would need to unleash a powerful blast of lightning with enough heat to have an impact on the sandstone. Magneton began charging energy.

“Keep him charging, again and again, until he can barely keep it in,” Elm said. “Then make him lock-on otherwise it could fly everywhere.”

Nobody said a word as Magneton glowed brighter and brighter. Sparks fizzed along the contours of his body, the smaller ones shooting off into brief crackles. Milo wasn’t sure what Elm wanted to happen once the sandstone formed into quartz, but knew he had a plan.

As Magneton built up energy, he started throbbing. On Elm’s suggestion, Milo also released Houndour; he would release a blast of fire at the same time, helping to catalyse the chemical reaction. Houndour was swirling fire around his gums, staring intently at the wall.

“On my count,” Elm said, his voice rapt. “Three… two…

“One…

“NOW!”

Noise and light flooded the chamber. A bolt of lightning swept through the air, hissing as sparks flew off in all directions. Magneton’s attack was shrouded in a brilliant golden light, and as it slammed into the wall, Houndour unleashed a roaring jet of fire.

Milo had to screw his eyes shut – the light was too bright. Elm was cheering as Magneton and Houndour continued to force their electricity and fire into the wall. The surface was almost bubbling with white-hot energy.

“IT’S WORKING!” Elm roared.

Milo saw Magneton exert one final push, sending sparks fizzling along the wall. Houndour ceased his fiery assault, and Milo stared at the wall.

The sand had indeed melded into quartz, and what was once a sandstone wall had fused into a transparent, crystalline web. Milo saw it sparkle and shimmer; there was a flaming torch in an area just behind the wall.

Elm pressed his hands against the quartz and peered beyond its milky veil.

“Something’s beyond here,” he said. “This is where we go.”

Milo nodded, recalling both Magneton and Houndour. Jake, noticing Milo’s action, did the same, returning his Pokemon into their Pokeballs. Medicham, having picked up Milo’s thought process, flexed her muscles and smirked.

“No need for fancy tricks,” Milo told the group. “Medicham, brick break.”

She smiled, arching her arm back before racing across the chamber. In a quick swipe, Medicham delivered a shattering blow to the thick quartz, causing thick cracks to snake into the wall. After two more strikes, the quartz shattered, creating an opening.

“Well done Milo!” Elm said, as the boy instinctively clambered into the next chamber. Peaceful Smith, perhaps feeling neglected or of ill use, barged past Jake and climbed after Milo.

This chamber was dark, lit with dim torches. Milo’s trainers crunched the shards of quartz littering the floor, and he could see an opening just ahead. Peaceful Smith’s odour of thick tobacco and sweat filled the area.

“Come on!” Milo said, leading the way. He saw a bright light, evidently leading to the next room. They must be close now, surely? Milo thought about the people stealing Unown – what could be gained from it? How many were there?

“What do you know –“

Milo was cut short when a dizzying screech filled his ears. Turning around, he saw the hole Medicham created glowing a bright white. Elm, Jake, Candy and Spike gasped from the other side of the hole as it began to close up, crystalline fibres whizzing across like an intricate spider’s web.

“It’s closing!” Peaceful cried. “CANDY!”

Milo ran over and hammered against the fully-repaired quartz wall, the people on the other side frosted and veiled. Elm’s mumbling was seemingly an explanation at the phenomenon, but Milo couldn’t decipher his words.

“Medicham, break it,” Milo said, but Peaceful stopped him.

“We need to go on; they can shatter it and follow us,” he explained. “Please, Milo, we are very late.”

And so they walked on, breaking into a jog, running down the dark corridor. Medicham followed obediently. Peaceful didn’t say much, but explained that if the Unown were prised from the walls, or captured into Pokeballs, they would cause the ruins to collapse. Milo had seen the Unown work like cogs in this, a brilliant machine. It would be disastrous if even one were taken.

As they got nearer to the light, however, Milo began to feel light headed. Something was overcoming him – it was pure joy. He smiled as the light, getting nearer but still far away, took the form of something slender, something beautiful.

The world within the ruins didn’t exist. Milo blinked in quick succession to see Luna Fuerte smiling at him – the two were on top of the most magnificent tower imaginable. Milo folded his arms together; it was chilly here, where a sharp breeze blew. A thick knitted jumper wrapped around him, as if on cue.

“Why did you bring us here?” Luna asked. Milo looked at her, dumbfounded. Her black hair was so shiny and looked soft to the touch; her eyes sparkled with a vivid energy that took his breath away, and her scent… a refreshing something he could not even articulate.

“I… don’t know,” Milo said. On the parapet of the large tower, the pair stared across a vast city beneath them. It was one Milo didn’t recognise, but they were so high that wisps of cloud ambled in the air beneath them.

“I thought I was…”

“You’re here, and that’s what matters,” Luna said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Milo nodded, understanding. He placed a hand on her hip and led her, waltz-like, across the top of the magnificent tower.

Sometimes, they said nothing, and danced as the evening set in. Time didn’t seem to move in a normal way; instead, Milo savoured each moment, choosing to keep it, to reanimate it, until he yearned for the next beautiful part. The beating of Luna’s heart against his own… this was real.

“Why do we only find each other in our dreams?” Luna asked, her head against Milo’s chest.

“I… I thought you were a manifestation of my…”

“Maybe I am,” Luna said. “But… maybe you’re asleep right now, too, at the same time I am. Maybe we’re synchronised.”

“I don’t always dream of you,” Milo admitted, fearful in case it soured the wonderful ambience.

“Nor I, you,” Luna said. “Sometimes, though, it makes so much sense. Like two planets finally lining up, if only briefly.”

Milo knew exactly how she felt.

“And I yearn for sleep to come,” she admitted. “Maybe then, you’ll be there. And you will dance with me.”

“I want to see you, outside of this,” Milo said. “In the real world.”

“But Milo,” Luna said, pulling apart from his grasp and studying him. “Just because we are not conscious, why should it mean none of this is real?”

Hurtled through thought itself, Milo found screams flooding his senses. Their sharp, forced notes drowned the tower he stood on with Luna, and he felt crumbling sandstone across his face.

“MILO!”

Jake was shaking him, and Milo realised he was soaking wet. Pellipper had doused him. He was in the dim corridor, on the floor, and Jake was screaming as thick chunks of rock thudded down from the ceiling.

“The ruins are collapsing!” Elm yelled, as Candy tried to rouse Peaceful Smith.

“Wh-what happened?” Milo said, dusting himself off. They were in the dim corridor before the source of the bright light. Jake grabbed Milo’s hand and led him on, and behind him, Spike and Candy got Peaceful to his feet.

“We found you both unconscious,” Jake said, not looking back. Medicham was erecting force fields to protect them from falling debris, while Pellipper flew ahead.

“I was on a tower,” Milo said.

“You were dreaming.”

“No! I was there, it was real!” Milo explained. Jake said nothing. Was Luna still standing on the tower, would she be waiting for him when he slept tonight? Milo couldn’t understand what was going on.

“The Unown have been disturbed, this whole place is going to fall apart!” Candy screamed. The six broke through the source of light and emerged in the next room, where a column had fallen and the ceiling was bulging ominously.

Medicham held a finger to her temple, and ran to the center of the room. Completely invisible was something that she could indeed see; she felt at the ground, her hands moving higher and higher.

“A staircase,” said Spike, nodding. Medicham ran up the steps, though in actuality it looked like she was ascending of her own accord. Milo saw the ceiling; surely Medicham would have nowhere to go?

But as she got to the top, her body melded into the ceiling, and Milo understood that the ceiling itself was an illusion. Jake followed her, beckoning Milo, and Elm came after. The hippies followed with trepidation, exploring the unseeable steps with their hands.

Through the ceiling – and a curiously warm, sensual feeling – and Milo found himself in a small trailer. It looked like the one which they used to get into the ruins, but it was full of far more hi-tech equipment. Medicham was already at the door.

Once Elm got here, he excitedly looked around the room, but Jake was staring out the window, where rubble, clouds of dust and unrest filled the area around them. Elm explained they were in a higher peak of the ruins, slightly off the beaten track, quite close to the path towards the National Park.

Once they felt the room was, in fact, sanctuary, the group relaxed. Candy and Spike were keen to chase after the thieves, and left in an instant. Peaceful, like Milo, seemed content with being perfectly still, thinking.

Jake and Elm were discussing the Unown; Jake seemed suddenly very fiery, very determined to learn everything. Using documents in this research room, Elm began explaining some of his theories about the Unown’s history. When they were being stolen, he said, they used their telepathy to invoke a dream-like bliss in intruders, which was why Milo and Peaceful were struck.

“Did the thieves get hit by it, too?” Jake asked.

“I think not,” Elm said. “They escaped.”

Milo looked across at Peaceful Smith, who was staring at the window with apparent awe.

“What did you see,” Milo said softly.

“My daughter,” Peaceful replied. “Alive and well.”

*

At the intersection on Route 36, a man sat crossed-legged, watching the thick dust clouds unfurl from the ruins. It was late afternoon, and a Nidoran was pawing the ground, trying to unearth a thick, nutritious root.

Seeing two figures walk along the route towards him, Chuck got up and prepared to greet them. Oscar and Falkner looked messy, both covered in dust and other mess.

“This was your doing?” Chuck said, pointing beyond Oscar to the swirling, ominous cloud.

“As was this,” Oscar replied, handing Chuck a Pokeball.

“You did it?”

“Barely.”

“I didn’t expect the ruins to collapse,” Chuck admitted.

“We barely got out alive,” Oscar said. “Worse still, we were pursued by Milo Mitchelson and others.”

Chuck gasped, “They saw you?”

“Falkner cleverly used the Unown’s natural gift,” Oscar replied, smiling. Falkner looked slightly uncomfortable at the praise. “Stopped Milo in his tracks, sent him into spiralling euphoria.”

“Look, I…”

“Falkner is uneasy about turning on his friend,” Oscar admitted. “But I explained, didn’t I, how detrimental it would be to get anyone – even friends – involved in our work.”

“You did,” Falkner replied.

“Thank you for your help,” Chuck said to Falkner, nodding.

“Unown possess an incredible level of telepathy,” Oscar explained to the other two. “Far, far beyond the telepathy performed by strong psychic Pokemon. Their bodies are comprised of memory cells that help them communicate with each other. Unown who are exposed to others in their conscious state – like the three we just stole – will be able to transmit thought to each other no matter where in the world they are.”

“So you wanted to use them like communication devices,” Falkner said.

“Correct,” Oscar replied. “Wherever the three of us are, as long as we have our Unown with us, we can link up to one another without interference.”

“Why can’t it be interfered with by other psychic Pokemon?” Falkner asked.

“Because it isn’t technically telepathy,” Oscar explained. “It’s… something entirely different.”

“Scholars once argued Unown weren’t even to be qualified as Pokemon,” Chuck told the boy. “They exist purely to communicate with each other. They can transmit thought using a telepathy-based form of electromagnetic waves. They hate being outside, they hate being disturbed – hence the chaos at the Ruins when you captured three.”

Oscar nodded.

“Falkner, you’ll be coming with me to Goldenrod City,” Chuck continued. “We’re going to learn a bit about Steven Stone’s empire. We need to identify how best to bring it down.”

“What about Oscar?” Falkner asked.

“Oscar has to finish up some… research in Violet City,” Chuck said. Falkner bid goodbye to Oscar and carried on along the path to the National Park. Chuck, on the pretence of having a quick word with Oscar, dropped his tone.

“Listen here,” he began, but Oscar interjected.

“No, you listen,” he snapped. “If I want to hurt Milo Mitchelson, then I will. Don’t put on a pretence that you’ll intervene – you haven’t got the guts to try and hurt me.”

Oscar smiled.

“You’ve been scared of me ever since you heard I killed Eli,” Oscar said. “Didn’t think I had murder in me, did you?”

“I wish you didn’t,” Chuck replied.

“Well I do,” Oscar snapped. “And don’t forget it.”

Chuck nodded, making his excuses and running after Falkner. Oscar swelled with pride at putting the stupid man in his place; he was capable of great things, and Chuck needed to fear him just a little bit. Oscar stared at Violet City beneath him, before running along the path to go and find Milo.



Next Chapter
It's time for the Violet City contest, and Milo is determined to get his fourth ribbon. Gina reveals her competitive side as she is joined by her new 'lifestyle coach', while Milo and Jake are shocked to see Denise Dwight and her daughter Tamara have entered the contest in a desperate bid to get a ribbon. But Denise has more tricks up her sleeve...

Meanwhile, Oscar mounts a plan of action that may seriously endanger everyones lives...




Notes
-I haven't written a chapter this quickly for a while. I think it's actually a very long chapter, but when I was proofing it, it went kind of fast, so I don't think you notice how big it is.

-In the original draft of the fic, planned years back, Milo was going to capture a unique Unown that could shift forms between the different shapes. He would later sell it for a small fortune.

-It was cool being able to write about The Ruins of Alph. I think during cash-strapped times, it made a lot of sense for the council to try and turn the crumbling wreck into a tourist attraction.

-As for the hippies, well, I'm a sucker for bringing them back. It was nice they were trying to be the good guys, but a shame they didn't save the day.

-I wonder if Candy will try and pursue Oscar?

-As for their scheme, it seems Oscar's making sure his phone calls can't be traced. You'll see what Falkner and Chuck get up to in a future chapter.

-I'm really looking forward to the contest - it's the culmination of the whole Violet/Cherrygrove arc, and Denise Dwight is back with a very clever plan.

-The new, 2/3 part arc will start soon. It's about Eusine.




Thanks guys!

[Sike Saner]

That was quite an interesting take on the unown and the Ruins of Alph there in that chapter.

“A metal coat,” Milo said. “I had a look online, but they’re really rare. It’s an ionised ointment from a special type of metal. You have to rub the cream into the Pokemon’s skin, applying more and more over a period of time. It helps their body’s natural hormones adapt.”

Interesting description of metal coat.

Milo leaned back in his chair, thinking. Jake took this opportunity to try and discreetly eat a piece of squid, but the chewy fish slipped out his mouth and into his soda. He went bright red.

Pfff oh dear. XD

However, the areas around the Ruins were home to a number of psychic Pokemon, some of which were unhappy with their habitat being disturbed at all hours. Soon, visitors complained of headaches when they visited the ruins, but the problem was deemed a result of a particularly hot, dry summer, even when experts suggested the native Pokemon were inflicting headaches.

Weeks later, and people started having seizures when visiting certain chambers. Again, complaints were made, but the Johto Council, unwilling to tackle the problem head on, dispelled the rumours, and remained reluctant to shut the money-generating attraction.

Then, one day there was a cave-in at the ruins. Two people were killed when the cave they were exploring collapsed from the inside, and several more were treated for minor injuries. The Johto Council paid out large compensation packages to all involved, and had to close the attractions as a result. Accusations were made that the psychic Pokemon tore the chambers apart with their most intense psychic attacks as a chilling warning to those who dared to disturb them.

Damn. Unhappy with their habitat being disturbed, indeed.

An hour or so later, and Elm was still poring over notes. Bored by the investigation, Milo and Jake had started playing a game – see how many rude images they could etch into one of the tables.

After Milo spectacularly took Jake’s etching of a unicorn and made it into a three-headed penis, Jake kicked the desk in frustration.

... XD

“Oh, but there isn’t anything wrong with hallucinogens!” Elm proclaimed. “Why, an elixir made from the deadened spores of a Vileplume has the most incredible effects. It helped me with a paper I wrote.”

“What was the paper on?” Milo asked.

“I was presenting my findings on recreational drugs from organic compounds – in this case, Pokemon.”

“Did it go well?”

“No, I was sick on a senior lecturer, tore off my clothes and urinated on the podium,” Elm admitted.

...Lovely. O~o;

[Chris 2.1]

Another update! So to explain, I had initially planned a couple of arcs like the Golden Arc that would take place later on in the fic.

The first was going to be a 3-part arc involving Oscar, but he wound up appearing in some of the Violet and Ecruteak chapters anyway. And now he's in prison, there's little sense in that now *coughs indiscreetly*

Anyway the other arc was going to be on Eusine, who appeared in the Golden Arc, but given the next couple of chapters that seemed hard to do.

Instead I have written a little short piece which gives some background and insight into the next chapter.

And there will be more from Mr Mitchelson et al soon as the fic begins to reach its climax...

Show-Off
-?-
Across The Sea

Eighteen Months Ago

On a crisp, autumnal afternoon, the beach a few miles from Olivine City was picturesque. While there was a chill in the air, and the water far too icy to dip toes in, the sharpness in the weather added to the foggy day. In the distance, the island of Cianwood could be seen, while the lighthouse threw a thick beam of light across the ocean.

Pulling on a pair of silk gloves, Eusine Grimm tightened his scarf and leapt from the path onto the beach. His handsome leather boots sank into the sand somewhat, and he leaned down to inspect a distinct imprint before him. Small paws, rounded at the ends. Impressions not very deep. While he didn't have a Pokemon with the ability to read surface memories, he felt confident in his assertion that the prints belonged to thing he sought most. The fog was becoming thicker – an onset of winter, or the creature itself?

He walked close to the water's edge, to better disguise his own traces of being here; he turned and saw his boot marks dissolve into each fresh lap of the foaming, salty sea. And he continued east, keeping his senses sharp. Smelling the air, listening for the slightest muffle.

It was an opportune place to hide, with the gentle crash of the waves hiding noise. It also made it hard for Eusine to concentrate, as he began to drift off the further he got from the bustling port town of Olivine.

As the fog began to grow thicker, winding tightly around his ankles and making it hard for him to see, he pulled a Pokeball from his belt and summoned his Weezing. Though the creature was renowned for its odour – a sour, sweat-like scent – the purple Pokemon had learned to control what toxins it released out of respect to its trainer, and Eusine found Weezing more easier to be around because of it.

“Use a clear smog,” Eusine said in his high voice. Weezing furrowed its brow and started siphoning away the fog surrounding them, causing the view ahead to become sharper. The prints in the sand showed the creature had ran up a sandy bank, and as the bank revealed itself to Eusine, he followed in a brisk jog.

His heart began beating faster as he neared the top of the bank; would Suicune be there, waiting for him? It was often said the creature liked to purify dirty water, allowing itto run across its surface to new places. It seemed obvious he would be here, standing proudly.

Would he remember Eusine? Twice before Eusine had successfully engaged the creature in a battle but it was a highly intelligent species, and was able to overpower him with clever manipulation of his surroundings. Eusine recalled fighting him with his Hypno, only for Suicune to use a combination of fog and ice to create a wall of mirrors to help him escape. Since then, he had acquired a new Pokemon which would, in theory, help tackle the creature's strategy.

As he got over the top of the bank, he stared ahead and gasped. He hadn't really believed it would happen, but right ahead was Suicune, standing perfectly still, his thick, fluffed mane bunched behind him, flapping softly. Mist curled around his feet, and purple ribbons peeled off from him. The large crystal horn atop his head shimmered softly; a rippled, diamond surface.

“My goodness,” Eusine said softly, his hand touching his mouth. Slowly, he reached for a Pokeball, worried Suicune would run. He did not. He watched Eusine maximise the Pokeball and prepare to summon a creature. He seemed ready for a fight.

“Xatu!” Eusine murmured, opening the ball. Forming in the sand before him was his newest capture, the mystical bird. Like Suicune, Xatu was a still creature, staring ahead, transfixed in her own thoughts. The birds could simultaneously explore the past and the future, giving them an often foggy expression, but after much training, they were able to naturally focus on the present.

“Go! Use a night shade!” Eusine said. Nodding, Xatu unleashed a jagged bolt of compressed shadow. It whooshed at Suicune, who planted his feet deep in the ground and summoned a thick cloud of fog to engulf him. The night shade pierced the fog and there was a bang, but Suicune used the fog to evade, and re-appeared further along the beach. Eusine turned, worried the dog would leave, but he raced along the arena, with fog trailing behind him like smoke from a firework.

“Teleport!” Eusine ordered. Turning on the spot, Xatu popped into nothing, re-emerging behind Suicune and letting off a thunder wave on her trainer's command. The tendrils of sparks smashed into Suicune, but he did not roar in pain, cry or otherwise indicate he was hurt. He staggered slightly, but snarled and evaded another attack.

Eusine thought he was battling very differently – was he tired or injured from a previous encounter? He seemed reluctant to fight Xatu, despite the fact he could probably do quite well. Xatu had been captured for his powerful wings and thunder wave, which would be very handy for subduing any Pokemon trying to escape.

“Hold him in place with psychic!” Eusine said, fiddling around in his bag for a Pokeball. If Suicune was indeed hurt, capturing him would be quite straightforward. Xatu's eyes glowed, and he attempted to hold the canine in place, but as she focused, the bird was overcome and began screeching loudly.

“Xatu?” Eusine said, concerned. Wrapping her wings around her torso, Xatu gave another cry and was thrown backwards by an invisible force. She slammed into the sand as Eusine looked at Suicune. What had happened?

The creature was becoming blurred beneath a veil of fog, and a panicked Eusine hurled the Pokeball into the direction of Suicune in a last-ditch attempt to catch him. The ball was swallowed by the fog and capaulted back out, smacking Eusine in the head and causing him to fall back. He saw the fog grow, and suddenly a pair of legs emerged, followed by a torso, and the head of a human.

It didn't make sense. Eusine got to his feet as the boy, who was about five years younger than him, swept his hair back and held a hand out to him. Eusine shook it gingerly, noticing two more shapes emerge from the fog.

“Hi Eusine,” he said warmly. “My name is William Mitchelson.”

“Where's Suicune?” Eusine asked.

“It was an illusion,” he said simply, as an Alakazam and Medicham emerged from the fog as it began to dissapear into the atmosphere. “I have been wanting to talk to you, so I had my psychic Pokemon create an illusion of Suicune to draw you here. They're rather clever, aren't they?”

“So that wasn't even the real thing?” Eusine said slowly.

“I'm afraid not,” William replied.

“But I saw his footprints, the mist! He was running, looking, sniffing.”

“All these guys,” William said, jerking his thumb behind him. “Alakazam can use his PSI on all the senses. You could have touched 'Suicune' if you had got close enough.”

“It's a shame I didn't,” Eusine said.

“Well, I do have some good news,” William said. “I think I know where Suicune is.”

“You do?”

“Yup. Which is why I wanted to speak to you,” William said. “I work for my father, Michael, and we're trying to locate the legendary beasts of Johto so we can protect them. Unfortunately, we've received a pretty good tip-off that an organisation is trying to catch the three Pokemon and we don't trust that they're doing it with anything but their own interests at heart.”

“What would they do with them?” Eusine asked.

“Kill them? Sell them? Maybe breed them,” William mused. “It's not clear. But almost a century ago, a group of activists sought to protect these and many other rare creatures by denying the world their existence. Raikou, Suicune and Entei and all believed by the general public to have died many many years ago.”

Eusine nodded; most people, including his own mother, didn't believe Suicune existed, and mocked his attempts to locate the beast.

“We want to keep that rumour in place, while catching the Pokemon to take them out of harm's way,” William went on. “Rest assured, we want what's best for them.”

“Me too,” Eusine replied.

“So here's the thing,” William said. “The Pokemon League is going through a bit of a... redesign. They're calling it a Reclassification, I think. And as part of that reclassification, we'd like you to take over the Gym in Cianwood city.”

“Gym?” Eusine said. “I... I don't think I'm qualified to run a Pokemon Gym, William.”

“Trust me, you're capable,” William replied. “And don't worry about the type thing... that's going to be ditched, apparently. You'll be running a gym based on illusion and statuses. Seems a fitting choice, doesn't it?”

Eusine noticed William smiling, and nodded weakly. He was rather overwhelmed.

“Your being at the gym in Cianwood will be your cover. When you're not running the gym, you'll be free to pursue Suicune, who we believe has chosen the cliff-tops there as a den. He might even have a mate. We will send you any information or intel we get, pay you a handsome salary for running the gym, and supply you with any equipment you need.”

“And what if I see him? Do I catch him?” Eusine asked.

“...not yet,” William mused. “We're working on something that will make the whole thing easier.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, at present, even if you catch him, he could still fall into the wrong hands,” William said, before stuttering. “I... actually, we should discuss this later. Just research, study, observe.”

He handed Eusine a thick brown envelope; inside, Eusine saw documents about Suicune, research papers and annotated diagrams.

“How did you get all this?” he asked.

“Bits and pieces,” William said. “Inside there is a ticket for the ferry which will take you to Cianwood. There's also a key to an apartment by the beach, don't worry about the cost. At your new apartment there's the Gym keys and information on that, but you won't be taking up your post for a few months.”

“When should I go?” Eusine asked.

“Well, we never know how much our enemy knows. They could be heading across the ocean now,” William mused. “The boat leaves in two hours. You could go then.”

“Will you keep in touch?” Eusine asked.

“Sure,” William said. “I'll visit every now and then, too. I'm trying to find Entei, though, and he's more of a North Johto kind of guy. But Alakazam and Medicham can teleport, so I'll touch base with you in a few days, or something.”

“Cool,” Eusine said.

“Oh, one last thing,” William said, as Alakazam and Medicham joined his side. “We're sending you an assistant in Cianwood. She used to work with Elm, clever girl. Blue hair. Lovely pair of legs, if you know what I mean. She'll be a useful asset.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Eusine said.

“Bye!” William said, as he disappeared with a pop.

Eusine sealed the envelope back up and composed himself. He could just make out Cianwood in the distance, his new home. There would be a gym to run... but it seemed like there was a certain bit of nonchalance about that. The real reason was that Suicune was across the sea, and an organisation was trying to claim him. Bolstered, Eusine ran along the beach towards the dock, ready to start his new mission.


Notes

-So I have wanted to write this for a long time, as Eusine taking over the gym was always a bit unusual, and even in the Golden Arc, when he was at the exhibition match, there were a few things to suggest he was doing something bad as there was a scene suggesting he was working with the people who stole Whitney's Pokemon. Eusine is explored more in future instalments.

-I also wanted to show William - this is after he captured Medicham. You may remember that Mia tried catching Medicham's daughter, a Meditite, but set a field ablaze, killing her. William used Alakazam to subdue the angry creature and captured her. At this point, she has become more obedient and Will uses her with Alakazam to boost each others telekinesis.

-At this point in Milo's story, he is around Goldenrod City, preparing to leave for Ecruteak. So they're discussing the Reclassification before Milo even goes into the league, although it doesn't take place for several months, which is when Milo meets Chuck in Ch1.

-You may also remember Pryce desperately telling Elaine about the legendary Pokemon existing when she was digging about Kasper. He is one of the people in on the ruse, along with Eusine and Michael Mitchelson.

-I wanted to do a few chapters like this, showing Eusine and his assistant in Cianwood, but you'll see why that isn't necessary.



Cheers! Any questions or comments do let me know.

[PancaKe]

OKAY HERE I GO

- I should be in bed, because in 6 hours I have work.

- I thought that the Jasmine Morty thing was moving nicely. I think a few more chapters of buildup for romance would have done nicely. I know they only started working together a few arcs ago, but I think that it would have helped build them up to this point of separation.

- I'm interested to see how you carry out the effects of Jasmine's actions in the next few arc's on Morty. I think character consistency is so hard to maintain when you're posting a chapter every two weeks or so.. I can imagine that it must be difficult to keep track. So I am curious to see how you do it!

- Quite a lot has happened here. I'm a bit concerned that Chuck is working with Oscar, but I think it was a good twist. I mean, originally didn't Milo want to help Chuck with the reclassification, and now Milo is just wandering around Johto with people after him it seems... it's nice to tie back into the underlying plotline.

- I just can't see how this will be resolved and finished though. I mean, usually I can try and pick the ending, but I feel blind here! It's marvellous.

- Mr Mitchellson is a bit weird, I can't pinpoint his personality at all though.

- Did Oscar really need to kill Eli?

- Overall, an enjoyable read. Quite a lot happened, it all felt very fast paced but I guess that's how the arc works

[Chris 2.1]

MLG: Poor Eli! Does Oscar realise what he's done? See my reply to Pancake for a more in-depth approach to Oscar's motives. He truly has no way back now. I'm glad you liked seeing Chuck - more on him in future chaps!

And Jorty (Jasmine/Morty) seems somewhat in danger!


Pancake: Hey! Yea, at the moment, Morty and Jasmine haven't been explicit enough for them to know how the other feels, so this has been a huge blow for Jasmine. Obviously I wanted to highlight that Jasmine has been doing this job for a while, and despite her shy personality, she does what she has to. Morty hasn't seen that side of her - is it a side he wants to see? The poor soul considers the impact that Mr Mitchelson's organisation is having on Jasmine, and maybe he's scared the same thing happens to him.

Chuck and Oscar collaborating is a bit weird, no? But to refer to your point, see below:
-Chuck lost his job as Cianwood Gym Leader.
-He asked Milo to see if Mr Mitchelson could help get him a job.
-Milo got distracted, and subsequently doesn't have a phone on him anyway.
-Oscar wanted to recruit Milo into the Apricorn Guild and use him to infiltrate Mitchelson Enterprises.
-Oscar has also lost his job as Gym Leader.

For Chuck and Oscar to be working together, it suggests that Chuck might have told Oscar to get Milo on his side. Maybe Chuck felt let down by Milo not helping him, and sought to find another way to use the boy's influence?

Regarding the ending...I have a good idea of what happens. I have the final scene planned for the fic, and it's something that brings me immense joy to re-read. How we get there, however, is the really exciting part. To me, the fic doesn't seem as scattered and crazy in later parts.

I try to keep Mr Mitchelson somewhat enigmatic; he was heard of but not seen for so long, and I think he is a smart man who is always thinking 5 steps ahead. He has a seat on the Johto League Council so he is very influencial, very powerful. But distant, as well. Meredith is the over emotional one.

I think it's really interesting that you mentioned Oscar killing Eli. It was the worst decision he could have made - now the police will be after him. I wanted to show, however, that in that moment, Oscar's whole world came crashing down. His plot to get Milo in the Guild was for the benefit of Azalea Town, essentially. And when it went wrong, he was imprisoned in his own house. I imagine that stung, and all Oscar wanted to do was get out and run from Azalea. Seeing Eli trapped, helpless, powerless after he attacked Oscar caused him to do the unthinkable and kill him.

But where does Oscar go next?



Chapter 22 is on its way, I promise! From July 14th-August 16th I am travelling in Vietnam, Bangkok, Laos, Cambodia etc, so it'll be four weeks of me not writing! I will definitely get this chapter up before then, and hopefully the next part of The Golden Arc.

Ch22 takes place on the road to Violet City. The Golden Arc is also loosely based around the Ruins of Alph.

Violet City is....an interesting place. I'm really excited to write about it! I'll keep my lips sealed, since I'd hate to ruin anything. A few old characters appear, and a couple of new ones also star.

[Sike Saner]

Wow. o_o Showing what kinds of effects this line of work has had on Jasmine made for quite an intense chapter indeed. The scene involving her and Oscar = memorable stuff.

Another memorable aspect of the chapter: this "oh snap" moment from the scene where she was talking to Mr. Mitchelson:

“Just because William will never be reunited with his Pokemon, that doesn’t mean other people have to suffer,” Jasmine said, standing up. She stared at Mr Mitchelson, whose eyes widened at the mention of his eldest son. “I think that’s very cold.”

And damn, poor Eli.

[Chris 2.1]

Hi guys!

Been a bit absent since I've spent the last 5 weeks in South East Asia. Now I'm back and will be working on the next chapter.

We're actually skipping the 'on the road' chapter between Azalea and Violet. It hasn't been working. So the next chapter takes place as Milo and Jake arrive in Violet City...

Thanks!

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Hi Chris.

I really liked the last few chapters, a lot.

The Golden Arc was great, and I'm still searching how all of this fits together. Very well writen.

Last chapter, wth. Jake and Milo shipping? To bad for Jake though. Thanks god for alcohol. I'm curious how this will further evolve.

Poor Gina. She reminds me of a friend of mine. It's a tough world out there!

Loving Luna, give me more. She should probably crush Milo and all of his dreams, since she's about the only one who can

I think I have tons more to say, but it's all I can manage right now.

Keep up the nice work! Best pokemon fic I've read in five years.

[Chris 2.1]

Sike: Hey! With Luna I've tried a different approach; to Milo, she's always out of reach. He hasn't even spoken to her since Ecruteak City, but since she's manifested in his thoughts, I think Milo feels they're a lot closer than they are.

Milo's definitely going to try and get closer to Luna, and may find his chance in the next chapter!

As for Jake....it's been something I've thought about for a while. You'll have to see where it goes.


MLG: Hey! I'm so glad you like the fic. Your feedback continues to inspire me. The next part of the golden arc will shed a lot of light on where things are going and I just know you'll dig it.

I think Gina's character is developing and fleshing out - I've always had a soft spot for her and I think it took people a while to 'get' her. She'll feature quite a bit in future chaps.

As for Luna, she's such a mysterious character. I think it was a shock for Milo to see how accomplished she was; if you recall, she wasn't even in the finals for the Ecruteak Ribbon - Milo beat her, and then Daniel and his Donphan to earn the prize. So she's clearly gained a lot of skill.


Next part of the Golden Arc soon!

[Chris 2.1]

Didn't think I'd get this done so quickly!

The Golden Arc
Five
Diamond Fizz

Jasmine’s heart was pounding. But Lorelei exuded an aura of pure cool. As the sleek black car lay smashed on the side of the road - with Michael still inside - Metagross observed the humans with his beady eyes. The creature was levitating with his legs tucked beneath his flat stomach.

Was Michael ok? Lorelei ordered Jasmine to stay and fight the large steel Pokemon with her, and Jasmine didn’t trust the manic woman enough to go against her wishes. She was often erratic.

“Jynx!” Lorelei screeched. “Let’s execute a kamikaze combo!”

She turned to look at Jasmine; eyes framed by her garish red spectacles, she looked fierce. This was not the woman giggling in the helicopter or flirting with Michael Mitchelson. Something was different.

“Use Empoleon to keep Metagross busy,” she said.

“Okay!” Jasmine replied. “Empoleon! Aqua Jet!”

Bursting into a torpedo of water, Empoleon sped into the air and aimed at Metagross. The creature shimmered briefly, and a powerful psychic blast hurled Empoleon back. Jasmine watched as the stream of water was ruptured; large beads of water dolloped to the ground as Empoleon arched back and smashed into the ground.

“Are you okay?” Jasmine asked. The bird got to his feet and nodded at her, holding his sharp wings up like weapons. Metagross floated closer to them as Jynx stood rooted to the spot, eyes closed.

“Go for a bubble beam.”

Opening his beak the creature fired off thick bubbles in rapid succession. They shot through the air like bullets, smashing into the foe’s steel frame and bursting upon impact. Metagross frowned and focused hard; his psychic energy manifested into a tremor that shook across the forest path.

“He’s using his telekinesis to make an earthquake!” Jasmine said. “Empoleon! Jump!”

“Jynx, focus,” Lorelei said.

Empoloen leapt up and span around in the air, firing off white-hot blades of energy at the foe. Jasmine didn’t understand what Jynx was doing; it looked like absolutely nothing.

“Okay!” Lorelei barked. “Mean Look!”

“You’re keeping Metagross here?” Jasmine cried. Jynx waved her arms and her hair began to sweep around her face wildly. The area around Metagross rippled and distorted slightly; he didn’t seem to pay any attention to it.

“We need it to stay here. It can’t escape,” she said.

“I don’t understand!” Jasmine said, as the creature uprooted trees around them.

“You wouldn’t!” Lorelei cried. Seconds later she was hurtled up into the air by Metagross, screaming out into the skies. Jasmine saw Jynx use her own psychic powers to catch her trainer and gently lower her back down to the ground.

Picking up her glasses from the floor, Lorelei ordered a perish song from her Pokemon. A shrill series of haunting notes echoed out from the purple-skinned creature; it was sombre, aching, painful.

On hearing the notes, Jasmine thought of Morty. Where was he now? Maybe he was thinking of Jasmine as he spent time with his girlfriend, Rochelle. Would he ever come back to Michael? It was unlikely. If he didn’t like Jasmine wielding a gun, Morty would be horrified at the sociopath Lorelei.

Jasmine tried shutting out the tainted misery in the air and focused on battling Metagross. Empoleon leapt to the side as Metagross raced along with a meteor mash; a glowing, clawed arm shimmered wildly as the creature propelled itself through the air with telekinesis.

“Okay, so Metagross can’t escape the area,” Jasmine said. “So why is Empoleon battling it?”

“Perish Song isn’t some sort of vocal overdose,” Lorelei snapped. “It drains the foe beyond belief. You need to wear it out so that Perish Song will work.”

“But Empoleon will get drained!” Jasmine said.

“We’ll heal him later!” Lorelei said, a wild fire burning in her eyes. She was becoming intense. “Jynx! Calm mind! Focus your energy!”

“And what are you doing?” Jasmine asked.

“WILL YOU JUST FIGHT THE FUCKING METAGROSS!”

“Ok!” she cried. “Jesus. Empoleon!”

Metagross flew through the air and slugged Empoleon with a meteor mash. The ferocious punch connected with the Pokemon’s stomach and he flew back through the air. He looked around, bewildered slightly.

Empoleon was not the right choice for battling Metagross. Jasmine held a Pokeball out and recalled the creature in an aura of red light; it would mean that he wouldn’t succumb to exhaustion so quickly. Lorelei whipped her hair around and looked at Jasmine, confused at her actions.

“What are you doing!”

“Empoleon’s attacks aren’t working!” Jasmine said. “I’m sending someone else out. GO!”

She hurled the Pokeball through the air and it burst open in a flurry of sparks. What emerged was a tiny creature; bright orange with blinking eyes, contained within a blue plasma. Two sharp, pronged appendages extened and retracted at will.

“What the fuck is that!?” said Lorelei.

“Rotom,” Jasmine replied.

“WHAT IS A ROTOM!?”

“Just calm down!” Jasmine said. “Rotom! Fire off a thunderbolt!”

Metagross saw the creature let off a large, intense blast of sparks that flew through the air like a golden javelin. Effortlessly the foe used a psychic to divert the attack; the bolts whipped round and smashed into a tree, causing it to burst into flames.

“OH GOOD WORK!” shouted Lorelei. Her voice was breaking and her hair looked frazzled. She seemed stressed. “This Pokemon is powerful enough to kill us all! Stick to the plan!”

“If it’s so strong why did you trap it here with mean look?” Jasmine argued.

“Because someone sent this to attack us. That means if it goes away, it will come back stronger. Maybe it’s reading our minds as we speak! We can’t let it escape. We need to destroy it!”

“Rotom,” Jasmine said, exhausted from her ally. “Shadow ball. Go!”

Rotom nodded and his tendrils extended. Between their fine tips he began to charge a glossy orb of condensed shadow; Metagross saw this and let out a long, rattling screech before unleashing another psychic tremor.

The quake shook Jasmine and she collapsed to the ground; Lorelei staggered back while Jynx took some damage. She was still using calm mind, and seemed impervious as the Perish Song filled the air yet again. Since Empoleon was recalled, and Jynx seemed so contained, it was only Metagross who seemed to suffer.

As the song filled the air, Metagross gave a groan and began to dip from his position floating in mid-air. He seemed pained, but was fighting it. With a casual flick of his claw he sent Jynx flying into the wrecked car, but he seemed weaker.

“He’s succumbing to it!” Lorelei shouted. “Jynx! Sheer Cold!”

Jasmine saw everything in slow motion. Jynx held her hands out and her gloved fingertips sparkled brilliantly. A fantastic beam of light burst from the Pokemon, energy encased in pure ice. It twinkled as it tore through the air like a brilliant intergalactic train.

The diamond sheen on the attack reflected the light and smashed into Metagross’s frame. The creature flew back through the woods and smashed into a large fir tree, tearing it down in the process. The creaking crack that followed the large tree’s demise rang out through the clearing.

Lorelei ran over to the spot where Metagross lay. Jasmine warily followed. The creature’s legs were splayed out and it had its eyes closed; a soft icy sheen coated its body.

“Is it defeated?” Jasmine asked. Metagross twitched; Jasmine staggered to the side.

“No,” Lorelei replied. “Jynx, go.”

She wiggled forward and placed both her hands on the creature’s body. Jasmine wasn’t sure what was going on, so she watched from afar with the excitable Rotom.

Jynx let out a long, deep, heaving groan; she kept her hands firmly planted on the foe as a glow took over her body. Icy crystals sparkled around her fingers and Jynx pressed harder onto the Pokemon.

“Focus,” Lorelei whispered; a timid, careful gasp.

Metagross lay silent as Jynx concentrated; Jasmine let out a shiver as the atmosphere dropped and the same familiar feeling she had from Lorelei’s cold handshake came flooding back.

Then, with a snap, Jynx sent a flooding icy wave into Metagross. Jasmine watched, awe-struck, as Metagross’s body became lost beneath an intense, frozen assault. The deep blue of the creature’s body became lost, diluted beneath the strong, icy sheen. His eyes swam in empty space.

But he wasn’t being encased in a block of ice. Rather, Jynx was permeating the creature in ice, sending freezing tendrils deep into the Pokemon’s body.

Jynx looked exhausted as she took a step back, admiring her work. The Metagross was stiffer than before, it looked lifeless. Just when Jasmine was about to speak up, Metagross trembled. Another snap echoed out and the sound of breaking glass -

Metagross burst into a thousand tiny chunks; they flooded outward and slid across the dry forest ground, some larger, some smaller, one hitting Jasmine in the torso. She let out a gasp as Metagross, completely frozen, literally shattered before her.

“My god!” she cried.

One chunky berg of ice showed parts of Metagross’ claw. Another, that slid to Jasmine’s feet, was simply an eyeball, frozen solid. A frosty fog filled the area as the cold moisture permeated the air but Lorelei looked cosy and confident.

“It’s…I mean, is it even dead?” Jasmine asked.

“It doesn’t even exist,” Lorelei said, in a cold, emotionless voice.

The two girls walked back to the car and saw Michael trapped inside. He was fine, but some twisted metal pinned him to the wreckage. Jynx worked her magic to free the man, who was soon filled in on what happened.

“All I could hear was you two arguing,” Michael said, dusting himself off. “You’re going to have to work on that.”

“Why?” Jasmine asked.

“Lorelei is going to be your new partner,” Michael said.

“Oh fuck,” Jasmine said.

“I’m no happier about it than you are, Princess,” the woman said. “Michael, we destroyed the Metagross. I think it was sent to gather information off us.”

“Indeed,” Michael said. “Metagross have a highly complex neural network. Their four brains work with one another so intricately we still don’t know the extent of their abilities.”

“How big a threat could they be?” Jasmine asked.

“Imagine, for a moment, a cocktail party. When someone says an inappropriate comment. The atmosphere in the room changes, and you can sense that. Everyone understands something about the atmosphere of the room but there isn’t actually anything to observe. It’s a sense.

“Imagine if you had four brains. What else could you perceive, or gather? What could you sense? We believe Metagross, with their superior brains, could sense what lies in the hearts of their enemies. What drives them to despair, to ruin. Could they sense a relationship between two people?

“They are dangerous and we had to destroy the one that had been sent to us. If it left this forest, who knows what secrets it could have taken with it? It may have known who my wife is or how to earn my daughter’s trust.”

“I see,” Jasmine replied.

“I will ring for Andrew to send a car so we can get back to the helicopter and return to Goldenrod,” Michael said, getting his phone out.

Jasmine looked across at Lorelei. She received the epitome of a frosty look.

*

It had been a long day. Michael sat at his desk, swathed in darkness save for an ornate lamp at his side. Lorelei and Jasmine were at loggerheads, but it was necessary for them to work together. They needed to learn to get on, for there were far too many enemies they faced. They needed to be united.

“Bill, can you come through when you have time?” Michael said to his intercom. His computer was being strange; the screen was fuzzy and distorted. “Having some computer issues here.”

“I’ll be there in ten,” came the British accent.

Michael stared at the screen. It was all wrong, all muddled - this would not do at all. The computer was brand new, how was it that it was not working? Among the grey fuzz was a small pink dot.

Clicking it was useless, or so Michael thought. He was suddenly overcome with pain as a bolt of lightning burst from his computer; it struck him in the chest and he fell backwards from his chair, paralysed.

“Ungh!”

“I’d advise you not to talk,” came a voice. A voice filled the room. From the floor, Michael scanned the area. Nobody was here. But the pink dot on his screen was growing larger and larger.

“Who are you?”

The fuzz on the screen was gone. Instead, a live feed of a suited man could be seen. He sat in a regal chair and had slick, grey hair.

“Michael Mitchelson,” the man said. “My name is Steven Stone. And I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”

Michael said nothing, feeling the breath in his chest get shorter. He didn’t know this man, but he sounded familiar.

“I run the Devon Corporation, in Hoenn. You might remember trying to liquidise the company and merge it with your own Mitchelson Enterprises. We have met, I think. At stuffy business dinners where hearts are worn on sleeves. But it’s funny how we meet tonight. Vastly different circumstances.

“Maybe you’re wondering how it is that I talk to you? I introduce you to the marvel that is PorygonZ. I know you’ve a Porygon at your company, but this creature I possess - inflicted with the most advanced Devon technology - can do things Porygon can only dream of.

“It exists almost entirely in cyberspace, to the point that the fragments remaining in its corporeal form are of lunacy and insanity. It is an unstable Pokemon - perhaps more research can prevent that. But it can do anything, and it managed to locate your office, and find out who you are. I can finally put a name to you.

“I’ve been looking for you for some time, Michael. My company funds a lot of the crime that goes on in Goldenrod City - it’s a long, winding paper trail, which is why you haven’t been able to link me to the corruption in the capital - but rest assured I take full responsibility for orchestrating the thefts. And all my sources tell me that you and your vigilante group are destroying my trade. Recovering Pokemon. That makes me very angry, Michael.

“Especially when one of your agents - a girl named Jasmine - was responsible for murdering my agent, Adam Anderson. This same girl tried playing double agent and did some work for Largo LeGrande…that is playing a dangerous game, Michael. And rest assured when I end this call I am going to find this girl and kill her in the most violent way possible.

“I contacted you, Michael, because I want you to stop what you’re doing. I’m not having you interfere any more with my plans. Because if you try to do so, Michael, I’m going to use this PorygonZ to infiltrate your computer. Your security cameras. Your life. I’m going to find out every single shred of information on you so that I can bring your world to ruins. I will murder your wife, Meredith. I’ll murder your daughter, Mia. I’ll murder your son, Milo. And when I’ve killed every person you love I will kill you only when you’re begging me to do so. Do you understand?”

Michael croaked, struggling to get to his feet.

“One of the cells in Goldenrod is doing another raid next week. It’s going to be a big one. We are storming the Exhibition Match at Goldenrod Gym and we are going to take Pokemon from the gym leader there. We will also be stealing from the crowd who are attending as we believe there will be some valuable Pokemon.

“Now, I’m telling you this because this is a warning. It is a high profile raid. And now you know about it. If the operation is botched, and someone - anyone - interferes with proceedings, then I will know you have sent your agents out. And I’ll go ahead with the whole…killing your family…’thing’. I think that is good enough motivation for you to leave me and my company alone.”

Michael’s heart was racing; the stinging pains in his chest were lessening and he grabbed the arm of his swivel chair to heave himself up; he fell back down and the chair collapsed beside him. Steven Stone’s thin lips curled into a smile.

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Michael. Good night.”

Gradually, the picture resumed to the email Michael had been sending before PorygonZ interfered. Michael was breathing in short gasps as he lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

“Mr Mitchelson!”

Bill came rushing into the room, seeing Michael on the floor. Michael stared up at him; his face was stained with tears.

“Are you okay? Mr Mitchelson! What happened!”

Bill gripped Michael’s hand and helped him up; his legs felt weak, so he opted to sit down in his chair. Bill stared at Michael with shock and concern. Michael was in floods of tears; his heart felt damaged, sore, but it was an emotional pain.

“What’s wrong, Michael?”

“W-We have to abort,” Michael gasped.

“Abort what?” Bill said.

“The - everything,” he stammered. “We need to stop everything. The whole thing.”

“Why on earth would we do that?” Bill said. Michael wiped the tears on his sleeve and took a deep gulp.

“B-Because they know who we are,” he said in a soft, delicate tone. “They’re going to kill everyone. We have to stop what we’re doing, Bill.”

Bill gave a nod. He seemed to understand.

“I can’t have anyone’s blood on my hands,” Michael said. “I can’t.”

Steven’s wry smile still stuck in Michael’s mind. As Bill went to inform the agents and manage the closure of the operation, Michael felt a gut-wrenching sickness in his stomach. Hiding behind a veil had been fine, but now he was exposed to the enemy, and felt utterly helpless.





Notes
-I don't know how I wrote this so quickly? Most of it was done today.

-As you know I plan a lot in advance. This has been a plot I have had in mind for a while and I'm very pleased with how it came out.

-I wanted to get across that Steven isn't like Giovanni - he isn't the head honcho of an evil team - but he's a businessman who is funding the crime syndicates in Goldenrod. Those are all intricately linked with their own people running and managing them - but the money comes almost entirely from Steven.

-I think people like Largo LeGrande probably don't even know who Steven is.

-In this fic, Steven isn't really a Pokemon Trainer. I think he has one or two strong Pokemon but he probably didn't train them himself. I always imagined him as a cut-throat businessman.

-As for Lorelei, I want to get across her odd behavior, her almost schitzophrenic personality...she's a loose cannon, but she gets things done. Jasmine doesn't like her because she likes to be organised, you know? With Lorelei, she has no clue what's going to happen, and that scares Jas.

-Has Steven Stone been mentioned before in the fic?

re-read the scene where Milo saw Keadis's death.

Hopefully things are beginning to piece together!


Thanks guys!

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Poor Meta

So Michael's finally gone scared. Good. Let's see how this works out.

I wanna hear more about Chuck and his role in this.

Gonna re-read scenes as you told us.

I'm sensing a much bigger plot that has yet to be unfold. Can't wait!

Lorlei is also pretty sweet, her over-reacted behaviour doesn't seem to fit her icy personality though.

[Chris 2.1]

MLG: If you re-read the scene at the end of Ch22 (where Milo sees Keadis' murder) it might help given what you know from this extra.

You'll get to see Chuck soon. I'm really looking forward to writing it! Last we saw he was meeting Oscar, but what on earth is he up to?

As for Lorelei...hmm. I think she's a bit all-over-the-place. Quite hot-headed, irratic, but sometimes relaxed. Just a bit psycho really :/. I wanted to allude in the last Golden Arc chap that she had killed a lot of people and gone a bit over the edge working for Michael. I think she lost the plot a long time ago.

[Sike Saner]

But he wasn’t being encased in a block of ice. Rather, Jynx was permeating the creature in ice, sending freezing tendrils deep into the Pokemon’s body.

Jynx looked exhausted as she took a step back, admiring her work. The Metagross was stiffer than before, it looked lifeless. Just when Jasmine was about to speak up, Metagross trembled. Another snap echoed out and the sound of breaking glass -

Metagross burst into a thousand tiny chunks; they flooded outward and slid across the dry forest ground, some larger, some smaller, one hitting Jasmine in the torso. She let out a gasp as Metagross, completely frozen, literally shattered before her.

“My god!” she cried.

One chunky berg of ice showed parts of Metagross’ claw. Another, that slid to Jasmine’s feet, was simply an eyeball, frozen solid.

D:

D: D: D:

Holy shit.


Very gripping and memorable installment there. And kudos for using rotom and porygon-z this time around.

[Sike Saner]

It was nice to let his feet breathe, but Milo noticed he could really do with cutting his toenails.

“It can wait,” he muttered. More important was the impending contest.

There's no contest ribbon for having well-groomed feet, after all.

Nanette's a pretty interesting character; I like her, too. And yay for the houndour capture!

Yay also for the presence of a banette in that chapter. Those are awesome.

Next chapter looks quite eventful. Looking forward to it. :3

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

Great pieces yet again! Jasmine-Morty shipping all the way! I love it. The plot is coming along aswell, with Steven as a more powerful businessman (and crook), some crazy ass Porygon Z and murders!

Poor Cynadquil

Really, wish I could comment more, but I really just enjoy reading it. As soon as it's up, I'll be reading it. Actually, it's the same with all your pokemon-fics.

[Chris 2.1]

Thanks MLG, really appreciate it!

Next chapter is the Cherrygrove contest, where Milo has to prove himself like never before. I'm about halfway into it; it's a pretty effing cool contest.

Any thoughts, questions, speculations....hit me.

[Sike Saner]

“Come back here!” she hissed. Cyndaquil cried its name, but as it ran, there was an echoing bang that rang across the night; Cyndaquil was knocked off his feet and hurled across the plain in a pool of blood, letting off a single, squeaked note.

D:

Yeah, that was... yeah.

“I’m going to kill you,” Largo said, in thick, rattling gasps. “Then kiss you again.”

...Well. That's certainly vile as hell.

“Once you die, you’ll belong to me forever,” Largo said. “For ever.”

I reiterate: Vile. As. Hell.

As he pulled the trigger, however, something black struck him across the side and his aim was thrown off; he looked to see a Murkrow taking to the skies, Largo’s gun in his talons.

*applauds the everloving crap out of that murkrow*

Jasmine gasped as a figure ran along and tackled into Largo, knocking him to the ground; Morty was on top of him, punching his pouchy face once, twice, a third time…

*applauds the everloving crap out of Morty*


Yeah, Largo was quite the bastard; I was indeed hoping to see something befall him. And it was quite a memorable end that he met, too. >:)

[Chris 2.1]

Sike: I'll be honest, I've wanted to kill Largo for a while. He's disgusting :-/. I couldn't even plot a death horrible and excruciating enough though, shooting him wasn't big enough, stabbing, falling down a well, etc. Then I liked the idea of Gengar physically snatching his heart......


Anyway next chap up very soon! I've been in Austria last week and got loads done, but start a new job tomorrow so it might not be up next week.

It's an exciting contest, if I do say so...I think some unexpected characters get some development. By which I mean someone who isn't Milo or Mia. But they do get development too....but you expected that, right?

I also kinda revamped my plans for Mia's team while writing it. I hope you like the battles when I put it up.

Chris x

[crown34]

Sike: I'll be honest, I've wanted to kill Largo for a while. He's disgusting :-/. I couldn't even plot a death horrible and excruciating enough though, shooting him wasn't big enough, stabbing, falling down a well, etc. Then I liked the idea of Gengar physically snatching his heart......

How bout getting attacked by a very angry army of Dragons?

[Chris 2.1]

I thought of massacres like that, but with it feeling a bit accidental, or 'wrong place, wrong time' sort of thing, that character-driven element is taken away a bit. No, I think having his heart ripped out was a good way for Largo to go.

And it will surely alter the dynamic between Morty and Jas now he's saved her ass in a bloodthirsty fashion...

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

I liked Meridith a lot. She seemed really mature and very professional, very unlike the Meridith we've seen before (or I just didn't pay much attention to her). Mia's a bitch, no new knowledge in that, but she's strong. Gallade was very impressive, but Medicham is still my king (eventhough it's a queen).

Further more, Nanette isn't really my character. It just doesn't fit for me.

Looking forward to the Golden Arc, which I especially like.

Steven is also a badass mofo!

[The_Missing_Link]

I really liked this chapter. It was interesting to see your take on stone evolutions and what happens if Pokemon are evolved too early

When will Milo find out that Nanette is not just weird but actually crazy?


I'm trying to figure how you're going to have Jake reveal his feelings to Milo, if Milo doesn't deduce it first. It's going to be interesting, to say the least

[Chris 2.1]

MLG: I'm glad you could see another side of Meredith, I think she is a many-layered character. It's interesting how little she favors Mia over Milo. I think Meredith has seen Mia turn into a brat when she never did herself, and is perhaps trying to wake her daughter up to the situation.

Mia was strong, but as I mentioned earlier, I think she has worked very hard on a single strategy - to take Milo on toe-to-toe. Having said that, I think she'd be able to handle Gina, Dior and Luna in a battle. Later in the fic we meet a character who might give Mia a run for her money.

Shame you don't like Nanette. You'll be happy to hear she doesn't stick around for long, I have been torn over how much to include her in future but I think in terms of character, we'll see enough of her to tie up her story.

And Steven will appear again soon :O


TML: Hey, great to hear from you. I felt stone evolutions have to have some kind of downfall, and I do always ponder how they would work. I think they're a concentrated form of energy which work like hormones do during puberty, so using them at the wrong time is just catastrophic. Also, in RSE, I remember evo stones being quite rare, and I think in this world, they'd be so hard to come by. You wouldn't find them in a shop.

As for Jake's feelings...it's one of those slightly more long-term plots but it'll develop a little over the next few chapters.


Okay so here is a little extra bit. This didn't fit into Ch25 but is essential for the future story-lines, so I thought I'd show you it all now. Let me know what you think!




PREVIOUSLY
-Milo and Jake met Falkner
-Falkner believed his father was murdered, but had been told he died of a heart attack
-He learned Keadis was reported dead in Goldenrod City, where he had been meeting someone.

Show-Off
-?-
Clairsentience and The Tragic Tale of Keadis

Jake looked up at the sky, puffed-up with mallowy clouds. He felt odd spending time in Violet City without Milo; the two had been on the road together for some time, and being so far from home, with nothing immediate to do was quite confusing.

Nevertheless, he swept his blonde fringe from his face and focused on the battle. He was on the top floor of the tight, coiled Violet City gym, exposed to the skies, training his Pokemon against Falkner. Wingull was facing Falkner’s Noctowl, while Parasect and Ditto sat with Gina Gourmante, who observed with mild interest.

The three had spent a lot of time together; they usually had dinner or met for drinks in the evening if Gina wasn’t working. Jake was fond of Gina; she felt like an older sister, albeit one with loose morals. Falkner, on the other hand, felt like a cousin; Jake didn’t know much about him, but he exuded a manly confidence Jake enjoyed seeing.

Jake had never had strong relationships with either parent; he had bonded closely with his father, but he left home when Jake was young, leaving the boy with his mother, a strict academic, who had turned to self-deprecation and blame to deal with the divorce. Jake left home as soon as he could after that, and (as far as he knew) had no brothers or sisters.

“You okay?”

Falkner’s voice cut through his thoughts; Jake looked ahead to see the Pokemon waiting for instructions. He nodded, shuffling his feet, and pointing to the large owl.

“Sweep up, and fire a water gun directly down!” Jake said. Wingull took to the skies, soaring up at a steep angle just as Noctowl bolted through the air to strike the foe. Evading, Wingull twisted his beak and fired down a jet of water at Noctowl, but the Pokemon flapped left and dodged it.

“Water gun is strong, but it hasn’t got a wide blast radius,” Falkner reminded Jake. This was not the first time they had discussed this. “I can just dodge it, you know?”

“Fine,” Jake said. “Wingull! Gust!”

Flapping his thin wings, Wingull created a fierce gust that swept along his side of the arena. Noctowl saw this and flew high into the rafters of the gym, before focusing energy in his large eyes. Jake saw a fantastic rainbow beam fire down at Wingull, but he managed to catch an air current and sweep along the left of the circular arena.

“Good!” Jake said. Wingull let off a chirp as he flew high again and surveyed the arena. Noctowl’s wings suddenly became encased in a steel coating as he flew up after Wingull.

“Fire a water gun!” Jake said, but Wingull was delaying the release of the attack. Jake could see the creature keeping the water in his beak, waiting for the right time. As Noctowl got closer, wings sparkling brilliantly, Jake cried out for his Pokemon to do something.

With a sharp cry, Wingull opened his mouth and a large orb of water flew down at Noctowl. It smashed into the bird but instead of sloshing over him, Noctowl became encased in the shimmering orb of water, which was suspended in mid-air.

“That’s water pulse!” Gina said, who had looked up momentarily. Jake saw the water pulse fizzing and pulsating, while Noctowl was trapped inside, with no oxygen…

Just as he tried to do something, Jake saw the orb burst, causing Noctowl to fall to the ground in a deluge of water. Slamming into the hard arena ground, Noctowl was dripping wet and short of breath, gasping heavily. Wingull looked shocked at his sudden power.

“Fuck me,” Falkner said, running over to his Pokemon. “Jake, that was really cool.”

“Thanks,” Jake said meekly, as Falkner recalled his Pokemon. “Well done, Wingull.”

“He’s mastering more water moves,” Falkner said. “He’ll be ready to evolve soon.”

Jake beamed at his Pokemon, who roosted on his outstretched arm. As Falkner thumbed through his Pokeballs, wondering who to choose next, a man came up the stone staircase. Jake recognised him as Mark Beaumont, the man who had been trying to shut down Violet City Gym. He worked for the Johto League.

“What’s going on, Falkner?” he said. His tone was not aggressive, but it was clear that was the tone Mark wished to achieve. Jake saw him properly, and noticed one again he had failed to dress importantly.

“What?” Falkner asked.

“Is this an official gym match?” asked Mark. “I see nothing logged into the database.”

“It’s just a practice, we’re training,” Falkner said.

“And how many gym battles have you had this week?” Mark said. “Our target is 28 challengers a week. That’s four a day. You’re way below target.”

“Nobody’s coming!” Falkner protested.

“Maybe because you’re spending your time relaxing with your friends,” Mark said, shooting glances at both Jake and Gina. “Get on it, Falkner. And ask your friends to leave.”

“Hey,” Gina said, storming over. “Don’t be such a dick, alright? We’re not doing any harm.”

Mark gave Gina a glance, looking at her short denim shorts, her tight, cropped top and her wedge heels. He didn’t seem to approve, as he shook his head slowly.

“This is official business,” he said. “Keep your beaky nose out.”

He turned to Falkner.

“If your father could see what you’d done to this gym…he’d be ashamed,” he said, before turning and making his way out. Jake was horrified at Mark’s cold words with Falkner, but said nothing as the man left the gym.

After agreeing to leave, Jake and Gina made their way to downtown Violet, where they had lunch in the pretty Sprout Tower Gardens. Gina explained over sushi that Falkner was being repeatedly harassed by the Johto League official, and that Mark Beaumont was staying in Violet City to oversee the gym for the near future.

“Falkner still needs to grieve,” Gina said, although it was more of a muse than a statement. “He has no clarity over his father’s death, he doesn’t know how it happened.”

Jake felt his face redden; he had heard, after Medicham utilised her clairsentience, that Keadis was murdered in the National Park after going on the run from someone he met in Goldenrod. He didn’t know all the details, but he still felt implicated somehow.

“Are you okay?” Gina asked, fishing a prawn out of her bowl. “You seem a bit quiet.”

Jake looked into Gina’s eyes. They had grown very close over the last few days, could he trust her with this secret? What would Milo say if he shared this information?

“Jakey?”

“Look,” Jake said, taking a gulp. “You have to promise not to tell anybody…”

“What? Tell them what?”

“I…” he began, feeling something clogging his throat. “I know…a bit about Keadis’ death.”

Gina’s face fell; her seductive eyes dropped, saucer-like and void of expression.

“What?”

“I…We…Milo saw a vision,” Jake said.

“Oh, just a vision?” Gina said.

“It was real, like memories,” Jake said, struggling to make sense. “Medicham has this ability…she can pick up surface memories from objects. And we have this membership card, for the Cloyster Club, in Goldenrod. Remember?”

“I saw you that night,” Gina recalled.

“Right. We didn’t realise, but the card Milo won from the Bug Catching Contest was for membership to the exclusive Heiroglyph Palace, in the Cloyster Club. We think it belonged to Keadis. When Medicham touched the card, she started seeing the memories within it, and she pulled Milo into her vision.”

“What did she see?”

“Milo said…they were in the National Park. And Keadis was with someone, they were escaping from someone. Milo said it was really blurry, and hazy, and suddenly, Keadis was struck. He had a gaping wound across his stomach and collapsed.”

“Oh my god!” Gina said. “Jake! This is serious!”

“I didn’t see it, obviously,” Jake said. “So I’m not sure what it all means, but Milo felt really haunted by it. But we can’t tell Falkner! It sounds so suspicious, like we were involved.”

“You said Medicham could feel surface memories, well, I have a Starmie, and she can use psychic attacks,” Gina said. “Come on, we’ll try it at my flat. Do you have the membership card?”

“Yea,” Jake said, remembering Milo left it in their hotel.

“Let’s go then.”

*

They stopped off at the hotel only briefly. Jake saw the membership card on top of the television and pocketed it, before they left to walk to Gina’s flat, which she had been renting during her stay in Violet. It wasn’t in a particularly nice part of the city, but was situated above a quaint bakery.

Jake could smell bread as he walked up the stairs to Gina’s bedroom; the flat was small and had a cosy, warm heat from the bakery downstairs. As they walked along the hall, a Hispanic man shuffled past them; Gina explained this was her roommate, Rico.

“Gina, por que a los hombres mi casa?” he hissed. Gina ignored him and led Jake into her bedroom, which, given the small flat, was surprisingly large. It was not, however, very clean; clothes were strewn around the room and Jake saw an old pizza in the corner.

“Okay,” Gina said, releasing her Starmie. The purple star shimmered as she emerged into the middle of the room. Jake got out the membership card, handsome with its ornate scarlet and gold markings, and laid it down on the floor.

“Er, Medicham touched it,” Jake said, unsure how an inanimate Pokemon like Starmie would accomplish this. His thoughts were ruptured, however, as Starmie throbbed with energy and the card levitated off the ground.

“Try and read the memories of it,” Gina said, sitting cross-legged on her bed. The card floated across the room and pressed against Starmie’s core like a sticker; as the central gem cycled through bright colours, Jake saw Starmie cause the air around to ripple.

Many minutes passed in silence; Jake began to wonder if Starmie did not possess the ability to read surface memories. After all, it seemed a rare gift. However, in one quick moment, Starmie shuddered, and Jake felt a searing pain in his temple. Something flashed before his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Gina asked.

Jake’s eyes stung, but he tried to concentrate. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see any images of Keadis, but felt troubled as Starmie continue to explore the card with her telekinesis. He felt pangs of strong, violent emotions, but soon called the whole thing off. Evidently it wasn’t working.

Starmie dropped the card and Jake quickly snatched it back up. Gina apologised, seemingly disappointed they weren’t able to tap into the card like Medicham had done. Jake reminded her Medicham was a very competent psychic Pokemon, one of the strongest he had seen.

“So, you definitely didn’t see anything?” Gina said, for the tenth time.

“No,” Jake said. “Just…I just got a sore head. We should get some fresh air."”

Jake was rubbing his eyes with his hands while Gina was busy on her phone.

"Are you coming?" he asked.

"Yea, just finishing something," Gina said, sending a message.

I think I can help you find out who killed your father.

*

It was late at night, but Falkner was wide awake. There was a sharp rap at the door and he confirmed it was unlocked. Gina Gourmante entered the dark room meekly, shutting the door behind her. She looked at Falkner, who seemed to be concentrating on something.

“Explain yourself,” he said coldly.

“Jake showed me this card,” Gina said. “Apparently it belonged to your father. Milo’s Medicham had an ability…I can’t remember the name…she could pick up memories from objects.”

“It’s called clairsentience,” Falker said. “Incredibly powerful. You could use it on a door, and you’d see anyone who touched that door handle. You could see the man who made the door. You could see the tree, standing in a forest, unaware…”

“Well, Jake was sketchy on the details, because he didn’t see it himself,” Gina said. “But he seems to think there was information on your father.”

“Why didn’t they tell me?” Falkner snapped, getting up. He walked towards Gina and snatched the sleek card from her hand. “Why couldn’t they admit it? Maybe they were involved…”

“They weren’t,” Gina said. “Of course they weren’t, Falkner. They saw a memory, it messed with their heads. How do you express knowledge about something you can’t even see?”

“I’ll look myself,” Falkner said, clicking his fingers. From the darkness of the bare room, a Xatu flapped down to his trainer. Gina gasped; she didn’t know the Pokemon had been in the room. It had very beautiful markings; greens, whites and blacks, with red and yellow also. It kept its wings wrapped around its body and stared at the card.

“Look into this,” Falkner said to his Pokemon. “Scan the memories of this card, keep going until you can probe deeper and deeper. Connect with me, share it with me.”

Xatu nodded and his eyes, usually staring in different directions, focused on the card. Gina watched fearfully from the corner as Falkner gave a brief shudder. Xatu stared and stared, focusing. Suddenly Falkner felt a sharp pain in his head.

He was still in the room with Gina; his legs were crossed and he was on the floor, but he was also somewhere else. He could smell a dampness somewhere and a strong hit of hair products. Milo and Jake were before him, and the smell of vomit filled the air.

“What’s wrong?” Jake cried. Falkner felt jabs of fear and apprehension; he was scared, or perhaps the boys were?

“I saw him, I saw Keadis die,” Milo replied, throwing up in the toilet. "He was killed, Jake."

There was a curious squeezing sensation, before Falkner started to lose focus of the two boys. The hotel room melted away, and a strong smell of grass filled Falkner’s nostrils. He could also tell it was late at night.

Someone was panting heavily. Falkner could see a man crouched over in a small forest clearing, and his heart soared as he saw his father, alive, catching his breath. Seeing his father’s eyes, seeing his heart beating, catching a brief glimpse of the tattoo on his arm; it was overwhelming.

“Dad?” Falkner called out, but the words failed to materialise. He couldn’t speak.

“Are you okay, Keadis?” came a voice. Falkner turned to see a man approach Keadis.

“Barry,” Keadis sighed. “What are you doing here?”

“Following a scent,” the man replied. “What is going on?”

“I had to run,” Keadis said. “The meeting in Goldenrod…it was a trap.”

“A trap?”

“The Johto League summoned me here,” Keadis explained. “For a crisis talk. They explained about the upcoming Reclassification, and assured me I’d be safe in my position. But I threw them a curve ball. I told them I knew about Steven Stone funding the Johto League with money from his criminal organisations.”

“What did they say?” Barry asked, fearful.

“They told me my silence would be rewarded, they tried to bribe me, you know. But then they started mentioning Falkner, and Fuchsia City. I got the impression they have been keeping an eye on him.”

“Do you think Falkner is safe?”

“No. I’m going to make my way to Fuchsia City and protect my son. This gathered momentum so fast, Barry.”

“You brought too much attention to yourself!” he protested.

“People need to know the truth,” Keadis argued back. “I’ll get Falkner, and then I’ll begin my campaign. I need to tell Michael Mitchelson what I know, he needs to know Steven’s involvement.”

Keadis, peering through the overgrowth, got up and moved gingerly through the darkness. Barry nervously followed. The clearing was lit up by the moonlight, but there wasn’t a single person in sight. Keadis walked along a few more feet before something whipped out from beneath him; his legs were struck and he collapsed to the ground.

“Keadis!” Barry cried, as something connected with his head. Barry felt to his knees as Keadis got to his feet; a large, ugly flytrap was standing before him, staring at him with cold, emotionless eyes. The Victreebel had sharp leaves, long fangs and sap drizzling from its lip.

Barry flittered in and out of consciousness as Keadis stared up at the Pokemon. Half-hidden by a nearby oak tree, a woman watched the scene unfold. Victreebel stood there, motionless, until the woman’s whisper rang out across the clearing.

“Kill him.”

One of the plant’s thick leaves was slashed across Keadis’ stomach. He screamed and fell onto his back as blood erupted from the long wound stretching across his stomach. Keadis cried out, yelled, screamed as his fingertips touched the hot, runny blood.

Barry blinked furiously and came to his senses, seeing his friend so hurt. The Victreebel and the woman in white had both disappeared, but Barry cradled his friend.

“They knew I was here,” Keadis gasped.

“How?”

“Steven Stone always knows…” whispered Keadis. It was at this point that Falkner’s distress at witnessing the scene began to merge into the scene he witnessed. A bloodied Gina Gourmante flickered among the scene, while Falkner could see something that looked distinctly like Milo Mitchelson’s arm.

Screaming so loud the whole building could hear, Falkner backed away from the card as if it were about to administer a fatal bite. Pressed against the wall, he erupted into sobs as Gina watched on, horrified. Xatu blinked momentarily as the card lay on the ground.

“W-What happened?” Gina said; her tone made it sound like she had asked Falkner this several times.

“I saw him die,” Falkner wept, shouting. “I saw him!”

Gina looked at him, unsure what to do. Falkner moaned as he sobbed into his arms, overcome with grief. Had he imagined that was how his father would die, slaughtered by a vicious plant Pokemon? Falkner wondered who Barry was, before things started to make sense.

“Barry,” he said. “Barry Bramble.”

“What?”

“He’s a man, an author, he writes about Bug Pokemon, but he lives as a hermit in the National Park…I’ve met him, maybe twice. That was the man in the vision, but he was younger, cleaner looking. Oh my god, Gina…Gina I need to find him.”

“Please just sleep on it!” Gina said, getting up to stop Falkner. But he grabbed his overcoat and disappeared from the room, leaving Gina alone in his house with just the ominous Xatu for company.





Notes
-So this little snippet explains a bit more about Clairsentience. Some Pokemon can learn it, some can't. Starmie, being a bit emotionless, finds it harder.

-Incidentally, I think Xatu's Clairsentience is stronger than Medichams, and I think Xatu has used it several times before. Falkner has trained it well under a powerful psychic trainer.

-I also think he has tried using the power on a lot of objects but it has proved useless in learning information.

-Do you see how Clairsentience is only useful with a related object?

-I think Gina stole the card from Jake and didn't tell him. Why did she tell Falkner? Well, Gina can't keep her mouth shut. And I think she always tries to provide for people (even if its through erotic dancing) just so that she feels needed.

-Because Xatu is more competent, it was able to unearth more detail than Medi did, so we were able to see a clearer picture of what happened.

-As for poor Barry Brambles, I think he was shocked, horrified and traumatized to near-madness. When Milo met him, he weaved a tale about leaving his wife and living among the bugs. It was all fabricated; when Keadis was murdered, Barry Brambles was never the same.

-Falkner's next steps? Find Barry and identify the white-coated woman who killed Keadis.

-As for the link to Mitchelson Enterprises...while Michael has been focusing on the robberies and recovering stolen Pokemon, I think Keadis unearthed stuff about Steven Stone and pursued that thread until he learned the Johto League was funded by a lot of the criminal profits.

-If the two had met, they may have been able to put their heads together much sooner.



Next time...
Steven Stone has shown his true colours to Michael Mitchelson and unveiled the next part of his planned crimes in Goldenrod City. When Whitney and Eusine battle at the Johto League's Exhibition Match, a chance to promote the new Reclassified league, Steven plans on storming the event and robbing the Gym Leaders.

But, Steven has people keeping an eye on Michael's family. If he interferes in any form, Steven will ensure his family are killed.

After hearing of the plot from Jasmine, Morty is determined not to let the organisation succeed, and travels to Goldenrod to combat it. Michael enlists the help of Lorelei to prevent Morty from interfering, and a game of cat and mouse ensues.




This is the final part of the Golden Arc, and will be out next. Then the next chapter of Show-Off. I hope you're excited, as this is going to be quite exciting...!

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

I liked the training scene in Violet Gym, it was just a 'normal' feeling. I like that in fics when you really feel like pokemon is a daily, global thing, connected to all aspects of a routine day. Looking forward to Peliper

The plot thickens and is really going to somewhat of a confrontation, so I'm pretty siked.

Pondering on the murder too! I like Victreebel!

Xatu would be able to do a much stronger clairsentience since it's a born time-manipulator anyway. Pokedex tells us that hone eye looks to the past and the other to the future, so it's a crazy, mysterious but badass pokemon >D

Falker is going to do some silly things I think.

[Chris 2.1]

MLG: Oh yes, Pellipper will be cool Jake gets new additions to his team soon, FYI, an early draft of the Azalea arc involved Jake and Milo leaving Ditto behind when they fled from Oscar. Ditto transformed into a large boulder within Azalea Chambers to ensure Oscar couldn't follow them...

...but after you see Violet City contest, I think you'll understand why I changed it XD

Agreed with Xatu. However, I think a degree of emotion is required; empathy, helping to connect the Pokemon with the trainer. This is Medicham's strength; she has good psychic abilities and an incredibly strong bond with Milo, which helps her use clairsentience.

Falkner is going to be something of a sleuth - I think you'll like where it's going!

The next Golden Arc is probably going to either be (a) 2 parts of (b) huge (let me know what you'd prefer!) as it involves Morty trying to prevent the Exhibition Match, which Steven Stone tries to invade. Michael dispatches Lorelei to stop Morty, and we will see some good old gym battling.

Quite an epic end to the Golden Arc!




Okay guys, just writing the next part in the Golden Arc. Needs to happen before Chapter 26 for plot purposes, you see, otherwise I would have posted that next. It will make sense XD.

Furthermore, those interested in Luna and her character will be pleased that I've been developing her and am quite excited for her role in future installments.

[MeLoVeGhOsTs]

If it were up to me I'd wait and hope on a big one

[Sike Saner]

All I could think as Mia was snapping at Edgar was, Way to bite the hand that feeds, sunshine.

Her battle against Milo was pretty riveting. And the substitute there near the end was quite the surprise.

And there's the answer of just what sort of a thing it was that killed Keadis. For some reason, the possibility of it having been a victreebel never occurred to me, so that was also a neat surprise.

Re: the Golden Arc finale: I'd be fine with either, honestly, although I will say that there is a little something appealingly epic about the notion of it ending in one last big installment.

Highlights and et cetera:

He recalled them both into their balls and tucked them away as Nanette strode along happily. Her hair had been forced into two pigtails, causing the skin around her forehead to tighten and give her an alarming look.

Oh God, I pictured this--and of course my mind had to go and exaggerate the image on top of that--and... yeah. XD

Milo saw a scary looking Glalie floating effortlessly in the air; its chunky, carved body was oddly haunting, and Milo surmised that the trainer must have come from far away - Glalie would probably hate these warm climes.

Yay, a glalie. :D

I’ve pee’d like twice.

...Gee, thanks for enlightening us, Nanette. XD;

“Finally, adding some ‘wow’ to the contest,” said the MC. “A former Grand Festival champion, I give you…Meredith Mitchelson!”

Oh yes. That definitely qualifies as an "oh snap" moment.

One man had his Mr Mime run around the arena waving his hands. Nobody looked impressed, but Milo knew Mr Mime were able to solidify air with their hands, and knew the trainer had a plan.

Indeed, when Mr Mime stopped, the judges were shocked; the clown was seemingly standing in mid-air, waving. He gave a final wave of his hands and unleashed a psywave into the solid air walls he was standing on; each shield illuminated with rainbow colours of pink, sherbet yellow and stem green, and the crowd finally saw what Mr Mime created.

He stood atop a wonderful, gleaming castle, made entirely from solidified air and lit up with the psywave attack. The audience began applauding wildly as Mr Mime took a bow and the trainer smirked from the side of the stage.

Well, that was cool. :D

Thick globules of sludge were fired in all directions, even hitting Edgar in the face.

...XD

At the 2006 Grand Festival a trainer tried evolving her Eevee into a Flareon for an appeal. But the evolution went wrong; Eevee was too stressed and young to undertake the evolution. She turned a darker shade and grew slightly, but then started bleeding everywhere. It was disgusting.

D: Ouch.

But what would his mother say? Milo looked at Meredith.

“Hello son,” she said, smiling. “First of all, tuck in your shirt.”

...Pfffffffhahahaha... XD

Finally, she was revealed. Milo looked to see the skinny, iced Pokemon hovering in mid-air, appendages forming from her head as she directed the fog to create a thin layer around the floor.

And yay, a froslass. :D

Croconaw grinned happily and sunk his teeth into Flygon’s foot; he sent searing cold ice crystals through the creature’s foot and did not let go, chuckling to himself as he concentrated harder and harder.

I like Croconaw's personality. :)

“So what did you do,” Mia asked lazily, still watching the screen.

“I waited until it was fast asleep,” Nanette began, swelling with dark pride. “I picked it up and placed it in the ground. Poliwag need moisture, all the time. Usually sleep in a shallow bath. I filled the ground with dirt and soil. Bye Poliwoggle.”

Mia’s eyes widened as she heard the end of the story. Nanette’s eyes lit up with a dark spark; she looked so happy just thinking about the memory of burying her mother’s favourite Pokemon alive. It filled a hunger the girl couldn’t tame with sugary snacks.

“…Are you serious?” Mia asked.

“Deadly,” came her reply.

D: Holy shit...

“Oh, fine,” Nanette mused, her finger firmly lodged up her nose.

...Lovely. XD

“Okay, Medicham, use a fire punch,” Milo began. “But then use a psychic. Wrap the flames around you like we did in Goldenrod; cauterise your wounds.”

Medicham nodded, summoning the flames in her palms and then manipulating them with her PSI powers. They formed into a snaking tendril that span around the monkey like a flaming tyre, before growing into a cocoon shape. While the heat caused Medicham’s cuts to heal up, she fired a swift attack into the sky from within her fiery cocoon; flaming stars rocketed into the sky and exploded, entertaining the crowd.

As Medicham did this, Gallade watched keenly, his eyes focused on the flames. Croconaw was using metal claw and performing moves for the audience, entertaining them.

“Mimic!” Mia yelled.

“No!” Milo shouted, as Gallade’s free blade began to burst into flame.

He span on the spot, again and again, the red-hot blade swathed in fire as he swirled around and melted the ice on his free arm. Mia cackled in triumph as Gallade mimicked the fire punch, freeing himself from the ice.

Oh snap again!

“Fire punch! Spin!” Mia ordered. Gardevoir’s appendages burst into flames and as he span, a flaming circle surrounded him. Milo had anticipated this, however, and ordered Medicham to manipulate the fire with a psychic attack.

She pulled it towards her, grasping her fingers and flicking her wrist; the flames snaked across the arena, curling up into the air and exploding into a big shower of bright embers. The audience applauded as Medicham practiced yoga positions while she was illuminated by the stolen fire.

That was cool. :)

Emerging inches from Gallade, Medicham saw Gallade stumble in confusion and swung a punch into his back. The connecting punch threw Gallade off balance and he hit the ground hard. However, as he hit the ground, Gallade simply shattered. Milo gasped as the white creature blasted into millions of pieces before them.

He had seen this technique used before, in the Johto league. It was substitute.

OH FREAKING SNAP.

Jake could smell bread as he walked up the stairs to Gina’s bedroom; the flat was small and had a cosy, warm heat from the bakery downstairs.

That sounds awesome. :)

It was not, however, very clean; clothes were strewn around the room and Jake saw an old pizza in the corner.

...Ew. XD

[Sike Saner]

That's likely one of the most badass slowbro of all time right there.

I thought Eusine's battle style for Weezing was rather neat, and it was good as always to see one of my favorite pokémon in action.

Congrats on completing the Golden Arc. It's been great, and I'm looking forward to seeing what's to come in the main story and in the upcoming arc that was mentioned.

[Chris 2.1]

Okay.

SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT.

I have been really busy, like, so busy. This chapter has been half-written for a long time, and I made a lot of edits, changes, switches, moves.

Hopefully the plot stuff and the action will make up! Oh, and I think I can admit that there's some epic goodness in the next few chapters!

Show-Off
-XXVI-
Mai Tai

It was early, but Milo didn’t want to linger any longer. He got out of bed, leaving his hotel and going down to the beach where he spent most of the previous evening. At this time, with streetlamps still glowing despite the shifting darkness, the air was tasty and crisp. Milo could almost make out Violet City as he stared across the beach. It was higher up and not close to the water.

Medicham sat in the sand and watched Milo training Scyther. Croconaw was swimming idly, his eyes just visible above sea level, and both Magneton and Houndour were also out on the beach. The team seemed wary of Houndour, whose natural expression was that of an aggressive snarl.

Scyther flew into the air and crossed his scythes together, firing off a concentrated X-scissor towards a large rock formation on the beach. The attack smashed into the rocks and caused dust and debris to gasp into the atmosphere.

After seeing Gallade using night slash, Milo was determined to teach it to Scyther. Brief research over breakfast suggested the attack was executed by waiting for the right time to strike the opponent - it was also known as blade test. Milo came to the conclusion that night slash would only work when the foe was particularly vulnerable. This meant he had to work on identifying a foe’s weak spot before the attack would be at its best.

Unfortunately, nobody was around for Milo to battle except for the odd wild Pokemon. There were Krabby and Shellder littering the beach, and some were eager to battle when Scyther disturbed their sleep. Most, however, escaped into the water.

As Scyther used a quick attack to speed low along the sandy beach and pull up into the air, Milo watched him and wondered if he could have defeated Mia’s Gallade if he had used this Pokemon. How did the creature’s strength compare to Croconaws? Milo thought the two Pokemon were at a similar level of strength.

Suddenly, Milo’s thoughts were ruptured by a voice calling across the beach.

“There you are!”

He turned to see Mia running over to him. Her Togetic, a small, sprightly creature, flew alongside her. Meredith was standing by the edge of the sand in a designer dress, apparently unsure whether or not she should come over.

“Hi,” Milo murmured.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Mia said, smiling. “We’re going back to Goldenrod this afternoon, we wanted to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” Milo said, as Meredith walked gingerly along the sand.

“How you feeling?” Mia asked, looking into her brother’s sad eyes. “After yesterday…”

“Fine,” Milo said. “Why aren’t you rubbing it in my face?”

“I’ll do that later,” she assured him, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “But I was a bit worried. You just disappeared after the contest. Why didn’t you come to the after party?”

“There was a party?” Milo asked.

“You would have known if you’d stuck around,” scoffed his sister. “Pink champagne, goodie bags - I got loads of free makeup from Erica’s new collection. It was at an awesome bar in town.”

“Sounds fun,” Milo said lightly.

“Stop being so misunderstood,” she told him. “I’m sorry you lost, little brother, but…do you think being a coordinator is easy? You’ve lost, which is obviously sad, but I’ve lost contests. Mum has, too. But they’re different to losing a gym match, and I can tell that’s why you’re sad.”

“Go on,” Milo said.

“You train to take on a gym. If you’re strong, and you’re clever, you can beat a gym leader. If not, you won’t earn the badge. But with contests, you’re going against a bunch of different people, and they vary depending on the contest, on circumstance. Imagine if I never turned up to the contest - you might have won. Imagine if I was at Goldenrod against you - you mightn’t have won.”

“This is hardly enlightening,” Milo said.

“What I’m saying,” Mia said. “Is that you can be a good coordinator and still lose. You’re appeal was incredible, Milo, and you are a good battler. You just weren’t…you just didn’t…you just couldn’t.”

Milo looked at his sister, who seemed exhausted from her explanation. He had to admit she had a point; Milo was frustrated at losing when he felt his standards as a coordinator were better than ever. Really, the fact he had lost to Mia - though it was frustrating - wasn’t the issue at all. It was that his goal was no closer to his grasp despite all his hard work.

“Earning a ribbon is a sign that your relationship and performance with your Pokemon is stellar,” she reminded him. “To have a single ribbon is an incredible feat. It’s not like you’re running around collecting Easter Eggs, here - it isn’t as linear as that. You have three ribbons, which means you’re an incredible coordinator.”

“I suppose it’s not meant to be easy, getting into the Grand Festival,” Milo admitted.

“So that’s your goal now?” Mia said, smiling.

Meanwhile, Meredith had made her way across the beach - Milo spied her expensive shoes lying abandoned in the sand nearby. She gave Milo a one-armed squeeze and kissed him on the forehead. Mia looked away, disinterested.

“You were brilliant,” Meredith whispered. As she chatted to her son, Mia distanced herself, walking along to the waters edge and murmuring something about her Lanturn.

Medicham was meditating by the water’s edge, staring out across the sea. Milo’s other Pokemon were elsewhere on the beach, some sunbathing but others, like Scyther, watching his master carefully, barely moving an inch.

“How are you feeling?”

Medicham looked to see Mia and gave her a fleeting glare. But there was something in her gaze that evoked empathy in Medicham, and she unfolded her hands and sat back down. Mia sat down next to her and stared across the ocean.

“Me and mum are going back today,” Mia explained. “And you guys are staying around for a bit, I think?”

Medicham nodded.

“Look,” she said. “When I saw you battling yesterday, I thought you were incredible. You moved so gracefully and you’re so beautiful, Medicham. It made me think about what you’ve been through…losing your daughter in that fire when I tried capturing her, and going through the death of William…

“And I remember when he died, Dad suggested I trained you. I said no - you weren’t soft and fluffy, pretty and sparkling like the Pokemon I wanted to train. I feel like I rejected you…so you went to Milo…and I feel bad for that. But he has raised you in a way I never could, he’s really helped you mourn William and become this really strong Pokemon.”

Medicham looked at Mia as she spoke, seemingly touched by her words.

“I’d have never trained you the way he did,” she admitted. “And…I look forward to seeing you soon.”

She got back up and dusted the sand off her dress, smiling at Medicham for a moment. Medicham gave a curt nod at Mia and stared back across the ocean as Mia joined Meredith and the two prepared to leave Cherrygrove.

“All the best for the next contest,” Meredith said, kissing Milo on the cheek.

“Thanks,” Milo said. It felt nice having his mother embracing him, cuddling him, congratulating him on his work. She had never enjoyed the more vicious Pokemon battles he got involved in, so for her to be supportive in any capacity was touching.

“Listen, one last thing,” Mia said. “When we were at the party, that Nanette Babcock turned up. She had obviously been drinking a lot, and she looked hideous. Just…keep an eye on her, will you? She kept talking about how handsome you were and that she knew you and her had a close spiritual connection.”

“We definitely don’t,” Milo said, pulling a face.

“I guessed,” Mia said. “Just…be careful with her, ok?”

Milo and Mia said their goodbyes - as when they parted from Olivine, it was awkward. Milo tried to kiss his sister on the cheek and nearly head butted her; she ducked under him and tripped on the sand. Meredith assured her son she would phone him when they were back at Goldenrod, and next thing he knew the two were off back along the sandy cove.

“What did she want?” Milo asked Medicham. She shrugged, using her psychic to lift a clump of sand in the air, staring at the grains as they dripped like water from her grasp.

Milo trained for the rest of the morning, but didn’t want Medicham over-exerting herself. Scyther was practising his aerial attacks, improving his accuracy while he was airborne. Milo ordered Magneton to fire off a thunderbolt, while Scyther had to avoid - while in the air - and fire off a slash attack to strike Magneton. The training proved useful; Magneton was not hurt by the slash attacks due to his tough metal surface, and Scyther’s aim in the air had become much better.

After recalling all his team except Medicham, Milo walked through Cherrygrove and decided to move out his hotel. In hindsight, he hadn’t really used it much, but Cherrygrove had been sunny and pleasant - there was no need to stay inside. Grabbing a pastry for breakfast, Milo got a papaya for Medicham, but she merely picked at the flesh and ate a mouthful before declaring herself full.

“Can you even get obese?” Milo asked, as they walked upstairs to their room. Medicham just shrugged, apparently having never pondered this.

They packed up everything from the hotel room, with Medicham’s psychic coming in particularly useful - and Milo handed his key back in at the desk downstairs. Hopefully the drive to Violet would not be long, and he could see Jake and Falkner soon.

Milo made his way to the car, which was parked beneath the hotel, and almost dropped his bag in shock. The car was completely destroyed - the tyres slashed, the glass shattered, and the bonnet opened. Milo ran over and saw the engine, with its wires and cables, completely destroyed. It was charred and burnt,

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Milo screamed. “Who did this?”

“Everything ok?” said a voice.

“Someone’s ruined my car!” Milo snapped.

The man, who was quite tall and thin, came over from his car to assess the damage. Although he was several years older than Milo, there was a boyish air about him, and he was even smiling as he looked at the destroyed car.

“Quite a wreck,” he said. “Have you got any enemies?”

“I don’t think so,” Milo said, shrugging.

“Do you need a ride anywhere?” the man asked.

“Violet City,” Milo muttered, but the man gasped.

“I thought you were going on an errand, sorry, I don’t intend to drive all the way to Violet!” he said. “Sorry lad.”

“It’s okay,” Milo said. He would just have to walk to Violet City then. He was angry that Cecilia’s car had been ruined - her gift to the boys to help them escape Azalea Town had been wasted.

“My name’s Jared,” he said, shaking Milo’s hand. Milo noticed he had soft hands, which surprised him.

“Milo,” he replied.

“Well Milo, let’s go to the police station, we can report the damage,” Jared said.

“No, it’s okay,” Milo said. “You go on ahead. I’ll deal with it myself.”

Once Milo saw the man leave the car park, he pointed to the car and ordered Medicham to use her clairsentience on the wreck. Being able to read the surface memories would help them find out who or what caused the damage, and they could solve this mystery themselves.

“If you get any strong feelings, hold my hand,” Milo told his Pokemon, as she traced the car with her fingers, eyes closed. She ran them across the engine and the charred bonnet, moving along the slashed tyres and trying to sense the presence of anyone who may have interfered.

Milo could see it was proving to be difficult.

“You okay?” he said, as Medicham stepped back. “No luck?”

Medicham shook her head, looking somewhat confused. Milo wondered why Medicham’s ability wasn’t working; surely someone had to make contact with the car to destroy it? How did the car have no surface memories on it whatsoever? With Medicham unable to get results, Milo decided they would go and report the damage.

“Come on,” he said. “Thanks for trying.”

They walked through the underground car park together, but Medicham paused as she placed her foot on the first step. As she looked across the low room, she felt something like uncertainty creep over her. Something wasn’t right here, but she left with Milo nonetheless.

From the rafters of the car park, a creature opened its large, yellow eyes and watched the pair leave. A shadowy figure got out a telephone and pressed it against their ear, watching Milo and Medicham leave.

*

In a cool clearing on Route 36, Falkner fastened his cloak around his neck. This leafy path to Ecruteak City was narrow and windy, so the breeze was strong here. Pidgeot, who flew Falkner here from Violet City, perched in a large tree.

“Stay here,” Falkner said. “Circle the National Park and keep an eye on things, I might need you.”

He walked into the Route Gate; it was early morning so few people were about. A security guard, sitting behind the counter, murmured ‘good morning’ as Falkner walked past. There was no bug-catching contest on today, which meant the park was very quiet. This suited Falkner very much.

As he walked through the park, adorned with colourful flowers and beautiful fountains, Falkner found it hard not to be taken in by the beauty of the park. He felt confused after seeing the vision the previous night, but it settled him to know he had been right, sort of.

He always felt, for whatever reason, that he knew his father had been murdered, even when he was told by coroners the man had suffered a heart attack. Seeing the violent manner in which his father met his death was sickening, and it didn‘t leave Falkner‘s mind as he walked. In his last moments, Keadis was scared, panicked and alone, and that filled Falkner with a dull ache that would not go away.

Nearby, a young woman was sitting on a park bench with both a child in a stroller and a Furret. She was enjoying some fruit when Falkner approached her.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Do you know this park well?”

“I walk my daughter here every morning,” she said simply, looking into Falkner’s troubled eyes.

“Do you know a man named Barry Brambles?!

“Oh!” she gasped. “Bug-Eyes, yes. He means well, poor fellow, but he’s stark-raving bonkers. Always urinating on Pokemon to try and ‘claim’ them, I think he’s lived here for some time.”

“Where in the park does he live?”

“Oh, beyond the railings, in the deep,” she said, pointing across Falkner’s shoulder. He turned to see the high mesh fence ripped apart in a small corner, leading to a dark and gloomy path winding further into the park. “But…I wouldn’t go.”

“Why?” Falkner asked.

“It’s hardly safe, he spends most his time antagonising wild Pokemon,” she said.

“Well, it is urgent,” Falkner admitted, but the woman gave a patronising laugh.

“More urgent is the matter of life and death,” she sniffed. “Good day.”

As she pushed the stroller along the park, Furret bounded on ahead, standing up straight to assess the area at every opportunity. The child gurgled and giggled at the creature’s curious actions. Falkner gripped his Xatu’s Pokeball and walked confidently towards the mesh fence.

During his journey, he had thought long and hard about how he would find Barry. This was, after all, a large park, and even if Barry really had been living here for a long time, he would no doubt have several places where he lived, wandered and hid.

Releasing the bird, who emerged perfectly still without making a single noise, Falkner asked Xatu to scan the area to see if Barry had been here. One of Xatu’s eyes began to move around, but the other stayed still. As Xatu looked in the past for footprints, fingerprints and traces of Barry, he projected them into Falkner’s head, so Falkner was overwhelmed with pearly-white manifestations of Barry, all wandering around.

One was urinating in the flowerbed, while another ran along with a similar ghostly apparition of a Hitmonchan. Falkner understood that Xatu was showing Falkner where Barry had moved and when - the brighter the essence of Barry, the more recent.

The brightest, which similarly had more detail etched into his face, was walking through the gap in the mesh fence. Falkner ran to look at him, and his face matched the man in the vision. This was the man he wanted to see. As Xatu flapped up into the air, Falkner could see the memory of the man wandering deeper in the forest, and squeezed through the mesh fence.

Once he passed the darkened perimeter of the darker trees, Falkner felt a chill down his spine. It was cold here. He chased the memory as it walked through the woods, sometimes moving his lips as if talking. At one point, the memory sat in a tree for a while, and with no way to speed things up, Falkner had to wait. He kept wanting to talk to Barry, but remembered he was not real.

Soon, the man’s footsteps carried him down a steep ridge, where a man lay asleep on a thick bed of leaves and branches. Falkner gasped as Barry Brambles lay before him, a camel-coloured coat draped over his sleeping form. Xatu stopped projecting the memories, and all the ghostly apparitions disappeared.

“Barry?” Falkner said He walked slightly closer, calling his name again.

It took several attempts before Falkner roused Barry, but once his eyes were open, he leapt to his feet, grabbing a Pokeball from his pocket. Barry looked tired, with his eyes sunken and dry. It felt strange seeing him in real life - Falkner felt oddly close with this man.

“My name’s Falkner,” he explained. “I’m…my dad was friends with you. His name was Keadis?”

“Keadis? Never heard of him,” Barry said. “But I’m surprised you found me, kid. This is the darkest area of the darkest part of the wood.”

“I have good…” Falkner began, before realising it was difficult to explain how he got here. His utterance faded, however.

“I expect you want some help finding a rare bug Pokemon?” Barry said, buttoning up his dirty shirt. “I’m available for hire, if the price is right.”

“No, I need to speak to you about Keadis,” Falkner replied. “My father. He died in this park.”

“Preposterous,” Barry said, though he pronounced the word slightly wrong. “I roam these parts, and I’ve never seen a dead body.”

“You were there, I know it,” Falkner insisted. “My father, Keadis, he was killed by a Victreebel.”

“Victreebel don’t live here,” Barry replied. “No, no, you’re wrong.”

Falkner suspected Barry had been driven slightly mad by the murder, but he seemed to live a self-contained existence.

“How long have you been here?” he asked Barry.

“I have roamed these woods since my wife left me,” he said. “I used to sell bikes for a living in Ecruteak City.”

“My father knew you from Violet,” Falkner pointed out. “And you came to Goldenrod City together before his death. You must remember this?”

“Sounds like someone’s had their head filled with nonsense!” Barry laughed. “The sap in these trees do warp the mind, but there’s little else to eat, you see.”

It was like going around in circles; Barry had no idea of his life before Keadis’ death, he was a recluse in his own head. Falkner toyed with showing Barry the Membership Card, but it felt so severe, so instant, it would be very distressing for him. Luckily, he had a Plan B.

“Would you care for a battle?” Falkner asked, getting a Pokeball out.

*

There was a gentle rumbling as the waves crashed on the shore. Milo sat on the beach, staring out to Violet City, thinking hard about Cecilia’s car. It hurt to know someone had destroyed the car given as a gift; Milo hated himself for letting the car out of his sight for a second. It was a sacrifice to ensure the boys could get away from Oscar, and now it lay beneath the hotel, useless.

On the subject of getting back to Violet City, Milo thought Medicham might be able to teleport him there. While teleporting over long distances was often dangerous, Medicham might be able to make three trips across the route. It was something to consider, anyway.

“Sup,” came a familiar drawl. Milo looked as Nanette walked over, slurping a large orange slushie. Nanette looked quite rough; if Mia was right that she had drunk a lot of alcohol the night before, she seemingly had little sleep. Her hair was standing on end, looking ruffled and damaged. Her clothes didn’t look fresh, either.

“Oh, hi Nanette,” Milo said lazily. He didn’t have the energy to entertain the girl today, and was pondering Mia’s last words. Nanette perched herself down next to Milo and wiggled her bottom into the sand. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not in the mood for…well, anything.”

“I heard about your car,” she said, drawing a rude image in the sand and speaking in a lazy tone. “That totally sucks.”

“How did you know about that?” Milo asked sharply.

“Oh, everyone knows,” she replied, although Milo could see pink patches in the girl’s cheeks.

“I didn’t report it to the police, how would you know?” Milo said, his voice rising. He was in no mood to be nice to Nanette; she was annoying, and frankly she smelled of stale alcohol today.

“Shut up,” Nanette snapped. “I saw it in that parking lot. I was there looking for you.”

Milo clicked his tongue and stared across the sea. He wasn’t surprised at her behaviour; she had probably waited by his car to make sure she got a ride to Violet City. Nanette’s loud slurps punctured the silence, and when Milo continued to keep to himself, the girl fumbled with a Pokeball to release her short, stubby Vileplume.

Angry though he was, Milo couldn’t help but look at the inky blue creature. It’s petals - normally big, swollen and full of pollen, were short and thin, a pale tomato red in colour. The beetle-black eyes of Vileplume looked small and crinkled. It truly was pathetic looking.

“Princess,” Nanette said to her Pokemon. “The sun is shining! Use synthesis.”

Vileplume screwed her face up and concentrated hard, trying to feed itself from the sunlight. Milo was used to this technique - his Exeggutor was adapt at photosynthesis. As Vileplume tried to absorb the rays from the sunshine, Milo thought about his own grass Pokemon, and how he had disturbed them as an Exeggutor colony.

He had been outside Violet City following his successful win of the Zephyr badge against Keadis, and was training Elekid’s fighting attacks when he irked the cluster of Pokemon. One swept into his stomach; it was like being hit by a football. Another blasted spores in his face while a third bit his ankle. Milo captured them, but didn’t realise all six came together.

Since then, they had been a formidable part of his team, but Milo had not learned much about evolving Pokemon through evolution stones. It was only when he was making his way to Blackthorn City, for his final badge, that someone pointed out how fat and swollen the egg cluster was, and that they were more than ready to evolve.

It had been a blessing in disguise; once they merged to form the coconut tree Pokemon, they had an excess of power, and secured many victories for Milo during the Johto league.

But this creature, which had clearly evolved too early, was grunting and heaving as it tried to feed from natural light. Milo also noticed an unpleasant smell in the air; evidently Gloom’s potent fumes hadn’t properly developed into sweet fragrances.

Looking across the sandy bay, Milo saw a boy training a Bayleef, and realised that this was no stranger. It was Christian Dior, a flamboyant punk Milo met in Goldenrod City. They hadn’t got on with each other well; Dior had thrown hot coffee over Milo’s face after he pushed in front of a queue, but seeing him made Milo leap from his spot and run over.

“Hey!” Nanette said, as Milo brushed sand from his buttocks.

“Dior!” Milo called. He wasn’t sure why the sight of the boy was as compelling as it was - maybe spending time with Nanette, and being away from Jake made him feel a bit isolated. Maybe it was just a thrill to see someone familiar.

Dior stood, a hand on his hip, as Milo got closer. He wore tailored denim shorts and a black vest; Milo could see a thick, twisting black tattoo on the boy’s shoulder, winding down his arm. His two eyebrow bolts shimmered from the sun.

“Well, well, well,” he said, smirking. “It’s Milo Mitchelson.”

“Hey,” Milo said coolly. “Training?”

Bayleef stomped over; the leaf on her head was longer and slimmer than the males; it twisted down her head like a ponytail. She pulled a face as she saw the trainer that defeated her before.

“Yup,” Dior replied. “Sorry about your contest loss. It was a real shame, your appeal with Magneton was beautiful.“

“Thanks,“ Milo said. “How come you didn’t compete?“

“I came to Cherrygrove for a mini-vacation. I thought I’d watch a contest, get a feel for it here, then compete in the next one, in two weeks time.”

“Yea, good idea,” Milo said. “How many ribbons do you have?”

“Two,” Dior said, looking slightly upset. “Competed in a couple since Goldenrod, but it’s like I’ve hit a wall, you know?”

Milo nodded; this was how he felt.

“Coordinators have to get better, and better, and better…but it’s not an even slope we’re scaling here. I dunno, I feel kind of bummed out by it. And I saw you battling Mia, and it made me think about how I would fare. Her Gallade was incredible.”

“I didn’t even know she had one,” Milo admitted.

“Look,” Dior said, running a hand across his shaved head. He seemed to enjoy a brief flicker of pleasure from it. “I need to give all my battlers a good stretch. You probably do, too. Let’s have a match.”

“Three Pokemon each,” Milo said, as he delved into his pocket. Dior gave a nod and pointed for Bayleef to walk forward. She took a deep breath and puffed her chest up, staring at Milo as he got the only red and white Pokeball from his roster.

“Magneton!” he shouted, throwing the ball forward. As the bright flash illuminated the beach, Milo couldn’t help but smirk - Magneton resisted all the attacks Bayleef could use, and his accuracy was excellent. He would be able to take on Dior’s Bayleef, even if she was one of his strongest Pokemon.

“Nice,” Dior purred, as the magnet sparkled with gold and silver. “Bayleef! Start with a razor leaf.”

Milo watched as Bayleef swung her neck and sent a sweeping cloud of razor-sharp leaves flying through the air. Magneton gave a high-pitched, tinkling croon Milo understood to be one of content, and he flew right into the onslaught of leaves bravely.

They scratched and connected but did little damage; Magneton cart-wheeled into the sky and crackled before unleashing a bolt of lightning down at the grass type. Bayleef was struck, wincing as her muscles twitched.

“Good!” Milo said. Magneton carried out his instructions and, once the damage was dealt, he cart-wheeled back through the air, causing pops and bangs. Dior looked impressed at the creature’s natural theatricality, but Bayleef was cross.

“Go for seed bomb!” came the command. Bayleef cried her name and fired a barrage of seeds into the air. They soared up, near to Magneton’s spot, and as Bayleef withdrew two vines and slammed them into the sand, the seeds all burst into small explosions.

Magneton was caught in the blast and thrown backwards, but he quickly span back and regained his composure. In retaliation, the creature built another static charge and fired a piercing bolt through the air. However, as it neared, Bayleef extended her two slender vines and wrapped them tightly around nearby spires jutting from the beach. As she was struck, she conducted the electric current into the outcrops, negating the damage.

“Excellent!” Dior said, as Bayleef grinned through the shock. She unwrapped them and threw them together as if they were a pair of hands in a round of applause; their contact created a loud crack and a resulting shockwave that sped through the air and struck Magneton.

“We have our own sonicboom,” Dior told Milo. “Like it?”

“Loathe it,” Milo replied. “Magneton, use your own sonicboom.”

Magneton floated up, concentrated hard and unleashed a thicker, louder snap through the air. A resulting rush of concentrated sound struck Bayleef and threw her across the arena. She hacked up a cloud of toxic spores, but they floated lazily around Magneton, failing to work.

“So not only does he resist many attacks,” Dior said. “He also has no skin. So spores, leech seeds…they’re not going to cut it, are they?”

“Nope,” Milo replied.

“Bayleef, grab him with your vines!”

Milo watched as the vines sinewed through the air. Magneton swept left and right to avoid them, blasting quick but weak jolts to try and scare Bayleef. She soon ensnared him, however, and let her two vines wrap and tangle around the creature’s units.

“Supersonic!”

A grotesque screeching rattled through the air; Milo and Dior found it mildly uncomfortable, but for Pokemon if was torture. Bayleef screwed her eyes shut and her grip loosened on Magneton; he throbbed with energy before releasing a shock wave all around him. The sparks banged and split, causing a web of electricity to sweep out around Magneton.

Milo wasn’t concerned with hurting Bayleef, but he wanted to strike her. Even if the could conduct electricity (being on a beach certainly helped), the attack would still irritate and throw off her concentration. While she re-adjusted herself, Magneton span through the air, his units pulsating silver and a glow took over his body.

Soon, the silvery blur tackled the grass Pokemon - she was too slow to avoid the Gyro Ball. As Bayleef fell to her knees, Magneton flew back into the air and scoured the area.

“Another sonic boom!” ordered Dior. Bayleef nodded and cracked her vines together, startling Magneton. All-too-soon she ensnared him with her vines again, but before Magneton worked out a counter-strategy, Bayleef started to swirl her vines above her head, dizzying Magneton.

“Now, launch!”

Grinning, Bayleef used her vines to hurl Magneton through the air like a Frisbee. He span through the air, smashing into a rocky outcrop that jutted from the sand. Milo gasped as dust swirled around the point of impact, and poor Magneton clattered into the sand.

He ran over to assess the damage, and saw his Pokemon covered in scratches. Jolts of electricity spat from his body- he looked very hurt. Looking up, Milo assessed the distance Bayleef had hurled him, and, as he was quite heavy, it seemed to have been too much for him.

“You did a good job mate,” Milo said, getting the Pokeball and recalling him. Dior was chuckling to himself as he stroked Bayleef’s neck fondly. Without really thinking, Milo grabbed the Great Ball from his belt and expanded it, noticing the scratches and welts in the surface. It really was old.

“Houndour!” he cried. Materialising before Bayleef was Milo’s latest capture, the fanged hound. He was shorter than Bayleef, considerably so, but was more athletic, more ferocious. Bayleef eyed him carefully, re-adjusting her footing in the sand.

“New?” Dior asked, running a hand over his shaved head before resting it on his hip. Milo nodded, pointing at Bayleef.

“Close-up flamethrower!” he said. Houndour let out a bark and bounded across the sand as flames curled around his fangs. He got faster and faster, before leaping up into the air, bearing down on Bayleef and unleashing a searing jet of flame down at her.

Bayleef dived left and the flames scorched her side; she swung her leaf around and sent a flurry of sharp leaves heading for Houndour, but he bounded out the way. As Bayleef gasped, catching her breath, Houndour leapt onto one of the rocky formations and surveyed her.

“Bayleef! Vine whip!” Dior said. A vine swung out at Houndour, but he simply leapt to avoid it. Milo was impressed with his quick reflexes, and supposed his size helped. With an almighty belch, he launched a concentrated fireball that smashed into the sand.

Bayleef charged for Houndour, swinging her leaf as she went. Houndour leapt left and right, evading the onslaught of sharp projectiles, but as he landed, Bayleef tackled him with all her might. Houndour rolled across the sand but was undeterred.

“Another flamethrower!”

The jet of fire was a brilliant meld of scarlet and gold; Bayleef was struck in the chest and fired a barrage of exploding seeds into the air. A pair of vines flew out to try and ensnare Houndour, with one managing to wrap around his waist. Houndour yelped as he was hoisted off the ground and slammed into the sand violently.

“Ember!” Milo cried. Instead of focusing his fiery breath into a concussive blast, Houndour spat rogue flames across the arena, scaring Bayleef. She was not an agile creature, so evading the quick assault was difficult.

Milo watched as she leapt onto a rocky outcrop and spat a number of seeds into the ground. They were small, but a very vibrant green. Milo recognised them from his match in Goldenrod - the infamous leech seeds.

They sank among the grains of sand peppering the beach, nowhere near Houndour. He was busy leaping onto a nearby rock formation, to better aim at Bayleef. She caused the leaves around her neck to throb with energy, and as she did, Milo wiped his brow as the sun felt more intense.

Was it just his eyes, or were shoots emerging from the sand? As Houndour aimed a scorching jet of fire at the foe (it missed by a fraction), vines started sprouting from the ground, wiggling like eccentric snakes. Dior was grinning, his eyes locked on Bayleef.

Houndour saw a slew of vines whip up and sweep towards him; he leapt from the rock he was poised on, landing deftly in the sand. Seconds later, more vines burst from the ground, whipping around his ankles.

A growl, a bark and a jet of fire; Houndour scorched the vines with a precise flamethrower, and ran along the arena away from Bayleef. She whipped her own vines out, however, and lashed him hard. Milo noticed his thick, rib-like protrusions along his back seemed to help him resist physical damage near his body.

“Leap up and turn!” Milo said. Escaping more vines, Houndour leapt into the air and turned his head. He unleashed another jet of flame that missed Bayleef by a fraction - Milo was concerned at his lack of accuracy. Nevertheless, the dog landed, aimed squarely for the creature’s chest and struck her.

“Good!” Milo cried. Bayleef swung a slew of razor leaves sweeping through the air, but Houndour ran out of the way. Milo felt his forehead throb with the sun, and wiped his brow once more. It was this heat that gave him an idea, and he got Houndour’s attention with a sharp click of his tongue.

“Fire a jet of fire, and run around that outcrop,” Milo said. Houndour nodded, and a searing jet of flame burst from his jaws. He ran along the arena, forcing flames into the sand. Milo’s idea was to heat the sand up, limiting Bayleef’s movement. When she realised the heat was not conducting into the various bergs of rock along the beach…

“Bayleef, keep moving!” Dior said. Bayleef nodded, jumping along the hot sand but finding it increasingly uncomfortable. She gave a sharp cry and leapt to a cooler spot, but Houndour’s frantic flame-spewing soon caused the whole arena to throb with heat. Milo clenched his toes into the sand - he could feel it, too.

“Move onto the rock!” said Dior, causing Milo’s heart to jump with excitement. Houndour was standing ready, and as Bayleef leapt up onto the rock, the black dog fired a powerful jet of fire to strike her. As the flames connected, Bayleef screamed as she was hurtled out the air, slamming into the scorching sand.

Dior grabbed the Pokeball and held it at Bayleef; a red beam shot out and hit her, pulling her inside. Milo was whispering encouragement to Houndour, who was looking particularly satisfied with his victory, as if he ate a particularly good meal.

“I could go all type-advantage on your ass,” Dior purred, looking at two different Pokeballs in his hand. “But that’s boring.”

“You’ve had a big weakness to fire,” Milo said, thinking of his Pokemon. “Bayleef, Sneasel, Venonat..”

“I’ve more than that,” he snapped, throwing the ball into the air. “GO!”

Light burst from the ball as it span into the air. Milo watched a slender form emerge; from the powerful tail to the heavy body and flared hood. It’s scaly, purple body was vivid, while the markings near its face were twisted and grotesque.

“Arbok!” Dior said.

“Okay Houndour, hit it with a flamethrower,” Milo said. Houndour fired off the flames, but Arbok twisted out the way, before shooting down a shower of shimmering barbs. They jousted into the sand as Houndour bolted left, right, left again.

He ran up a rocky formation and launched himself towards the snake, but Arbok kept close to the ground, crossing the sandy arena effortlessly. His winding tracks left wiggles in the sand. Houndour barked in quick, loud bursts; he seemed to do this when he was frustrated.

“Rear up! Strike!” Dior yelled. Milo watched as the snake rose from the ground, hood flared, eyes glaring at Houndour. Houndour growled, but as he was about to strike, Arbok dived, sinking his fangs into the dog’s side.

“No!”

Houndour, wincing in pain, spewed embers out from his jaws and struck Arbok in the side, but as he pulled away, he swung his tail around to smash into the dog’s small wound. Houndour rolled along the ground, looking worn out.

“Faint attack!” Milo ordered. Houndour nodded, getting to his feet and racing along. His thick, padded feet pounded the sand as he became nothing more than a blur. Arbok watched as Houndour re-appeared with a heavy tackle.

Milo commanded a fire fang, and smiled as fire swirled around his creature’s mouth. While Arbok twisted and recovered from the attack, Houndour sank his flaming fangs into the foe’s tail, causing Arbok to let out a furious hiss.

As Houndour ran full-pelt along the arena, Arbok firing more poisonous barbs, Milo considered using a fire spin attack to keep the snake away. But as he saw it’s intricate moves, he realised it would be able to avoid it quite easily.

“Use Will-O-Wisp!” Milo said. Houndour looked confused, standing there with his ears pricked, making sure he heard his trainer correctly. In that time, Arbok’s thick tail swung around and connected with his side; Houndour yelped as he fell into the sand.

He obviously didn’t know it - Milo remembered helping Ruby the Arcanine use it, and thought he should work on that with his new Pokemon soon. Houndour got back up, but Arbok fired a mud bomb, sending exploding clumps of soil at him.

“Keep it up!” Dior said. More soil flew through the air; Houndour crouched low and zipped to the right, avoiding it. Milo saw he was tired, and would recall him soon, but he needed to deal another good, solid hit before his job was done.

“Go for a flamethrower!”

Houndour nodded, blasting the flames through the air. Arbok was struck, but it was a minor blow; he snaked out the way and sped along the ground, wiggling. Milo was shocked at how quick Arbok was, and surmised that its defence was probably low. But thanks to its speed, creatures like Arbok were adept at avoiding damage.

The trick was to combat their speed in order to strike them. But Arbok snaked behind a rock as Houndour fired another flamethrower, avoiding any damage. He then fired a barrage of poison stings, peppering Houndour with the sharp spines.

“Tuck your head in!” Milo shouted. Houndour did, and the pins clattered against his rough, bony back. These toughened bones, formed from excess skin hardened over time, were not as sensitive. Having seen where Arbok was, Houndour charged in the direction with his head tucked down, enduring the poison sting onslaught.

He ran up the rocky outcrop and leapt from it, bearing down on Arbok as flames built around his mouth. Arbok was struck by the scorching jet of flame, but as he was hit he swung his thick tail again, hitting Houndour and throwing him away. Milo saw him hit the ground awkwardly and decided to recall him.

“Come back,” he said, shooting the Pokeball beam at his dog. Houndour had been a strong, persistent Pokemon, and Milo knew he could get some wins under his belt with this creature on his team. As Arbok slithered back to Dior, Milo grabbed the next Pokeball from his belt.

“Scyther!” he called, as the ball burst open. His mantis flew high into the sky, wings outstretched and buzzing. While Medicham might have been the most sensible choice against Arbok, Milo wanted to use this chance to train Scyther, as he wanted to enter him in the Violet City contest.

“Arbok, poison sting!” Dior shouted. Scyther twisted in the sky, avoiding the sharp pins, and drew a blade back before unleashing a white-hot blade of energy. Arbok dived.

“Go for silver wind! Aim it at the sand!” Milo said. Scyther flapped back, turning his scythes and unleashing a spiralling vortex of sparkling wind that whipped around the arena. As it struck the ground, flecks of sand whipped up around Arbok, blinding him. The silver wind continued to shine and strike.

Arbok screwed his eyes shut as the sand flew around him, giving Scyther the chance to sweep down and deliver a slash and quick attack combo. He flew back up into the sky, scythes glistening as Arbok collapsed.

“Arbok!” Dior cried. His body was covered in cuts; Scyther had effortlessly slashed across the snake. As Dior recalled Arbok, Milo mused on who he would use next - Sneasel, perhaps?

“Scyther is stronger than ever,” Dior noted, putting the Pokeball away and plucking a new one from his pocket. “When I fought you in Goldenrod, it was incredible. Now, even more so.”

“Thanks,” Milo said.

“Now, I could use Sneasel and completely wail on him,” Dior pointed out. “But he evolved recently, and as you know, sometimes evolution can make Pokemon unwell. Sneasel is adapting to his new body as a Weavile, and isn’t battling for a while.”

He arched his arm back.

“But someone else is. GO!”

Milo saw the ball burst open and, in a flash of light, a purple moth emerged. It was Venomoth - the evolution of Venonat, and Dior’s former prized appeal Pokemon. He was large, with thick, flaky scales across his wings. He had an odd smell.

“Venonat evolved, but he isn’t as beautiful,” Dior said, pulling a sour face. “I wasn’t sure what to do with him, so I thought I’d test his battling skill out.”

Milo nodded, before pointing at the creature. He ordered Scyther to use a quick attack, and he sprang up into the air, sweeping across the beach.

“Stun spore!” said Dior. Venemoth flapped his wings, conjuring up a thick cloud of sticky mustard-coloured spores. Scyther soared through the air and kept away from the spores, but upon seeing this, Venomoth flapped his wings and blasted the spores at Scyther.

Luckily, the agile Scyther avoided being hit by the spores, twisting through the sky and unleashing another thick blade of energy down at the moth. Venomoth darted along, keeping low to the ground and emitting a curiously thick, rattling noise.

“Fine!” Dior said. “Venomoth, spread your spores all along the sand! Poison, sleep, paralysis!”

Nodding, the moth began flying across their makeshift arena, his wings twitching as a variety of spores fell to the sand. They were all kinds of colours - stem green, a deep purple and the mustard spores from before. A scarlet coloured spore was also peppered among the arena.

Milo looked at the patchwork quilt of spores that blanketed the arena, and understood Dior’s tactic. Instead of striking Scyther with spores, he wanted to knock Scyther out the sky and onto the sand, where he would succumb to a variety of ills.

“The red spore is a deadly one,” Dior purred. “It evokes a red-hot itching, a burning sensation. Very painful, unbearable, even.”

He commanded Venomoth to use an energy ball; the moth built up sinews of green energy that were shaped into a sparkling, swirling orb. Scyther was high in the skies, surveying the scene below. Milo wondered if he was going to try and suss out how to dispel the spores.

Venomoth chirped and blasted the energy ball; it fizzed and flew through the air, but before it got close enough to Scyther, it exploded in a fantastic cloud of green light. Scyther was caught in the blast and was hurtled out the sky, but he managed to pick up flight again.

“Damnit,” Dior said. “Venomoth! Hit him with a psybeam!”

Milo looked as Scyther blasted a silver wind through the air; a twisting column of sparkling, gritty wind hammered into Venomoth and hurtled him across the battle field. Venomoth managed to blast the beam of rainbow-coloured light right into Scyther's chest.

He flapped down and landed on a rock formation, watching as Venomoth created another energy ball. Milo ordered Scyther to do nothing, and just wait with his blades drawn. He wanted to use Scyther’s blades to both block and deflect attacks, and this was excellent practice.

Venomoth launched the energy ball, and as it flew through the air, Milo ordered Scyther to destroy it. He let out a long shriek, flapping his wings as he stood stationary. A brilliant bug buzz whipped out from his body in a cracking shockwave, striking the energy ball and forcing it back at Venomoth as it exploded.

“This isn’t tennis!” Dior barked Scyther kicked off from the rock formation, taking to the skies again.

“Scyther, slash!” Milo ordered. Venomoth saw Scyther sweep forward with incredible speed, and was effortless to stop his close-ranged slash. Screeching, Venomoth dropped from the sky and thudded into the sand, sending a flumping cloud of spores into the air.

“Venomoth is immune to his own spores,” Dior pointed out. The moth flapped into the air and tore after Scyther, who flapped his wings and climbed higher into the sky.

Milo watched Venomoth chase Scyther; the mantis span in the air, throwing a curved blade of energy which missed the foe by a fraction. Venomoth ducked, veered up and fired a psybeam into Scyther’s back. It was like a vicious dogfight.

“Silver wind!” shouted Milo. Once more twisting mid-flight, Scyther summoned a vicious cyclone of sparkling wind. Venomoth flapped around it, before blasting another beam of vibrant, pink light. Scyther climbed steeper, steeper…

“Slash!” Milo shouted. His blade glowed, and Scyther threw his appendage down. The slash began to strike Venomoth, but he split into several copies, releasing a buzzing shockwave from different angles. The Bug Buzz hit Scyther, but it dealt little damage.

“Silver wind!” Milo cried. Twisting, Scyther sent a sparkling cyclone at the clones, ripping them apart. Venomoth might be able to fly at high speed, but he wasn’t fast enough to deceive with a double team. To prove his point, Milo ordered Scyther to do the same.

“Venomoth, aim a psybeam for the eyes!” Dior said, seeming nonplussed. The bright beam sparkled, shooting through the air, but Scyther managed to evade by blending among his clones. Higher in the sky, he surveyed the foe and prepared to strike.

“Skull bash!”

He went into a steep dive, blades by his side, skull tucked in. Venomoth looked up to see the beast sweep down, and fired off a psybeam. Scyther met it head-on, forcing himself down and smashing into Venomoth. The force threw the moth into a rocky outcrop, knocking him out.

“Yes!” Milo cried, as Dior recalled his Pokeball. “I win!”

“This is bullshit,” Dior snapped, putting the Pokeball away. Milo’s enthusiasm was cut short; he didn’t know what to say. Dior slouched around the sand, kicking a mound with his foot.

“Sorry?”

His single utterance fluttered out into the silence and lingered. Dior turned back around, staring at Milo. He hadn’t noticed how cold the boy’s glare was - Dior had quite narrow eyes, but beneath that, they were a brilliant blue.

“It’s not you!” he said. “It’s me. Venonat evolved, and he isn’t cute anymore so I don’t to appeal with him. But he can’t battle effectively, he doesn’t have the power. I tried making him cute for appeals, but a healthy Venomoth is one that has flaky scales, watery eyes, and a shrill cry. It isn’t right for appeals.

“Still,” he said, smirking. “It was a good fight. Your team is getting strong.”

“Thanks,” Milo said. “You did well, too.”

“Not well enough,” he sighed.

“Look,” Milo said. “I lost in the finals of the Johto league last year. That hurt a lot more than losing a sparring match.”

“I’m fine, I’m fabulous,” sniffed the boy.

“Good luck in Cherrygrove,” Milo said.

“Good luck in Violet” Dior said, as he walked off. “At least you don’t have to worry about competing against your sister in any more competitions before the Grand Festival.”

*

Milo sat on a bar overlooking the beach. It was late afternoon, and the sun had started to retreat. It was cooler, so Milo wore a sweatshirt as he drank a beer, deep in thought. He had to get back to Violet City, but wasn’t sure how he’d go about it.

The teleporting idea seemed good - Medicham had been relaxing all day to prepare for it - but Milo was worried it might go horribly wrong. He had already checked out his hotel, and his small suitcase was sitting by his side.

“Fuck it,” Milo said, draining his glass. He fumbled with the clasp on Medicham’s Pokeball and she emerged in the bar. As she formed, the barman cried out at the sight of a Pokemon in his bar.

“No Pokemon!” he cried. “Get out!”

“We’re leaving, you twat,” Milo replied, as he left the bar and walked onto the beach with his friend. Medicham couldn’t suppress her smirk at Milo’s remark, and together they weaved a path through the sand.

“Okay, this looks like a good spot,” Milo said. “Medi, we’re going to teleport across Route 30 to get to Violet City. I’m just not sure how else we can get back in time for the Violet City contest. So I have drawn a few markers on this map - do you remember the journey here? The first point will be about a mile out from the city - near that cave mouth by the lake. Remember?”

Medicham nodded slowly, closing her eyes for a second to think. Milo smiled, gripping his suitcase in one hand and holding his friend’s hand with the other. As he took a look across the beach, he saw a lumpy figure running towards him.

“Wait,” he told Medicham.

The figure was panting - gasping, even - clutching a large bottle as they lumbered along the sand. Milo quickly identified the figure as Nanette Babcock, and let out a sigh as she waded over.

“Milo!” she gasped. “M-Milo!”

“What do you want? I’m about to leave,” Milo said irritably.

“No!” Nanette cried. “This is all wrong! I’m so sorry!”

“What are you on about,” Milo said.

“The car!” Nanette was in tears, clutching what Milo saw was a bottle of port.

“You destroyed it?” Milo said, seething. “Nanette!”

“No! I didn’t!” Nanette wept. “It was a trick, I tricked you!”

Milo raised an eyebrow at the girl’s remark, but he quickly grabbed her upper arm and nodded at Medicham. In a flash, they were teleported from the beach and instantly taken to the basement car park. Milo knew his grip on Nanette was strong, but he didn’t let go.

They looked around the dim room, and already Milo could see the ruined car that once belonged to Cecilia. Nanette ran forward to it, and Milo followed.

“Come closer,” Nanette whispered. Milo saw, from a dark corner, a figure emerging towards them. There was a gentle clip-clop, and a Girafarig showed its face. It looked quite young; it was a much lighter yellow than the one Milo battled in Ecruteak city. It’s legs and tail were gangly.

“What’s going on?” Milo asked. Nanette stroked the creature’s slender neck and whispered to it; Girafarig’s horns throbbed, and the car began to warp and twist before them. Milo gasped as the scratches faded, the tyres fluffed up with air and the screen began to repair itself.

“It was all an illusion,” Nanette said sadly, as Girafarig undid it’s magic. “I…I knew you were going back after the contest and wanted you to stay for a bit. I thought if you thought the car was destroyed…”

Milo ran his hand along the smooth surface of the dark red car. It was okay, it was working. Girafarig had warped reality in the same way Stantler had done in Ilex Forest. Maybe that was why Medicham couldn’t trace the object with her clairsentience? If the illusion involved bending light to distort reality, it’s entirely probable that it interfered with both the mental and physical aspects of Medicham’s power.

“I was so jealous when I met you in Olivine,” Nanette said. “You had only just met Jake, but after the contest he became your travelling partner. You guys became good friends - I saw you at Goldenrod, but you didn’t see me - if I had made more of an effort in Olivine, maybe we would have been friends. Even… lovers?”

“Nanette, what are you on about?” Milo said. It was becoming increasingly evident that Nanette had been keeping an eye on him for a while, and that he was oblivious to the whole thing was slightly unnerving, Nanette looked hungry, manic, her eyes wide and her hands trembling.

“We’re meant to be together!” she cried, seizing the front of Milo’s shirt. “I-I know it! I’ve never felt this way before!”

“Get off me!” Milo snapped, pushing her. Nanette was horrified as she looked at Milo, her lip trembling, her forehead shining with sweat. For a brief moment, she looked dangerous, but it disappeared quickly as tears filled her eyes.

“You can’t manipulate people like this,” Milo said firmly. “I thought my car was ruined.”

“Forget that!” Nanette said. “It was stupid - I was stupid! But think about how connected we are!”

“We’re not even connected! We apparently met in Olivine, which I don’t remember! And it sounds like you’ve been following me around, spying! I don’t like feeling like I’m being watched. Please, leave me alone. I don’t want to speak to you any more, Nanette.”

Her mouth moved but she failed to produce sound. Nanette’s flapping lips made her look like a big fish.

“Y-You can’t leave me!”

“I can do whatever I like,” Milo said. “Now get out the way. I’m going to Violet City.”

Nanette suddenly changed; her sagging mouth and tear-soaked face sharpened, her brow became stiff and her features tightened.

“Fine. Go. You just go to the next town, fucking random girls, pretending you like it. Nobody will ever love you like I do! Luna won’t love you - she’d laugh at someone like you, she’s so pretty and beautiful. You think you’ll ever have a chance with her? Don’t make me laugh!”

Milo frowned; Nanette knew Luna, was she being honest? Maybe Luna would be horrified at Milo’s string of conquests, maybe she’s far too mature for that…

“In fact, in fact! Go and ask her for a date. Boy, I’d love to see that. She’d put you in your place,” Nanette said coldly. Milo took the insult and ignored her, bustling past the girl as he got into the car.

Folding her arms, she watched Milo get in the car and start it up as Medicham put the suitcases in the boot. She got in the passenger side, shooting a steely glance at Nanette. Milo put the car into gear and moved out the underground car park, ignoring Nanette as he went. The car went up the ramp and soon, they were out on the street.

“That girl was just… crazy,” Milo gasped, as he steered the car through the quiet Cherrygrove. “Still, back to Violet now, are you looking forward to seeing Jake again? Feels like ages.”

Medicham nodded, her hand hovering over the radio. The dial whizzed and whirred, eventually landing on Goldenrod Radio.

“I won’t miss that crazy bitch,” Milo said, jerking his thumb behind him.

Still standing in the parking lot, Nanette choked back tears as she watched Milo leave.

*

Falkner had borrowed Gina Gourmante’s Ivysaur when he made the trip to the National Park. Excited, Barry released his Hitmonchan, who seemed to have limitless energy. Falkner sent Ivysaur out into the middle of the woods.

He had thought Barry might have trouble remembering Keadis’ death. The mind can shut down to protect against traumatic events. As Ivysaur charged towards Hitmonchan, the Pokemon leapt to the left, but staggered and tripped into a tree.

“An excellent job, Captain Zero!” Barry cried. “Now, comet punch!”

Hitmonchan swung a punch, but Ivysaur leapt out the way. Falkner wanted to have Ivysaur use his vines and leaves to trigger Barry’s memory regarding the incident. But he had to time it correctly. Ivysaur tackled Hitmonchan again, his thick, broad skull dealing great damage.

Fist crackling with sparks, Hitmonchan raced along the forest and swung his fist into Ivysaur. The creature felt sparks course through his body, but made no sound, instead firing off a barrage of exploding seeds. Despite Barry’s poor battling skills, Falkner was impressed when Hitmonchan swung his fists into the oncoming seeds, deflecting them.

“I haven’t had a battle this vigorous since I fought the president!” Barry cried, ordering a sky uppercut. Ivysaur turned on his heel and ran across the forest to avoid Hitmonchan’s deadly uppercut. Falkner knew the time was right to start his plan.

“Vine whip! Grab Hitmonchan!” he said. Ivysaur summoned two thick vines from the flowering bud on his back. They whipped around Hitmonchan, binding his arms to his side. He tried to wriggle free, but Ivysaur lifted him off the ground.

“Good!” Falkner said.

“A-A clever ploy!” Barry cried. “But I’ve fought on the mightiest oceans, the hottest planets! This is nothing!”

“Razor leaf, barrage!” Falkner said. Ivysaur sent sharp leaves sweeping up into the air, where they slashed and cut at Hitmonchan’s face. Barry watched, engaged in the match, but Falkner saw his expression change. As the relentless storm of leaves struck his creature, Barry’s eyes lost their focus briefly.

“Keadis…” he gasped, his mouth sagging.

“You reme-

“NO! HE‘S DEAD!” came Barry’s raw scream.

His face whitening, Barry staggered back into a tree, staring into nothing, absorbed by his memories as they came flooding back. He saw Keadis get struck by the deadly leaves of Victreebel, his screams, the thick dollops of crimson littering the forest… this forest…

“Barry!” Falkner said, as he turned to run. “No! I’m here to help!”

“KEADIS! NO!” Barry screamed, running. He tripped on a thick root jutting from the ground, but when he fell, he simply broke into a series of sobs. Ivysaur lowered Hitmonchan and watched cautiously as Falkner ran over.

“It’s okay! My name’s Falkner, I’m Keadis’ son!” Falkner said, bending down next to him. Barry was hysterical, his curled fingers gripping his sallow face.

“He died! I saw him die!” Barry said. “He knew too much, they wanted him dead!”

“Who?” Falkner said.

“Oh god… oh god! I’ve been here, wallowing, living in a dream!” he yelled. “Where is my wife? How long has it been?”

“Listen, it’s okay,” Falkner assured him. “This is why I found you, I know my dad was murdered. You can help me figure out who did it, we can find them!”

Keadis buried his head in his hands. Falkner decided to get up, and stepped back to let the man compose himself. His whole world had come crashing around him, he probably needed to sort his head out. How must it feel to suddenly remember an entire life lived, to realise he had been a mere husk of a man.

“Look… I know this is a shock,” Falkner said. “But let’s leave the forest. I have a house, you can stay with me and rest up, you need to eat. Get your strengths up.”

Barry got to his feet, gasping, drained from his crying. Falkner led him through the woods, wondering how his father would feel about him recruiting his old friend. Barry would be able to explain, illustrate what happened… everything was going to be okay.

Falkner recalled Ivysaur, but Hitmonchan walked alongside the man. He was shaking.

“I suddenly remember it,” Barry said. “He was killed so violently, I saw it with my own eyes. Keadis knew something crucial.”

“Look, everything’s going to be okay.” said Falkner.

“Thank you,” Barry said, managing a smile. “You look like your father. And you’re filled with compassion.”

“I just want to make sure he didn’t lose his life for nothing,” Falkner told him.

He nodded, but the quiet forest suddenly erupted in gunfire. One, two, three heavy, thick bangs rang out in the woods and Falkner saw Hitmonchan collapse in a shower of blood.

Barry gasped, but before he had a chance to help his Pokemon, two more shots were fired and he fell to the ground with a lurching gasp.

“BARRY!” Falkner gasped.

He looked around. He could see a figure in the trees, but they were cloaked, difficult to distinguish. Barry clutched his chest, eyes fixed on his dead Pokemon. Falkner quickly pressed against the nearest tree, but as he shielded himself from view, he felt a stabbing guilt as he left the dying body.

Mere minutes away, Barry lay raw, on his own, in the middle of the woods. Every fibre of his body told Falkner he should be with the wounded man.

“Barry?” he said, his voice a soft whisper to the dying man. “A-Are you…?”

But it wasn’t so. Barry was clearly dead. A voice - that of a woman - rang out across the quiet woods.

“I’m not trying to kill you.”

“Wh-why did you kill Barry?” Falkner said, as the figure emerged. It was a woman, wearing a coat buttoned to her throat. She was dressed in black, and had the gun at her side.

Falkner couldn’t move, frozen as he locked eyes with the woman. She was young, slender, with vivid orange hair. As she examined the dead Barry, Falkner realised he knew her from somewhere.

“I should have killed him when I murdered your father,” she said thoughtfully, and Falkner realised he had seen this woman in the Membership Card’s chilling memory. She commanded the Victreebel to kill Keadis… this was her. Feeling came back to him in a hot swoop, and he ran at her. However, she held the gun out, causing him to freeze once more. Playfully, she pressed it into his chest. It hurt.

“Don’t make me shoot you, too,” she said, forcing the gun into him and steering Falkner towards a large tree. “After all, you want to avenge his death, don’t you?”

“You… killed my father!” Falkner said, his cracked voice sounding more disappointed than angry. The woman calmly pulled a thick, sodden rag from her pocket and stuffed it into Falkner’s mouth. Panicked, he daren‘t resist.. He gagged for a moment, tasting a strong alcohol on the scent.

“Victreebel,” the woman said, as the plant gave a grunt from the overgrowth. “Can you help.”

Victreebel was wriggling, but as it moved, Falkner felt sleepy, and realised something in the rag was making him drowsy. Thick creepers wriggled from the earth at the base of the tree, some ensnaring Falkner’s ankles while larger ones wrapped around his stomach like thick snakes, trapping him to the tree.

“Better than rope; they’re living organisms,” the woman said, referring to the creepers that bound Falkner in place. “Their roots go far underground; very durable.”

Falkner’s eyes began to droop, and he vaguely remembered the woman saying her name. He knew he wouldn’t remember it.

She wasn’t there anymore; Falkner wove in and out of sleep, with the strong smell of Barry’s blood rousing him sporadically. He was so tired, exhausted, he wasn’t able to process thought. He wasn’t able to feel the raw, stinging sensation of grief.

Moments later, or it could have been hours, Falkner felt the rag pulled from his mouth. He heard someone hacking into the tree, but could he muster the strength to open his eyes?

“He’s fast asleep, he’s been knocked out,” said the voice.

Falkner smacked his lips; having material in his mouth made it feel dry. He would love a cold glass of water, or even a beer…

“There’s a body next to him. Covered in maggots. Something’s picked at the flesh of a dead Hitmonchan, too.”

Who was it, and what were they doing? Something was being hacked near him. Or was he being bound tighter? Falkner longed to open his eyes, but they were so heavy, gummed with sleep… it was imperative he open them, to better assess the situation.

“I think I can free him.”

And then, he opened his eyes. A boy with bushy purple hair was using a knife to cut Falkner’s arms free. Falkner gasped as he looked around; it was dark.

“Falkner!” the boy exclaimed. He had bad scarring around his left eye and nose.

“Wh-Who are you, what?” Falkner said, looking around.

“My name’s Oscar,” the boy said, smiling. “I found you in the woods… what happened here?”

“I…” Falkner began. He tried to explain about Barry, about the murder, the young woman with the gun and the deadly Victreebel.

“I saw you go into the woods, and waited to see if you came out, but you didn’t,” Oscar explained. “I came looking for you.”

“I came to meet Barry,” Falkner said, eager to get his words out.

“Why?”

“Barry was with my father when he was murdered.”

“Murdered?” Oscar asked, intrigued. There was something in his voice that sounded content.

“I met him, and shook him out his… his… stupor. He was in a daze, all these psychological barriers. I broke them down.”

“You did? Very good,” said Oscar. Falkner wanted to explain everything, to make sure someone heard all the information he amassed.

“He was going to help me, but he was killed, and someone bound me to this tree.”

“Why didn’t they kill you, too?”

“I don’t know,” Falkner admitted. His eyes hurt, and he longed to let out tears, but his throat felt dry and cracked.

“I’m looking at the Reclassification,” Oscar explained, cutting through the last vine. Falkner staggered forward, tripping into the earth. The stench of soil and flesh filled his nose, but Oscar didn’t help him up; he continued his explanation.

“I have been wanting to speak to you for some time,” Oscar admitted. “About your gym, specifically. But when I visited Violet City, someone told me you were off trying to find your father’s killer.”

“I am! I won’t return to the gym,” Falkner said defiantly. “One of two groups killed my father. Either one of Steven Stone’s people or someone from the Johto League.”

“Or,” Oscar began. “Steven’s funding the league. These two factions can be one and the same.”

“I need to speak to Michael Mitchelson,” Falkner said. “He was working against the Stone empire.”

“Is that so?” Oscar said. Falkner nodded, but Oscar was deep in thought about Morty and Jasmine, who recovered the Porygon he had stolen in Goldenrod. Had they done so on Michael’s orders, perhaps?

“He is in Goldenrod,” said Falkner.

“Look, we know the League is financed by, and integrated from people belonging to Steven Stone’s business empire,” Oscar said. “We also know the League backed the Reclassification at the start of the year.”

“You think there’s a link?”

“I think Stone has used his power to twist the league into reforming,” Oscar explained. “For what purpose, I have no idea. But Azalea has lost its main source of economy, and other cities are suffering. You know of the raid on Goldenrod city?”

“I heard something,” Falkner replied.

“Whitney’s team was robbed. She’s refusing to come out her house, the Gym has been suspended,” Oscar said. “Cianwood and Ecruteak’s leaders were replaced. Your father was killed. Don’t you think something sinister is going on?”

“It sounds like you do,” Falkner said.

“Come with me,” Oscar said. “Once we learn more about the Reclassification, we can plan how we’ll bring down Steven Stone’s empire, too.”

Oscar saw Falkner’s fierce determination and flashed a weak smile. Together the two walked through the darkest part of the forest towards the National Park, both feeling renewed and invigorated by their partnership. For Oscar, his initial plan to question the current gym leader had turned into something else - a new ally to help his goal.

He wrote a text to Chuck, who had sent him here in the first place. Chuck had declined to come himself, but hadn’t explained why. After admitting to Chuck that he killed Eli following his escape from house arrest, Oscar felt their relationship was strained. Was Chuck trying to punish him by sending on jobs, or was he afraid of Oscar’s capabilities?

I went to see Falkner. I brought him with me. He’s fucked in the head, but he’s going to be a good ally. He knows loads about Steven Stone and his network of companies.

It didn't take long for a reply to come to Oscar; his phone vibrated into his hand, quiet enough for Falkner to take no notice. Oscar looked at the message, and was shocked to see Chuck's reply.

Fine. Stay in Violet if you need to, but promise me you'll leave Milo alone.

Oscar re-read the message, smirked, and put his phone away, choosing not to respond.


Next Chapter
Milo and Jake reunite in Violet City, but Jake is suffering an identity crisis. While Milo prepares for the upcoming contest, Jake trains under the guidance of former contest champion Christine Mountain. Gina's concerns for her career cause a serious lapse in judgement.



Notes
-So a lot happened here. I thought it was important for Milo to bond with one of his rivals, and though they aren't close, he now seems a bit friendlier with Dior

-Dior's problem with evolution is something which is a big issue for coordinators. Some Pokemon just don't look stylish...

-Milo's got some cool team changes coming up. I've alluded to evolution, but there's also a few captures. I made a conscious decision to expand his team beyond 6 Pokemon; I think Milo's going to notice a lot of coordinators have expansive teams, and he needs to develop his a lot more.

-As for Nanette, the arc wasn't quite going to end like that. I had all sorts of twisted ideas for her, but they weren't working. Her initial attack/kidnap Milo plot seemed too similar to Oscar, while thoughts of her self-harming trying to kill herself seemed too dark. I tied things up, but don't be surprised if she turns up later in the fic.

-I think she's a damaged character, and that's always so exciting to explore as a writer. She mentioned her mother loved her Poliwag more than her, so she buried it alive, and I thin there are a few twisted parts to her backstory. But in the long-term goals of the fic, Nanette isn't prominent.

-What did everyone think of Barry's scenes? I know a lot happened. I was sad to see him go, especially since he suddenly remembered so much of his past at that moment. It was like he was alive again, remembering the things his mind had shut off.

-Falkner won't appear loads, since I don't want the fic to juggle loads of plot strands, but his story, and his allegiance with Chuck and Oscar, is very important.

-I know the Chuck/Oscar thing is still shrouded in mystery, but each time will shed some more light on their relationship.

-The next contest is pretty effing cool. I've noticed, almost sub consciously, the Violet chapters have had a lot of focus on Gina. She hasn't been the main focus, but we've seen different sides to her, and I'm really happy about that.

-The Ecruteak Arc (II) is quite short, but very action packed. I can't wait to write it.

Would love some feedback guys!

[Sike Saner]

Medicham was meditating by the water’s edge, staring out across the sea. Milo’s other Pokemon were elsewhere on the beach, some sunbathing but others, like Scyther, watching his master carefully, barely moving an inch.

“How are you feeling?”

Medicham looked to see Mia and gave her a fleeting glare. But there was something in her gaze that evoked empathy in Medicham, and she unfolded her hands and sat back down. Mia sat down next to her and stared across the ocean.

“Me and mum are going back today,” Mia explained. “And you guys are staying around for a bit, I think?”

Medicham nodded.

“Look,” she said. “When I saw you battling yesterday, I thought you were incredible. You moved so gracefully and you’re so beautiful, Medicham. It made me think about what you’ve been through…losing your daughter in that fire when I tried capturing her, and going through the death of William…

“And I remember when he died, Dad suggested I trained you. I said no - you weren’t soft and fluffy, pretty and sparkling like the Pokemon I wanted to train. I feel like I rejected you…so you went to Milo…and I feel bad for that. But he has raised you in a way I never could, he’s really helped you mourn William and become this really strong Pokemon.”

Medicham looked at Mia as she spoke, seemingly touched by her words.

“I’d have never trained you the way he did,” she admitted. “And…I look forward to seeing you soon.”

Liked this moment. ^^

Milo's car not being destroyed after all was a nice surprise. And Nanette certainly remains creepy as hell.

Poor Barry. And poor Hitmonchan.

Oh, and the Scyther vs. Venomoth battle; wanted to mention that, too. Said battle was pretty darned cool. Some nice aerial action there.

[The_Missing_Link]

I liked the chapter, but I thought the way you tied up Nanette's arc was slightly underwhelming. She's a twisted, sad character and I expected Milo to blow up at her but leaving it at that was kind of a meh ending

Then again, I never really liked her all that much so I suppose it's good that she's gone for now