Chapter 20

The child lies in bed much longer than it should, aching and hungry and out of sorts. It tells itself it deserves to sleep in after the week it's had. It was already tired after what happened in the Saffron Base, and that fiasco at the hospital, and then it couldn't even sleep in Victory Road. There'd been nothing but rocks to lie on, and without any pokémon it trusted to keep watch it could only snatch uneasy minutes here and there. With the start of the tournament so close, it had to go as fast as it could. The child barely made it through before the cutoff, even with taking all kinds of shortcuts humans can't.

And now all it has to look forward to when it gets up is trying to reason with TGNM and his pokémon again. The child groans and buries its face in the pillow. Maybe it should just find some other trainer to borrow from. If their team doesn't figure out what's up for a few days... It's good at disguises, and if it mostly just battles with them... But who?

"Are you planning to lie there all day?"

The child twists around to find Absol standing beside the bed. "Absol, don't do that!" It slides to the floor and fluffs Absol's ruff with its fingers. She pretends not to notice. "Have you been waiting here the whole time? Did you know I was coming back?"

"No. I was hoping you could explain that to me."

"It's not my fault," the child says. "I mean, I didn't come back here just because I wanted to be in the tournament or anything."

Absol snorts. "I did not, Absol. I know what's important." The child sits down with its back against the side of the bed, cold now it's out from under the covers. "It's Mewtwo. He's back here again. He took all my friends away, Absol, and I don't know where he put them. I came back here to get him."

It's had this conversation dozens of times in its head, breaking the monotony of scaring off errant zubat and squirming through narrow fissures by imagining Absol forced to admit her mistakes and apologize. Now that she's actually here, though, it doesn't feel triumphant. It doesn't want to talk about this at all. The child looks down at its hand, idly making the skin lighter, then darker again. It conjures up a patch of scales that glint pearly rainbow-colors, but Absol's still watching. It leaves the game at that. "Absol, did you hear what he did?"

"Yes."

It's such a calm, simple answer, like Absol thinks nothing of it. The child snaps, "Did you know he was going to do that?"

Absol blinks. "No."

"Do you have any idea what he's like, Absol? He's mean and he's bossy and he's horrible, and he doesn't like me at all and he's always making me do what he wants even if I don't want to, and he's messing everything up." It waits for Absol to say something, to defend the clone somehow, but she stays quiet and inscrutable. "I thought we were supposed to work together, Absol. I thought you said we both had to help get Mew back."

"You do."

"But Mewtwo doesn't want to! He wants to do everything by himself, and he won't listen to me at all. And then he goes and does stuff like killing all those Rockets and--I'm not saying it's a bad thing, I don't like Team Rocket, but..."

Absol tips her head to the side. "You're not saying it's a bad thing?"

"No! But it's stupid. Now Team Rocket knows there's something up, and the League's getting involved in it, too. He didn't have to kill all those people or destroy the base or anything. He just did it because he wanted to, and it caused all kinds of trouble. He's going to ruin everything."

Absol makes no comment. The child looks down at its hands again, rubbing its fingers together. What was it even expecting? Anger? Absol almost never gets angry. Denial? Even if she disagrees, she probably doesn't care enough to say so.

"I don't like him, Absol," the child says to the floor between its feet. "I have to rescue him so I can get my pokémon back, but I don't want to work with him anymore."

"He is your brother."

"So? He says we're not related anyway. He says I'm worthless."

"You're not worthless."

"I know." The child wave an exasperated hand. "But he doesn't think so. I don't care if he's my brother or not, he's awful and I hate him."

"He is the only one capable of restoring your mother."

The child rubs out a spot of dirt on the floor with its toe. "Did you know about him, Absol? Did you know he was going to be like this?"

"No." Absol turns her stare to the wall. "It's troubling."

"Was it supposed to happen like this, Absol? I mean, with everything being... bad?"

"What happens must happen. It is neither good nor bad. You know this."

"Yes, but--Absol, what do you mean, it's troubling? Is it that shadow mirror thing again?"

She turns back to the child and butts her head against its shoulder. "No. Not for you. I will speak with your brother. Now. You said you came back here because of him. Where is he?"

"The Champion has him again, I think. Sabrina got him--he was fighting some Rockets in Saffron City, and then she came in with a whole bunch of other psychics and he couldn't get away. Can you find him like you did last time?"

Absol paces around in a circle. "I will find what I can. You can go home, if you like. I will come to you once I figure out what's going on."

"Actually... I was going to enter the League Tournament. Because if Mewtwo gets put away somewhere, the only time we might get to see him is when he fights."

Absol stops roaming and looks at the child, very still. She's not going to like the rest of this, but: "So will you fight in the tournament for me? Please? I'm going to be a pokémon, too, and that Rocket guy you met before, he's going to be the trainer, and if we make it all the way to the finals, we can make the Champion use Mewtwo against us and then just grab him and teleport away before anybody realizes what happened!"

Absol's silent for long seconds. "I will try to find Mewtwo. You should wait somewhere safe."

"No, Absol, come on! You can investigate as much as you want, I'm just saying help me out when I have to battle. Or... or when the Rocket has to battle, I guess. Please? Please? It won't take much time! And I don't want to sit around at home all day. This way we have a back-up plan in case we can't get Mewtwo from the Champion otherwise."

"You know what I think about you participating in the tournament."

"Please, Absol? At least think about it? If you see a way to get Mewtwo back right away, we can do that and leave, I promise. But if you don't, will you help me?"

"I will find out what happened to your brother," Absol says. "And you would be wise to go home."

And of course she walks out then, before the child can even start to protest. It's so stupid how she just leaves an argument if she can't win.

The child draws its knees up to its chest and stares at the wall. Well, it's out of bed now. The clock's running on towards noon. It might as well get on with things.

It sighs and braces a hand against the bed to push itself up, its muscles flaring with aches. First, it should go see how TGNM's doing. There's no way he'll be grateful for the child saving his life again, but it has to at least try to make him see reason.

The child stumbles around in an out-of-sorts daze, throwing on the human's body along with some clothes. In a few seconds you're TGNM again, or what he used to look like, anyway; hopefully people will still believe you're brothers.

You sigh and grab TGNM's pokéball belt off the nightstand, cinching it around your waist. You're all argued out already, and Absol isn't even half as hard to talk to as that stupid human.

He'd better not give you any more grief. With the mood you're in, you might just change your mind about killing him.

---

"I thought he just had a cough!" You can't think of anything else to say as you lean against the edge of the hospital bed, staring down at TGNM. He looks weird and washed out under the hospital lights, a mask over his face and monitors huddling close around his bed.

"Well, pneumonia, yes," says the doctor who brought you in. "Thankfully it's responding well to antibiotics. Unfortunately, his condition is complicated by sepsis, and there's not much we can do for that besides try to keep his fluids in balance and wait to see if he pulls through."

Of course TGNM would get septitis or whatever. That's exactly the kind of thing he'd do. "Well, how long until he gets out of here?"

"There's no way to know yet. If he recovers enough to leave the ICU, it will likely be several weeks before he's ready to be released."

"Weeks?" He can't be in here for weeks! The tournament starts the day after tomorrow. If he's going to be stuck in here that long, he might as well be dead. Which, actually... "Wait, 'if' he recovers? He might die?"

"I'm afraid so. Sepsis is very serious, and your brother was severely malnourished when he was brought in, which is going to make things harder for him. There are a lot of factors involved, but I would say there's maybe a 50% chance that he makes a full recovery."

You grip the bed so hard the plastic railing creaks. Just perfect. You went to all this trouble to make sure TGNM didn't die, and now he might go and do it anyway. This is all his fault.

"I'm sorry. I know this is a bit of a shock, but I was hoping I could ask you some questions. Your brother's case is very unusual, and given the circumstances under which he was admitted--"

"That was so stupid! He was not even burned or anything. Everyone was making a huge deal out of nothing." You pound your fist on the edge of the bed, then turn to the doctor when you realize he hasn't responded. He's clutching his tablet to his chest, staring at you. "I know because I am friends with Tony Flores," you say. "He told me what happened, and also that the great Nathaniel Morgan was here. That is how I knew to come."

"I see," the doctor says after a minute. He frowns and rearranges his tablet so he can write on it. "Well, the point is that we haven't been able to get a clear picture of what happened to your brother, and I was hoping you could help us fill in some of the gaps."

"He did not tell you anything?"

"No, not really. He wasn't very coherent when he was admitted, and since he went into shock we've had to keep him sedated for the intubation. Anything you might be able to tell us would be helpful."

"Fine. What do you want to know?"

"What happened to him?"

"I do not know. He was training by Indigo Plateau for a while. I had not heard from him in a couple months."

"But he ended up here?"

Oh. Right. "I guess?"

The doctor frowns down at his tablet. "Does he own any pokémon?"

"I just said he was training, did I not? He has pokémon."

"What species?"

"A mightyena, a raticate, a graveler, and a steelix."

The doctor frowns and scribbles something. "No psychic-types? Is he unusually psychic reactive? I mean--"

"I do not know! Why are you even asking me this? Who cares if he has pokémon? They did not give him septi-whatever, did they?" Or is his team infected with something? It wouldn't surprise you.

"No, they didn't. Mr. Morgan, your brother appears to have been attacked by a large pokémon, perhaps a dodrio or a pidgeot. The wounds became infected, which led to the--"

"Okay, so he got attacked. Why are you asking me about it?"

The doctor shakes his head. "His injuries were already healed. In fact, they healed so quickly that they trapped the infected fluid inside his chest cavity, and we had to reopen them to drain it. It doesn't add up--the wounds shouldn't have closed before infection like that. In addition, he shows a moderate level of psychic inflammation--"

"So he got attacked by a big bird. Um, a big, psychic bird. I still do not get why it matters."

"We've never seen anything like this before. All we know is that pokémon appear to be involved, and if there's residual elemental energy in his system it could change how he responds to drug treatments. On top of that, prolonged exposure to strong psychic emanations can lead to severe psycholog--"

"I do not know anything about it."

"Nothing? Your brother appears to have been starving. He didn't contact you at all while he--"

"No, he did not! Maybe he forgot to pack food."

"Mr. Morgan, we're trying to save your brother's life. Anything at all that you could tell us might help. Do you know how your friend, hmm, Mr. Flores, was it? Do you know how he found--"

"No! You would have to ask him. I do not know."

The doctor sighs and lowers his tablet. "Very well. I'm sorry to have upset you, Mr. Morgan. I understand that this is a lot to take in. But I must urge you, if you think of anything, anything at all, tell one of the staff. It could save your brother's life."

"Okay. Fine."

"Are you planning to stay with him?" the doctor asks.

"I guess. How long can I be here?"

"As long as you like. The ICU closes between nine and ten PM and eight and nine AM for the staff to make their rounds, but there are no other restrictions on visiting hours. We do encourage you to take care of yourself, though. Go home, rest. Make sure you remember to eat."

"Are pokémon allowed?"

"Yes, as long as they aren't disruptive and are small enough that they won't interfere with staff."

You nod and turn away, and it takes you long seconds to realize the doctor's still standing there. "Thank you," you say. Thank you for nothing.

"Of course. Don't hesitate to ask one of the staff if you have any questions. And let me personally express my hope that your brother makes a swift and full recovery."

Then he's gone at last. You stand next to TGNM's bed, fiddling with the pokéballs on your belt. The pokémon aren't going to be happy. But they probably won't believe you brought him in if they don't see it for themselves.

They come out of their pokéballs ready to fight, Mightyena rounding on you with a snarl that turns heads all around the room. A bayleef with an ID dangling from the lanyard around his neck stomps forward, looking like he's about to reprimand you. But TGNM's pokémon huddle back to back in confusion, staring around the unfamiliar room in search of the attacker they remember. One by one, the doctors and nurses go back to their work.

"Nate?" Mightyena asks, looking up at you.

Well, yes, but you don't feel like getting into that argument now. You shake your head and point at the bed next to you. Mightyena approaches slowly, keeping her eyes on you the entire time. She rears up and puts her front paws on the bed, and Raticate climbs up her back to perch on the railing.

"Wait, what the heck?" he asks, twisting his whole body around to look between you and TGNM. "If that's Nate there, then how are--you're that freaky pokémon-talking guy? But how--?"

You nod but say, "Not now. This is your chance to see your trainer. So look."

Graveler puts one hand on the bed and tilts her body back, trying to see over the edge. The whole thing creaks as she presses down on it, and you wonder what the staff would do if she broke it.

"Ooh, that looks bad," Raticate says quietly. "Like... ouch. Bad."

Mightyena stretches forward and nudges TGNM's hand with her nose, her tail giving a couple short wags. The human doesn't respond.

"I thought hospitals were just like pokémon centers for humans." Raticate hunches in a miserable ball, his whiskers drooping. "You know, except... bigger. Because humans can't go in pokéballs."

"Healing machines do not work on humans," you say. "This is the best they can do. They do it for pokémon, too, if there's something the machine can't fix."

Mightyena whines and shoves her snout under TGNM's hand, but his fingers stay slack and unresponsive. You can't see any change in the machines monitoring him.

The pokémon are quiet a long time, their silence filled with the beeping of monitors, the whoosh and click of unknown machines. Most of the other patients are passed out, but a few look blearily aware of where they are. Probably one of the nurses is going to go over and give them another injection soon, something to make sure they can't fight back, or force them to eat, or check the restraints because she almost got loose the last time, looks like the psychic fluctuations are more unstable than we thought, increase the dosage and tune the monitors to--

You swallow back bile and get a grip on yourself. You're being stupid. Those memories aren't even yours. Nothing like that has ever happened to you, ever.

Everything about this is stupid. You cross your arms over your chest and hunch your shoulders. It's too cold in here. The pokémon keep watching TGNM, but there's nothing to see. What are they expecting? That he's going to open his eyes and wink at them and tell them he was just faking all along? This is a waste of time. You need to start training. The first battle's tomorrow.

How long has it been, anyway? Ten minutes at least. That's more than enough. "We have to go," you say. "We have a lot of work to do."

"We can't just leave him here like this," Raticate says, but he sounds distraught, not defiant.

"Yes, you can. There is nothing you can do here. If you want to see your friend Steelix again we need to prepare for the tournament."

"I..." Raticate glances at his teammate. "Mightyena?"

She doesn't answer. She doesn't look over when you take the pokéballs off your belt, either. She stands with her chin resting on the bedspread, her eyes distant.

"But what if he wakes up?" Raticate asks, turning a pleading look between you and Mightyena. "If we leave and he wakes up, he'll be all alone."

Really? Oh, poor baby. You bite back a cutting remark, clamping down on the surge of anger that rises in your chest. Something of it must show on your face, though, because Raticate flinches, cowering away from you. "Return," you say, and a couple seconds later you're alone again.

You take a last look at TGNM. His pokémon act like this is some kind of tragedy, like it isn't the human's own fault he's in this condition. He'd better not ruin this for you, not after all the work you've done.

You glance around to make sure no one's watching, then lean forward and whisper in his ear, "You had better not die. If you do, then I guess I will just have to keep your pokémon forever. You would not like that very much, would you?"

It's completely irrational. Of course the human can't hear you, passed out like he is. Still, it helps. You force yourself to walk out of the room, walk out of the hospital completely. You don't hurry. You're completely calm. You don't even start to run until the hospital's well out of sight.

---

You stuff your hands as deep as you can in the pockets of your new jacket, ducking your head as wind slashes at your face. Fall comes early at this altitude, and a scatter of tumbled rocks are your only screen against the wind. Behind you, a noisy sprawl of tents and RV's and thrown-together shacks ring Indigo Town proper, battle enthusiasts overflowing across the Plateau. You're so far out you can't smell their fires, can only imagine the chatter of families gathered around their televisions, tuned in to pre-match commentary. You could be there, too, boasting about sure success in the tournament and battling with eager amateurs, but instead you have to stand out here where no one will interrupt and scrape together what to say to TGNM's pokémon.

Mightyena lies with her chin on the rocky ground, staring at nothing. Raticate huddles against her side, tail tucked tight around his legs, staring up at you with white-rimmed eyes. Graveler's staring too, same as she always does, with that utterly flat, disinterested look.

"So I took your trainer to the hospital, like I promised. You tried to get out of our bargain, but I held up my end anyway. I saved his life. I'll say it again: I want you to help me. I want you to battle for me in the Indigo League Tournament. And if you're willing to do that, we have to start training."

You can't tell if Mightyena heard you, so you focus on Raticate instead. He shrinks tighter against the dark-type's side, his whiskers quivering. "Look, I don't know, okay? I don't even know what you're talking about. Why do you want us to fight, anyway? I don't even know who you are. I mean, what you are. Why won't you leave us alone?"

You sigh and rub your face. "I need to win the Indigo Tournament because I'm trying to get Mewtwo back from the Champion. He took my pokémon away, and he took your trainer's steelix, too. If we do well in the tournament, we all benefit. And I will give you back to him as soon as he gets out of the hospital. This is only a temporary arrangement."

Raticate shakes his head slowly. "Uh, what? Look, last thing I remember there were mankey all over the place, and then somehow we're back in Saffron and Nate's sick or something and he's completely freaking out and then you're going on about Mewtwo and the League and... I don't even know. I got no clue what's going on anymore."

"All I know," Mightyena says, "is Nate never told me about Mewtwo. And the last thing I saw, you were trying to kill him. Maybe you did. The way he is now..."

"I told you, the doctor said he's going to be fine!"

"What if he's not?" Mightyena's head snaps up, her lips drawing back in a snarl. "What if you're lying? You expect me to see him like that and believe everything's going to be all right?"

Raticate shrinks down into a ball, tucking his ears tight against his skull.

"I took him to the hospital! He would be dead if not for me. And I saved him from Team Rocket, too. You know about that. You were there."

"That's what you say. That's what you claim," Mightyena says. "But the only times I've actually seen you, you were either tearing him apart or dragging him around like he's some kind of puppet. And now you're standing there pretending to be him like you think you have any right, like you think you could ever possibly be worthy of taking his name. Like you could ever come close to being what he is."

"Of course I am not like him. I would not want to be. He is mean and rude and a liar and--"

Mightyena makes a noise somewhere between a bark and a roar and leaps at you, knocking you to the ground. Your hands go up instinctively, and you grab her around the neck, forcing her head back as she struggles to reach your neck.

"Mightyena, stop!" You can't see Raticate past the blur of black-gray fur and glistening teeth, but it sounds like he's coming closer. "Nate said not to fight!"

"That's all?" you grunt. Hot ribbons of saliva drip onto your face, but you've got a good grip on Mightyena now. She can't force her head any closer. She's not that strong. "You need me to beat you up to prove I'm worthy of being your trainer?"

"Mightyena!" Raticate wriggles between the two of you, trying to shoulder his teammate aside.

"I'll never fight for you," Mightyena growls. "I don't care. Never. Take us back to the hospital."

"Come on, Mightyena. Calm down," Raticate says, claws splayed to brace himself as he shoves her.

"No. We were just there. You saw everything there is to see."

"I don't care! Take us back!"

"If you fight for me, I'll take you back tomorrow."

"Mightyena, just stop. I want to know what's going on, okay? Can you just calm down for a bit?"

Mightyena stands with chest heaving, unmoved as Raticate scrabbles and strains to push her aside. "I'm going to be with my trainer," she says, "and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

She pulls away from you before you realize what's going on, takes two bounding steps, and is gone when she hits a patch of shadow.

"Oh, great!" Raticate screeches. "Just great! Yeah, just take off and leave the rest of us here! Thanks for nothing, you--"

He jumps when you sit up, then flees as you turn to look at him, racing to cram himself under a boulder. He only makes it halfway before getting stuck, hind paws scrabbling uselessly against the ground.

You give the rat's quivering rear end a look of disgust. TGNM's team is useless, the lot of them. The only one who might have any sense is Graveler, and she hasn't exactly been cooperative. "And what about you?" you ask her. "Are you willing to fight?"

The rock-type doesn't answer, and you can't conceal a bitter smile. Yeah, just what you thought. You get to your feet, wondering where to go from here, only for Mightyena to burst back into reality. "There's someone out there," she says, staring at the shadow she just came through.

A couple seconds later Absol steps out of darkness, sparing Mightyena only the briefest glance before sauntering towards you. You let out a relieved breath. "Absol! Could you help me out? Could you tell these guys about me and Mew and Mewtwo? They won't listen to me."

Absol sweeps a cool gaze over TGNM's team. "These are that human's pokémon? The ones you said you were going to battle with?"

"Are you with that thing?" Mightyena rumbles. "Is it your trainer?"

"I have no trainer, but I know this one, yes. I apologize if it's caused you any--"

"It's too late for apologies!" Mightyena roars. "Enough words! My trainer is dying, and somebody's going to answer for it."

"He's probably not dying!" you say when Absol gives you an exasperated look.

"I don't know anything about that," Absol tells Mightyena. "Perhaps if you told me what happened, I could--"

Mightyena cuts her off with a snarl, taking a deliberate step forward with her mane all bristled up. "Come on, Mightyena, can't you listen to what she has to say?" Raticate says. "I seriously just want to find out what's going--oh, come on!"

His teammate's leap ends in a skid as Absol vanishes into shadow. Mightyena dives after her, and Absol pops back into reality a second later, only to disappear again as Mightyena comes charging after. They flash in and out of darkness, weaving between realities in a blur of black and white.

The battle plays out in strobing flickers. There Absol rakes a paw across Mightyena's shoulder; there she turns aside a blow with her blade; there she stabs it in deep, twisting her head to try and pull Mightyena off her feet. You smirk. Absol's better at shadow-walking than Mightyena; TGNM's pokémon is already bleeding, but Absol doesn't have a scratch.

Mightyena keeps coming, though, and as Absol reaches with her claws, she leaps forward in a blur of dark energy. Absol stumbles, but when Mightyena lunges forward for another attack, she recovers her footing and slams into her opponent with a sucker punch of her own. The battle becomes nothing more than a whirl of dark energy as the two bounce back and forth across the arena, trading sucker punch for sucker punch so fast you can't keep track.

Finally Mightyena gets in a lucky hit and knocks Absol over, then pounces on her in a burst of pink light, growling and biting. A fairy attack? And then Absol's pinned, her thick ruff the only thing keeping Mightyena's teeth from her throat. Absol kicks and scratches at Mightyena's stomach, but she can't get her head around to use her blade.

Mightyena's teeth glow white as she seizes one of Absol's legs and bites down. Bone snaps, a sharp, brittle noise that rings out like a gunshot in the open air of the plateau. You take an involuntary step forward, breath backed up in your throat. Super fang. You forgot, she used that on you earlier, but how does she even know it, anyway? Absol would never forgive you for interfering in one of her battles, but an attack like that, you don't have any way to recall her--

Absol doesn't make a sound. Instead Mightyena howls, letting go of Absol's leg as a blast of electricity rushes through her. Sparks dance around Absol's scythe, and she fires another thunderbolt straight into Mightyena's chest. Absol rises while Mightyena stumbles away, twitching and growling. Absol's broken leg drags awkwardly at her side, but the look she gives Mightyena is as unruffled as ever. Mightyena barks an angry exclamation and disappears.

A cold breeze teases Absol's sweat-matted coat, and you shiver, crossing your arms over your chest. Your friend stands serene, even as Mightyena reappears, even as she slams into Absol with a double-edge, pawing at Absol's injured leg. The wind rises higher, pelting Mightyena with ice and snow, and she's forced to duck away, closing her eyes as her fur grows heavy with ice. She becomes nothing more than a black smudge, and Absol disappears completely against the background of sleeting snow and ice. You shield your face with your arm, ice crystals beading on your sleeve even this far from the center of the attack.

An eerie moaning carries on the breeze, and you can't tell if it's the sighing of the wind itself or Absol's voice, lofted and hollowed out by the gale. The earth trembles under your feet, and the blizzard thins. You rub frost off your face and squint at the battlefield. Absol stands exactly as she was when the attack started. Snow lies deep on the ground around her, and Mightyena's nowhere to be seen. Another tremor ripples through the earth, and cracks appear in the wind-brushed surface of the snow, little cascades of powder sliding down the flanks of submerged boulders.

A mound of snow grows a nose and a tail as Mightyena shakes herself free, sloughing hunks of wet powder as she charges at Absol. But the ground slips from under her feet, and she falls hard, rises and falls again. The earth shivers and cracks under her paws, and Mightyena drags herself forward, struggling away from a fissure jagging across the rocks. You almost feel sorry for her. Absol's scary when she's mad.

Mightyena gets up at last, legs shaking as an aftershock shivers past. Then she turns and meets Absol's impassive stare, opens her mouth wide, and gives a huge, jaw-cracking yawn.

Absol's eyes narrow, but then she yawns herself, showing a rare flash of slender teeth. She lets out a miffed snort, then tosses her head back, sparks fizzing around her blade. You lose sight of the battle in a flash of light and a peal of thunder so loud it strikes you like a physical blow, nearly knocking you off your feet. You strain to see around floating gray-purple afterimages, your ears ringing.

Absol rests with her head between outstretched paws, one of them twisted and splayed at a painful angle. Mightyena lies in a smoking heap, snowmelt hissing and bubbling around her. In the background you spy Raticate peeking out from behind an ice-encrusted Graveler, but movement on the battlefield draws your attention away. Mightyena twitches, then rolls onto her stomach in a series of halting lurches. She sees Absol slumbering and growls deep in her throat, digging in her claws and heaving herself to her feet.

"That's enough," you say. Mightyena takes a step towards Absol, head low and jaws hanging open. "Enough!"

She throws a furious glance your way, and cold dread grips you as you realize what she's about to do. You start forward, but Mightyena's much closer. She ducks low and slams her shoulder into Absol, fairy energy dancing in the air around her. The attack rolls Absol onto her back, exposing her injured leg to Mightyena's teeth. Absol's eyes fly open as Mightyena bites down, but only for a moment. She sags in the grip of unconsciousness, and Mightyena lets her go, backing away as you come running up.

"What was that?" you demand as you kneel next to Absol. "I told you to stop!" You have revives in your bag, and full restores, too, but Absol's going to need to go to the Pokémon Center for that leg.

"You didn't have to do that," you say, and the words come out almost tearful as you run your hand down Absol's side. "She was out the moment she fell asleep. You didn't have to be so serious." She lost. Absol lost.

"You don't think this is serious?" Mightyena says. She's tense, ears forward and ready to spring. "Your absol friend is down. Looks like there's no one left to defend you.

"Mightyena! Mightyena, come on! This isn't helping," Raticate yells.

"You're going to try this again?" you ask, reaching for Mightyena's pokéball. "Didn't you learn your lesson last time?"

"What, when you recalled us all instead of standing and fighting? You might talk like a pokémon, but you're as cowardly as a human."

"I'm not a coward! I won, fair and square. If you didn't let me get near your pokéballs, I never could have recalled you."

"I dunno. Sounds to me like someone's scared. That right, Raticate?"

"I don't think this is a good idea, Mightyena. I don't, I don't think you should do this," Raticate stammers, tugging on one of his ears as he stares at you, eyes wide.

"I'm not scared!" You do want to fight her, you do, but using the pokéball is the smartest option. There's nothing cowardly about avoiding a dangerous battle.

But you could take her, couldn't you? You could take all three of them if you had to. She hurt Absol, she hurt her way worse than she had to, and you can't let her get away with that. She's just a vicious Rocket pokémon, anyway. Violence is the only thing she understands, just like her trainer.

"Oh, you're scared all right. Scared you'll lose."

"I won't lose!" She can't call you a coward. She can't say you're weak. You're strong. And you want to. You want to... fight... You want to...

"Not that I blame you. Just give up the trainer act already. Back down now, and you won't get hurt."

"Why don't you just--you just--" Why is your hand down by your side? You bring it up to a ready position, clenching it into a fist as blue light gathers around your fingers. "Why don't you just shut up and fight?"

You hurl an aura sphere at Mightyena. She leaps aside, but the attack kinks to the left and hits her anyway. Mightyena falls with a yelp, and you storm towards her, blue energy swirling in your palm.

The dark-type strains to push herself up but falls back, cringing and curling into a pained arc. For the first time you see real fear in her eyes, her ears pinned back against her skull. She tries to pull herself away, sliding across the ground in painful lurches, but in a second you're standing over her, holding the aura sphere so close to her that its light dapples her coat with brilliant blue highlights. It bursts into a confused scatter of droplets as a whirl of teeth and claws slams into your midriff, clinging to your chest.

"Idiot," Raticate gasps as he scrambles around to your back, dodging your hands. "Taunt the crazy monster thing even though you can barely stand up, that's a great idea, that's exactly what we need after everything--"

He cuts off with a grunt as you grab one of his legs, hauling him out in front of you while he struggles and squirms. You shake him until he goes limp, but as you start gathering energy for another aura sphere, he springs to life and smacks you across the face with his tail. Pure shock makes you drop him.

There's a moment of disconnect. One second you're leaning forward, fingers morphing into claws that reach for Raticate, and the next you're lying on your back contemplating the thick-piled clouds overhead. Somehow you get the feeling you should be hurting a lot, but right now, lying here watching the sky, you're at peace.

Your view is eclisped by two huge, gleaming teeth. Raticate's whiskers tickle across your face for a second, and then he bites down on your upper arm. You roar and roll over, trying to catch him underneath you, but he jumps away, then jumps again when you lash out with your hand, your claws digging furrows in the rock where he was standing. You growl and push yourself to all fours.

At least this time you catch sight of the hunk of rock before it slams into your shoulder. Then you're on the ground again, fuming. So Graveler's getting in on the fight, too? Fine. Wonderful. You'll show all of them. They're all going to pay for thinking they could beat you.

Raticate's on you again in a moment, clawing and biting and leaping away when you round on him. You make it up to a crouch, and this time you're ready for the boulder that comes sailing at your head. You swat it away, only to yell as Raticate sinks his teeth into your side. He's gone before you can even turn to strike him.

He's too fast. It's annoying.

He jumps at you again, but this time you catch him with a slashing vacuum wave and knock him away. You're expecting the rock throw, and another burst of fighting energy shatters it before it hits home. You catch Raticate mid-leap and hurl him away--but of course your follow-up's interrupted by another boulder.

It's irritating. Your shirt's soaked through with blood from at least a dozen gashes, and you imagine bruises blossoming all over your body courtesy Graveler's rocks. You don't want to stop and heal--you want to hurt--but it's a nuisance. It's a real, real nuisance. You bare your teeth and lash out with a thunderbolt that nearly, nearly hits Raticate, and as you swing around to throw another one his way, a rock catches you square between the shoulder blades.

And that's it. Raticate's already bounding towards you, but he stops and stares as you draw on ancient anger, older than this battle, older than the Plateau itself but still burning strong. Blue-green flames sheet across your body, puddling around your feet. You can't see anything but the fire flickering in the edges of your vision and the outline of your enemies, the glow of their life energy calling to you even through your wrath.

"Oh crap," Raticate gasps. He turns and runs, and you follow, your footsteps cracking stone and dragonfire glittering in the air around you. "Oh crap, oh crap. Mightyena! This is all your fault!"

You smash aside another boulder and tackle Raticate to the ground, sinking claws deep to hold him. He twists and bites and waves his tail in your face, but in your anger you hardly notice. You sink your teeth into the side of his neck, and a rush of warm blood fills your mouth as Raticate's struggles grow more sluggish. This time when he stops moving, he isn't faking.

You roar triumph, a sound that shakes your whole body as ancient voices rise to join your own. You start to get back to your feet, only to be pulled back down by something heavy attached to your wrist. Only then do you realize that Graveler's got ahold of you, trying to pull you away from her teammate.

You lash out at her, your claws digging furrows through her rocky scales and the unworldly heat of the dragonfire buffeting her face. Graveler grumbles like a landslide, but she holds fast. You hit her again and again, bludgeoning away with blind fury, but your outrage is ebbing. It leaves you with nothing but your own anger, that voice that urges you on just below the level of conscious thought, telling you to attack, attack, attack.

You try to obey, but you're tired now, too tired. Your attacks start to go wide, and Graveler grabs your other arm as the last of your flames gutter and die. You struggle as hard as you can, but she's got muscles of granite, not to mention a spare pair of arms. Her first punch knocks the breath from your body, the second feels like it cracks a rib, and they just keep coming, one strike after another in a patient, steady rhythm.

Mightyena's there. You didn't notice her get up, didn't notice her come over, but now she's standing right in front of you. She's dripping wet, her back arched as she favors some unseen injury, but her eyes are alive with anger. "This is for Nate," she growls. "No one hurts my trainer, do you understand me? No one, not even some little legendary wannabe like you."

Her words drift around in your head not connected to anything. The only thing you understand anymore are Graveler's punches, blows that shake your whole body and rattle the useless thoughts around in your skull. You strain towards Mightyena and try to hiss, but your mouth is full of the tang of fresh blood, and you bubble instead. All you know is you have to fight her, you have to hurt her.

She keeps on talking like there's some kind of point. "If you ever touch Nate again, we'll finish you. I'll finish you. And when this whole tournament thing is over and we have Steelix back, you'd better run. Because the only reason I'm not killing you now is because we might need you, maybe, for that. And that's only if Nate agrees to your stupid plan when he wakes up. So we'll fight for you, yes, for a little while, but don't you ever forget who's really in charge. We're not your friends. We're not your pokémon. We fight for Nate, the real one, always."

You would say something back, maybe something about how she should shut up and let you punch her, but all you can make is some kind of spit-gargling sound in the back of your throat. Mightyena seizes your shoulder, her teeth grating over your collarbone and lodging deep in straining muscle. It's hot and pain and then cold, cold as darkness spreads from Mightyena's teeth, seeps through your veins, fills up your vision and your mind until it swallows all and you are no more.