Electric Sheep

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As a contrast to Striaton and Nuvema, Nacrene was considered by native Unovans to be the beginning of civilization. It always had been one of the buffers between Castelia and the rest of the world with its rickety, old warehouses-turned-art-spaces—the ones that survived despite how decrepit they were even fifty years ago. Really, the only difference between then and now was that there were somehow more of those warehouses. Despite the fact that Nacrene City had not seen an actual factory in over a century—beyond the mass-produced hipster phenomenon in the 2010s, anyway—somehow, the little burg in its tiny crook beside Pinwheel Forest and South River sprouted an entire labyrinth of dirty, old brick buildings converted into loft spaces for tortured artists trying to find themselves.

But that part of Nacrene was off limits to the average trainer. Every Companion, Geist included, knew this, but even without a Companion, one could easily tell that the warehouses and ancient hipster relics were off-limits to the average trainer. The glassy pathway that was Route 3 fed directly into a guard’s outpost, which in turn fed directly into the High Line Pathway, and the High Line Pathway was exactly what it sounded like: a pathway built above the city, winding across its expanse. Its main features: friendly lighting, nicely maintained plants, three-foot walls leading into four-story drops, and exits only at key trainer-friendly locations and tourist spots. During business hours.

This was not, in other words, a place one would expect Door to like. Not with its contemporary grunge or its neon lights advertising every fake thing in existence. Yet as Geist led her into the city, her eyes turned down to its sprawling expanse, and she couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit of awe towards every little detail she could see from her lofty vantage point. As her eyes flicked from detail to detail, she stroked Jack absently as he purred on his shoulder, and between the vibration of his tiny body and the dim, multicolored lights all around her, Door felt … almost at peace.

“You know,” Geist said, leaning towards her, “this isn’t the original main road. A trainer had entered the city during the heyday of the old Unova League, they would have done so six blocks to the south and at ground level. Traffic was rerouted to the north about two decades ago, following the completion of the High Line Pathway.”

Door nodded, only half paying attention to what her Companion was saying. “I know.”

“Ah. Good.” Geist folded his hands behind his back. “I just wanted to let you know that this experience isn’t quite as true to the champion’s as you might like.”

“I know.”

He shot her a look. “You are listening to me, yes? Not just saying you know while failing to pay attention to a word I’ve been telling you?”

“Don’t be stupid, Geist. Of course I’m listening to you. It’s just ... weird.”

“Weird?”

Door shrugged and tore her eyes away from a storefront. “I dunno. I always thought Nacrene was the bottom edge of the crowded parts of Unova.”

“It is,” Geist replied slowly. “Turn here for the pokémon center, by the way.”

Without even a nod of acknowledgment, Door turned and began walking down a thin pathway arcing away from the thick, main trunk of the High Line. She could see the pokémon center mere blocks from her.

“Okay, so,” she said slowly, “where’s all the crime?”

Geist stopped. He gave her an awkward stare, as if to weigh whether or not he should answer her question. Then, he extended a hand across his chest and pointed to the wall, silently pressing her to look over it.

She did so. Leaning against the wall, she stood on tip-toe with one hand latched firmly on the scruff of Jack’s neck as the two of them peered down at the streets below. Beneath the ambling pathway, trash collected between buildings and against the High Line’s supports. People huddled in the darkness, in the shadows, sometimes low to the ground with their hands on a raggedy pokémon of one type or another. Younger, scrappier men ambled in the openness of the streets, shouting and occasionally shoving one another while herdier barked and howled at their heels. Women were less common sights out there, but when Door could spot them, they were almost always either walking quickly and with purpose along the sidewalks or drunkenly with male company in the shadows of the High Line. One couple spilled into Door’s view, her hands reaching down to his pants, and Door—knowing at once what that meant—pulled herself back up, pushed away from the wall, and walked away.

“Up until Castelia, think of it as easy mode,” Geist said as he fell into step behind her. “Nuvema and Striaton are safe compared to the rest of the region, and Nacrene herds you to wherever you need to be. But once you get to Castelia, it’s very easy to end up in seedier areas like what you see down there. That’s why a Companion is so essential.”

Door jammed her hands into her pockets. “Or. You know. Common sense.”

“You’ll be surprised to know how rare that actually is.”

Door cast Geist a withering look. She wasn’t about to dignify him with a response; she knew what he was doing. He was luring her into responding, just so he could counter it with some other witty comeback. It was so obvious to her. Companions had certain personality types, and if any human could detect a pattern in the way they behaved, everything they did became obvious—mere chains of actions dictated by that single fundamental personality type.

Geist, Door decided, was a smartass type. A crossroads between the comedic and intelligent personality cores, in a combination that came off as obnoxious to her but was probably hilarious to her great aunt. Door wasn’t about to fall into that. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of a response.

And soon, she had an excuse. As she and Geist approached the pokémon center, its automatic doors whirred open, and out walked the two people Door had least expected. She froze and felt her heart drop into her stomach, and all of a sudden, any banter she might have had with Geist was instantly forgotten.

The first figure she saw was the man from Accumula—the green-haired, homeless one she had battled. He looked just as weary, just as lost in thought as he had in the town square a few days ago, and when he noticed her, he glided to a stop like a ghost.

Next to him, meanwhile, was the champion of Unova, a woman Door had only watched on television and heard about through gossip at school. This was a woman Door had looked up to since she was young, a woman whose entire journey was the epitome of all the things Door thought a trainer’s career should be. This woman both saved and conquered Unova without a Companion, with real pokémon, with experiences the current Unova League could only dream of replicating. This woman was the very definition of authentic.

And her name was Hilda King.

Hilda was taller than Door had assumed she was—and a lot leaner in person too. But everything else about her was spot-on: the creases in her face; the gray streaks in her otherwise chestnut hair; the intensity in her deep, blue eyes; and even the exact shade of her blue trench coat and the fraying of her pink scarf. It was all there, in every glorious detail of the veteran trainer. Hilda stood straight, following her friend’s gaze until her eyes fell onto Door. And then, she smiled.

Smiled.

At Door.

Door was never washing her eyes again.

“Well, hello there!” Hilda said, her voice low and booming. “Seems my friend’s taken an interest in you. Sorry if he startled you. It’s his first time back in Unova, and he’s a bit of a tourist.”

Door shook her head, her mouth hanging open in awestruck silence.

“Hilda,” the man said, “this is the trainer I told you about. The one with the oshawott.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Is that so?” Turning back to Door, she stuck out her hand. “Pleased to meet you! This is N. I’d tell you what that stands for, but he really does prefer N, and frankly, I can’t blame him. Judging by the way you’re staring at me, I’m going to go out on a limb and say you know who I am, but what’s your name, kid?”

Door squeaked. Somewhere in the back of her throat, her voice was stuck, and somewhere in the back of her head, she was already kicking herself for looking like a complete tool in front of royalty.

“This is Door Hornbeam of Nuvema City,” Geist replied, motioning towards her. “I’d tell you what Door stands for, but I’m afraid my friend would kill me. I am her Companion, Geist, and this is Jack, the oshawott your friend was referring to.” As Jack saluted the champion, Geist reached out to shake Hilda’s hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Miss King.”

Hilda quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’ve got a talkative one on your hands. Don’t see too many of those in the Calliope line, but I guess whatever works for you, girl.” Then, withdrawing her hand from Geist’s, she reached out to pet Jack. “In any case, ‘Hilda’ is just fine. And if I may say so, you’ve got just the cutest little oshawott! Reminds me of Cheren’s starter, actually.”

Door stared at Hilda and decided she was not going to wash Jack either. Noticing her silence, Hilda laughed and drew herself away. Her hand dipped into her pocket, and with it, she drew out four objects. Holding up her palm, she presented them to Door. Three of the objects were tiny, blue gummy candies in the shapes of a bulb-like berry, and the fourth was a raindrop-shaped piece of glass on a short, black rope. Within the glass pendant, water sloshed, glittering in the lights of the street lamps and the pokémon center.

“Here,” Hilda said. “Take this. You’ll need it more than I do. You’ve got three chesto berries and one mystic water here. It should go without saying that your oshawott should be wearing the mystic water; it’ll boost its water magic, if you catch my drift.”

For a long while, Door stared at the objects. Was the champion of Unova actually giving her a present? The question echoed in Door’s mind as she struggled to force her body to move. Eventually, it was Geist who had to shift, accepting the berries with one hand and the mystic water with the other. Pocketing the berries, he turned to help Jack put the necklace on.

“We appreciate it, believe me,” he said. “You must forgive my partner. She’s not normally this silent, but it seems she’s in the presence of someone she greatly respects. So, in other words, she’s a bit starstruck at the moment.”

Door could have killed Geist if she wasn’t too busy still processing the fact that Hilda King had given her a power-up item for her oshawott. A power-up item that one of her pokémon must have worn at one point.

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Hilda said. “I’m not that much of a role model, though, and you certainly don’t have to be so intimidated by me. My friends are much, much better choices for people to respect than I am. Bianca, for example.”

“Ah, yes,” Geist said. “Professor Ironwood. Door works for her, actually, as her assistant’s assistant.”

Some part of Door really wanted to kill Geist. If only the rest of her would move, anyway.

“Really? Ha! Small world,” Hilda said. “Anyway, I’m not offended at all by strong, quiet types. I’ve got another friend like that, actually. Rosa Alvarado. She tends to wander around now, but maybe someday, you’ll run into her.” Hilda hesitated for a beat. “Or, actually, come to think of it, it’s more like I’ve got two friends who’re the strong, quiet type, if you count N.”

She winked at her partner, but he didn’t seem to notice the ribbing. Instead, his eyes were locked onto Door and Door alone. As soon as Hilda was done speaking, N took a step forward and looked down at Door.

“The Dreamyard,” he said.

This snapped Door out of her daze. Shaking her head, she blinked at N.

“W-what?” she asked.

“The Dreamyard,” he repeated. “Team Matrix. They were in the Dreamyard, weren’t they?”

“Y-yeah,” Door responded softly. “They were. How—”

“Did they attempt to capture a munna?”

Door nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“And did a musharna drive them away with its illusions?”

“Yeah.” Door gave N a strange look. “How’d you know?”

Throughout N’s questions, Hilda had gotten quiet. Her smile had faded, and her eyes had darkened. Now, she stared at Door sternly, and upon hearing the girl’s final answer, Hilda transferred her gaze to N.

“N, it’s okay,” she said. “Reshiram and Zekrom, they’re—”

He whirled around and stalked away for several steps until there was enough distance between him and Door to create a battlefield.

“Battle me,” he said. “I need to see how much you’ve grown since Accumula City.”

“Whoa, wait,” Door said. “N-now? In … in front of…?”

Hilda ignored her question in favor of moving towards N and reaching for his shoulder. As her hand rested on it, she leaned in. “N. Are you sure about this?”

He turned his head away from her and frowned. “We battled in Nacrene City too. Do you remember?”

Hilda stared at him for a beat, and then, slowly, her smile returned. Pulling away from him, she took a few more steps back and reached up to clasp her hands behind her head.

“Make me proud, kid!” she called to Door. “I want to see some energy out of you and your pokémon!”

Door smiled hesitantly and reached into her pocket. If Hilda King was asking for a show, she couldn’t turn her down. But how would she go about battling N without embarrassing herself? Briefly, she thought about using Jack, but she wanted to save him for a grand finale. It didn’t seem right to open with him, especially when she had one pokémon who was far better equipped to wipe the floor with whatever N had to offer.

“Scout! You’re up first!” she shouted.

With a burst of light, Scout took the field. He landed on his feet and stood tall, seemingly not at all bothered by the fact that he lacked an opponent. Clicking his teeth, he tilted his head and stared across the field. N couldn’t help but sigh at the sight of him.

“False pokémon,” he said. “They’re so quiet. So incomprehensible to me. When they speak, I can only hear buzzing.” He plucked a ball from his belt. “Pidove, show her!”

He tossed the ball in the air, and with a familiar, white light, a blur took to the sky, looped around, and swooped down. The pidove screeched and flicked the remaining light off its wings before diving at Scout. Far below, Scout blinked lazily, tilted his head, and stumbled out of the way mere seconds before one of the pidove’s wings would have clipped him in the face. Immediately after zooming past its target, the bird shot back into the air again and circled above the watchog.

“Door, be careful!” Geist said. “As a terrestrial pokémon, watchog can’t learn the sorts of distance attacks that can take down a flying-type unless you teach them via technical or hidden machines. In other words, there’s no way Scout will be able to reach Pidove. You have other pokémon that can use distance attacks, however. Jack’s Water Gun—”

“Okay, thank you,” Door replied impatiently. “Scout will be fine. Scout! Show him with Crunch!”

“You should listen to your Companion,” N responded. “Pidove, Gust!”

The bird made no effort to swoop down at Scout again. Instead, it whirled around in the air until it faced the watchog, and once it did, it snapped its wings together. A blast of wind shot from its tiny body and swirled around Scout, picking the watchog up and sending him flying back into the road. He barked once when he struck the pavement, but then, slowly, he rose back to his feet and blinked at the bird. Door gritted her teeth when she realized Scout would never get a chance to use Crunch at that rate. She had to change her strategy, and she had to do it quickly.

“Again, Pidove!” N shouted.

For a second time, the bird snapped its wings together, sending another blast of wind down onto Scout. And for a second time, the meerkat was swept off his feet and slammed into the pavement, only to get back up and blink at the bird. This time, however, his movements were jerking and shaky, and it was clear to Door that one more Gust could break her pokémon.

Her eyes trailed over the battlefield. There had to be some way to lure Pidove into diving down. There had to be something she could do.

And then, she saw the wall along the edge of the High Line, and an idea quickly formed in her head.

“Once more, Pidove!” N called.

“Scout, brace yourself against the wall!” Door shouted as she threw her arm forward.

At once, Scout dashed from his spot to the wall. Above him, N’s pidove clapped its wings together to shoot another rush of wind at Scout, but the watchog ducked, tucking himself under the lip of the wall and bracing himself against the concrete and steel. This time, the wind slammed into him, but he didn’t budge. The wall itself kept him in place. Upon seeing this, the bird fluttered overhead, swerving in frustrated loops as it chirped wildly. The corners of N’s mouth tugged downwards as he gazed at his pokémon.

“It seems we have no choice, my friend,” he sighed. “Quick Attack!”

Pidove smoothed out its flight path at the sound of N’s order. It arced up, sailing in a graceful curve high into the air before angling itself towards Scout. Knowing exactly what was about to happen, Door grinned.

“Brace yourself, Scout!” she called. “You know what to do!”

The bird shot itself at Scout. Although Door had seen Quick Attack executed in televised matches, it was something entirely different to watch it happening in real life. Pidove was a gray blur, just barely visible in the lights of the pokémon center. One second, it was hovering above N’s head, and in the next, it was low to the ground, mere inches from Scout. Her heart thundered with uncertainty in that split second. How would Scout be able to catch something so quickly? Her teeth clenched in response to that thought, and at the very last moment, she flinched out of fear.

And then, there was a screech. Forcing herself to look at the battle, she was shocked to find Scout standing calmly in front of the wall. Except … he wasn’t quite standing. His lower body was stiff and solid, but his shoulders and neck had twisted down to clamp his teeth onto the pidove’s body. The bird thrashed in his jaws, screaming and squealing as blood spurted from its back and wing, but throughout his attack, Scout remained placid. He straightened. He blinked. He shook his head vigorously once. But he didn’t react to catching the pidove, and he certainly didn’t release it.

N snapped his arm up, aiming his poké ball at the pidove.

“Pidove, return!” he called.

And so it did, in a flash of red. The moment the pidove flowed out of Scout’s mouth, his jaws snapped shut, and he blinked once again. His fangs were stained with the pidove’s blood, and realizing this, Door hesitated, reached up to touch Jack, and let her face twist in open disgust. Perhaps using Scout was a bad idea after all, but something kept her from switching him out. And that something was Hilda King’s voice.

“Not bad, kid,” she said. “Using your environment to your advantage shows you’re no beginner. Just control your watchog’s power a little better, okay? You’re not supposed to draw blood in a battle!”

Door’s heart leapt at Hilda’s advice, and she couldn’t help but grin. Hilda didn’t think she was a beginner! How could she argue against a compliment like that? So with a deep breath, she let her hand drop off Jack’s back. She wouldn’t switch. Not now. Not when she was proving herself. All she needed to do was show Hilda she could control Scout a little better.

“R-right,” she said. “Okay! I’m ready for the next one if you’ve got one!”

N turned his eyes to Door as he pulled out a second poké ball. “Hm. So you’ll stay with your watchog. Artificial pokémon … it’s true that they possess an incredible amount of power, and your watchog is indeed fascinating. But its voice…” He huffed and shook his head. “Tympole! Begin with Supersonic!”

The ball in his hand cracked open, releasing yet another flash of white light. This time, it struck the pavement and resolved quickly into a black and ivory ball: a tympole, blinking in the glare of the lights overhead. The second it appeared, the tympole opened its mouth and screamed. Ripples of air shot from its maw and washed over Scout, and to Door’s surprise, the watchog flinched. His face twisted in pain, and his paws gripped the wall behind him until the noise from the tympole finally died down.

And then, Door could hear Scout’s shrieks. High-pitched and agonized, like metal on metal. Scout twisted off the wall and smashed his head into the pavement as his paws scrambled across his head in a desperate attempt to grab at his ears.

“Scout!” Door cried. “Scout, snap out of it!”

“Door, this is confusion,” Geist said. “There are only four possible ways to cure it. I don’t have the first on hand, you don’t have a pokémon capable of the second, and the third’s too risky. You need to use the fourth. Switch him out for another pokémon.”

“I know what confusion is, and I don’t need to switch him out!” Door snapped. “Scout, you can do this! Use Crunch!”

Unfortunately for her, Scout didn’t seem to hear her. He moved, but it wasn’t to attack tympole. Instead, he slammed his head against the wall of the High Line over and over and over again.

“Scout!” Door shouted.

“I’m sorry to hurt him,” N sighed, “but it must be done. Tympole, Round!”

The tympole opened its mouth again to release another scream. This time, however, the air that rippled from its open jaws formed pale, green circles, pulsating and electric as they cut through the air towards Scout. They didn’t wash over him, as Door had expected, but rather, they slammed into her watchog’s back, as if they were solid objects crashing one after another into his body. Each one smashed him against the wall, again and again, until the tympole’s attack finally stopped. And then, Scout crumpled onto the ground, panting and whimpering as he held his head.

“Door.” Geist reached out and lay a hand on Door’s shoulder. “Please. Switch him out. He can’t take much more of this.”

Shrugging his hand off her shoulder, she shouted, “Yes, he can! Scout! Crunch!”

N flicked his hand towards Scout. “Tympole, Round again!”

Scout snapped his head up, and for the first time since the battle began, Door got a good look at her pokémon’s face. It looked nothing like what Scout normally looked like. His lips were curled back, exposing his teeth in a vicious snarl, and his eyes were wide and glowing. Every part of him was tense. Every part of him was angry.

And then, abruptly, he lunged for the tympole. The amphibian had opened its mouth again to fire off another wave of green ripples, but Scout leapt over and around these deftly, scrambling on all fours until he was nothing but a golden-brown blur on the pavement. All of a sudden, he was by the tympole’s side with his mouth open and gaping. His jaws snapped down, latching around the tympole’s body with a sickening squelch. The tympole screamed and thrashed, and a spurt of blood erupted around Scout’s fangs, but Scout didn’t let go. He held on tight, shaking his head vigorously as he sank his fangs deeper into the amphibian’s flesh. In response, Door cringed. She couldn’t do anything—couldn’t order her pokémon to stop. All she could do was watch as her watchog tried to rip the tympole apart.

So once again, N snapped his poké ball up to point it at his pokémon.

“Tympole, return!” he ordered. And then, as his pokémon was drawn back into the ball, he frowned. “I’m so sorry, my friend. I underestimated our enemy.”

Scout’s jaws snapped shut like a bear trap. Door balled her hands into fists at her side, her own anger and shock bubbling just beneath the surface of her skin.

“It wasn’t a bad attempt,” Hilda replied. “For a new trainer, this girl seems powerful. It’s just that she has to learn a little self-control, but that’s perfectly normal for someone who’s new at this.”

Door shook at the criticism. She didn’t mean to. She didn’t expect Scout to be this powerful in his evolved form, and she certainly didn’t expect him to get this emotional. But looking down at her pokémon—at the way he was still perched on all fours and at the way he shook and growled with anger—she felt a tiny splinter of panic.

And then, she felt Geist’s hand on her shoulder.

“Door,” he whispered gently. “Switch Scout out. Yes, he can still fight, but if he fights in this state, he could seriously injure N’s next pokémon. I’d hate to say it, but you’re not yet ready to calm an enraged pokémon. Recall him and use Jack instead, okay?”

She shrugged his hand off roughly. “I’m fine, okay?! I can do this, and so can Scout!”

“Door,” Hilda said.

At once, Door flicked her attention back to the champion. Hilda stared back at her with a stern, stony glare. Right away, Door’s anger dissolved, leaving only pure, cold fear at the sight of her idol staring her down not with excitement or the wise look of a mentor but instead with the expression of a parent seconds from scolding a child.

“Listen to your Companion,” she said. “Your watchog is in no state to be fighting.”

All of a sudden, everything felt cold. Door swallowed hard and pulled Scout’s poké ball from her pocket. Her pokémon hadn’t moved in those few minutes. Rather, he was still crouched low to the ground, growling and waiting for another opponent. Hilda was right; Scout was in no condition to battle. Door had embarrassed herself in front of her idol, all because she didn’t know Scout would lose control like that.

“Scout, return!” she shouted.

And to her surprise, he did. The red light of his ball swallowed him, and he didn’t fight it. He simply let it draw him off of the battlefield, and when the ball closed around him, it stayed shut. Door examined it for a second, her face twisted into a deep frown. At the edge of her peripheral vision, she watched N stride over to Hilda and hand her the tympole’s poké ball. She nodded to him, and with that, N breathed out, heaving his shoulders slowly, before returning to his side of the battlefield. The expression on his face was virtually unreadable to Door, but somehow, it looked dark in ways she couldn’t describe.

“I look forward to hearing your next pokémon’s voice,” N said. “Timburr, go!”

Door stiffened. How could N’s voice sound so calm? Didn’t he see how Scout hurt his pokémon? Didn’t he see Scout snap? Hell, didn’t he even see the way Hilda had put Door in her place? Why wasn’t he yelling at her too?

In the space between them, the light from N’s poké ball materialized into a small, child-like creature that carried a block of wood under one arm. Door knew what the creature was; it just took a moment for her to register its appearance. And in that time, the timburr twirled his block with one arm, rested it on his shoulder, and stared up at Door with a bored, impatient expression.

Geist nudged her shoulder. “Door,” he said, “he’s waiting for you to send out an opponent. I would highly recommend Jack. Huntress and Knives are both normal-types, so they have an elemental disadvantage to the timburr species. Water-types like Jack, however, are neither strong against nor weak against fighting-types like timburr. Besides, this would be a good opportunity to get Jack the experience he needs to evolve.”

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?” Door said. “I can do this on my own, you know.”

Taking a step back, Geist dropped his arms to his sides and gave her a steady, neutral glance. “It’s my duty, Door. Among other things, Companions are designed to be sources of information for their trainers. In every battle, we do our best to provide our partners with advice and analyses that may improve their chances for victory.”

“Well, I don’t need you to do that,” she hissed. “So, I don’t know—shut that feature off or something.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that. It could be useful,” Hilda said.

Door looked back at her to see her smiling. Actually smiling this time, in a gentle manner. Like a mother smiling at a child.

And right then, as she stared at the champion’s grin, something sick and cold wormed its way into her stomach.

“To be honest,” Hilda continued, “I kinda wish I had a Companion back when I’d journeyed. It would’ve made life so much easier.”

Door felt her heart twist. Her idol was actually supporting a cop out? It took a deep breath and a moment of clenched teeth for Door to gain control of her anger and push it deep down inside her—just enough for her to think. And when her head cleared, even just a little, she shrugged to send Jack onto the field.

“Jack, start with Water Gun,” she growled.

The otter trilled and somersaulted off her shoulder. Landing in front of the timburr, Jack rocked backwards, inhaling deeply as he went, and then exhaled a hard jet of water from his mouth. His attack cut through the air in seconds, struck N’s timburr in the chest, and launched him backwards. N’s timburr hit the ground with a thud, but the attack didn’t stop there. Instead, he was pushed—dragged across the pavement by the Water Gun—for a few meters while his block of wood skittered out of his hand and beyond its reach. Gritting his own teeth, the timburr snarled and rose to his feet again. In the dim light, Door could see a flash of his skinned back, and she grimaced at the thought of the injury.

N, meanwhile, regarded his pokémon’s injury with a steadily darkening expression. Yet even then, he refused to lose his composure. He refused to break down and say something to Door.

Instead, he pointed to Jack. “Timburr, Low Kick!”

“Jack! Jump over it and Tackle! Pin Timburr down!” Door shouted.

Jack crouched in preparation, and the timburr rushed forward far quicker than Door had anticipated. She had expected him to be slowed by his injuries. She had expected him to be in pain. She had expected that agony to affect him. But no, that wasn’t what happened. One moment, he was struggling to stand up, and in the next, he was mere inches from her oshawott. His foot swept down, and Jack, who was just as surprised as Door was by the timburr’s quickness, had no time to dodge. So instead, the fighter’s leg hit him hard in his back paws, and Jack fell flat on his back, dazed and whimpering at the night sky.

“Excellent job, Timburr,” N said. “Jump back and use Bide!”

With a huff of acknowledgement, the timburr did as he was told. He leapt backwards, moving until he stood next to his block of wood. Then, he reached down, grabbed it, and planted it square-side-down onto the pavement with a thud. With it as his shield, the timburr knelt on one knee, shut his eyes, and began to hum. A soft, red light ebbed from his grayish-brown skin, but otherwise, he did absolutely nothing. Nothing to strike at Jack while he was vulnerable. Nothing to bulk himself up. Nothing but kneel and wait.

Suddenly, Door felt Geist’s arms wrap around her shoulders.

“Door,” he said urgently, “listen to me. Don’t attack. Do you see that red aura? That’s an energy net. If you strike it, Timburr will absorb damage and translate it into energy to feed that net. After a certain amount of time, that energy will explode outward, and Jack will take more damage than the amount he would have inflicted on Timburr. In other words, Bide is an extremely dangerous attack, and the only way to avoid being struck by it is to not strike in the first place.”

She squirmed in his grip. “I know how Bide works!” she yelled. “I’m Professor Ironwood’s assistant, remember?! Bide’s so simple, I’ve seen seedot use it!”

“I’m just trying to help you,” Geist protested.

“Well, don’t! I’ve already got a plan!” Door said.

Then, squirming out of his embrace, she took a step forward and looked down at her oshawott. In the time Geist had been spending explaining Bide to Door, Jack had managed to pick himself up, but he didn’t look like Scout after Tympole’s first Round. Jack wasn’t calm and unshaken; he was panting. He was bent over. Door could see bruises through his blue fur. And that was all after just one Low Kick. She set her jaw and squinted first at her pokémon and then at the meditating timburr. Her plan would have to be done delicately.

“Jack, Tail Whip!” Door cried.

Without a single question, her oshawott obeyed. He jumped, turning in the process so his backside faced the timburr. Looking over his shoulder, Jack shook his hips, wagging his bulbous, stub-like tail back and forth as quickly as he could while barking rhythmically. Door looked up to watch the timburr intently, and to her relief, one of the fighter’s eyes slid open. His gaze fixed on the tail, and his tight frown wavered ever so slightly. This was it. The timburr’s guard was lowering.

“Again!” she ordered. “Give it all you’ve got, Jack!”

Once more, the oshawott wagged his lower body. He took gradual steps backwards, inch by inch, as he presented his tail to the timburr. The timburr, meanwhile, shifted on his knee, struggling desperately to focus on maintaining Bide. But a minute later, his hum became a wavering, desperate cry, increasing in volume and pitch until it grew to a screech. And then, the net gave out, bursting outward in all directions. The red light washed over Jack, but he whirled back around to face his opponent as if nothing had happened. Throwing a look over his shoulder, Jack extended one of his paws to give his trainer a thumbs up.

And then, Door couldn’t help but grin. “Jack! Tackle!”

Jack barked and threw himself forward. The timburr was too close, too fresh from Bide to dodge, so all he could do was look on as the oshawott came closer and closer. He couldn’t even throw his hands up to cushion the blow as Jack plowed directly into his chest. At once, the timburr’s legs gave out, and he was thrown like a ragdoll back into the pavement with Jack on top of him. Once they landed, Jack planted a paw on each of his limbs to pin him to the ground.

“Good job, Jack!” Door said. “Now use Water Gun!”

“Timburr, fight back!” N called. “Low Kick!”

N’s timburr squirmed beneath Jack, but the otter held him down fast. No matter how much the timburr tried to jerk one of his legs free, the oshawott kept both of them pinned to the ground. Perhaps realizing he was trapped, his eyes widened and locked onto Jack’s face, and the oshawott’s lips curled into a wide smirk in return. Jack inhaled deeply, puffing up his chest and even rising a little on all fours while N’s timburr thrashed and howled. And then, at last, Jack exhaled, spewing another jet of water directly into the timburr’s face.

“Timburr, return!” N shouted as he lifted his pokémon’s ball into the air.

Like the others, the timburr didn’t resist. He merely vanished in a haze of red light, only to be drawn back into the poké ball. The moment Jack felt his opponent vanish from beneath him, he cut off his attack, rose to his feet, and swiveled around to face his trainer. A proud smile stretched across his face, and he barked, as if to ask her for her approval. Door walked forward and bent down to scoop her pokémon up into the crook of one arm. She used her other hand to pet his back as she stood. Part of her hesitated to smile or congratulate Jack, but the other part of her was elated. Sure, she may have lost control of Scout, but this time around, she did it. Jack was perfect, and she was in complete control. She knew exactly how powerful her oshawott was, and she acted accordingly. That meant she knew what she was doing—that she could do this without a Companion and that she wasn’t just some slightly-above-rookie trainer. She was competent.

So with that in mind, she let herself smile and hug her oshawott.

“You were awesome out there, Jack. Good job,” she said.

The oshawott trilled in return and nuzzled her cheek. At this, N cocked his head and half-turned away from Door.

“Your oshawott,” he said. “He’s telling me that he’s proud to have made you happy. It’s curious, really.”

“Not that curious,” Hilda replied. “You can’t be doubting the idea that trainers and pokémon can have meaningful relationships after all we’ve been through.”

He chuckled. “No, Hilda. Of course not. I’ve known you for far too long. But…” His smile faded, and he cast a glance back to Door. “I just find it curious.”

A flicker of rage ignited in Door’s chest, and she scowled at N. “Why do you ‘find it curious’?” she asked, her last words dripping with venom.

“Although I cannot hear the voices of false pokémon, I can see how a trainer acts towards them,” N replied. “All pokémon, real or not, still have hearts. This cannot be denied. You should pay attention to them when they tell you something important, especially if it’s about how they feel. This is the only way you’ll be able to bond with your pokémon and grow as a trainer.”

“Excuse me?” Door snapped. “I listen to all my pokémon! What, is this about how Scout lost control? Because that’s not my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t,” N agreed, “but you didn’t—”

“What N is trying to say,” Hilda interrupted, “is that one of the most important things about being a trainer is being aware of both a pokémon’s physical and emotional states. It’s no use trying to force a pokémon to battle when it’s struggling to control its emotions. Your watchog might have been ready to battle physically, and sure, I’m certain it was ready to rip another pokémon apart, but in that kind of state, it’s entirely uncontrollable. When your watchog lost it, you couldn’t guarantee that your commands would get through to him, and he could have done serious damage. You did a lot better with your oshawott, but that’s because you’re in tune with him.”

She walked forward, her posture and expression relaxed and forgiving. Door didn’t move; she merely furrowed her eyebrows as her idol approached her and reached for her oshawott.

“May I?” Hilda asked.

The champion didn’t wait for a response. In the next moment, she pulled Jack out of Door’s arms and into her own, and she cradled the oshawott in one arm like a baby. Her other hand drifted up and began rubbing Jack’s stomach, which elicited happy barks and flailing limbs from the oshawott.

“He feels so warm,” Hilda observed. Then, looking up, she locked eyes with Door. “Let me guess. You’re more in tune with real pokémon than fake ones, aren’t you?”

Door stiffened and stared at the champion for a few beats. Then, she frowned and looked away, opting to fix her eyes on a spot on the road. Hilda’s shoulders slumped, and she shot Door a quizzical look. Then, after a heavy sigh, she glanced up at Geist instead.

“Geist, was it?” she asked. “Am I right about your partner?”

The Companion folded his hands behind his back and exhaled. “It wouldn’t be appropriate to answer on my trainer’s behalf,” he said.

Hilda gave him a small smile. “It’s okay. We’re all friends here, and I’d like to help Door as much as possible.”

Without moving her head, Door crossed her arms and glanced at Hilda. She didn’t say a word. She only waited for Geist to respond.

“Well,” he said. “It’s true. Door feels uncomfortable with fake pokémon.”

“Companions too, am I right?” Hilda asked.

“I’m afraid so.”

The champion cocked her head and gave him a wry smile. “Kinda figured, looking at you.” She straightened her posture and glanced at Door. “You know, though—and this is a tip that’s meant in general, not just in the case of Companions—the most valuable thing you can have on a journey is a friend. Don’t discount someone’s support, just because they’re robotic. N is right. Even fauxkémon can feel, on a level. Companions too, and both only want to help you on your journey.”

Hilda gently placed Jack on Door’s shoulder. Door tilted her head away from the oshawott to give him room, but she couldn’t look the champion in the eye. She couldn’t even speak. In her chest, that hot bubble of rage was back, and it was taking all her willpower not to snap at Hilda King over it. She wanted so badly to tell her all the reasons why she thought fauxkémon and Companions were creepy. She wanted to tell Hilda King about how she was the granddaughter of Halcyon Labs’ CEO and that she hated how much Companions and fauxkémon dominated her life. She wanted to tell her about Opal’s over-enthusiasm and how annoying it was to have Geist give her advice on things she already knew. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t because all of this would be inappropriate to tell the champion of Unova, the one woman she had looked up to for most of her life. So she remained silent and shaking as she reached up and pressed Jack to her shoulder. Hilda, seemingly unaware of Door’s discomfort, scratched Jack under the chin and smiled at them both.

“Give it some thought,” she said. “But if you ask me, Geist is worth listening to. He had a lot of great advice in that battle there. I have no doubt he’ll have great advice for you when you challenge the Nacrene Gym.”

Door gave her an uncertain look. “How … how did you know?”

Hilda smiled. “Why else would a trainer be in Nacrene City?” Then, her smile faded slightly, and she lifted her chin. “Word of advice, though. The gym leader of Nacrene City is the granddaughter of Lenora Hawes, one of the toughest gym leaders I’ve ever had the pleasure of battling. You’d better believe that she made sure her granddaughter’s just as tough as she was. The entire Hawes family was always like that. Smart both on the battlefield and off, and hard as nails either way.” She lowered her chin and stared deep into Door’s eyes. “Which is to say, don’t let your guard down in Nacrene Gym. N gave you a taste of what to expect. Got it?”

At that, Door nodded, and when she spoke, her voice was low and soft. “Thanks.”

Hilda’s smirk returned, and she snorted out a small laugh. Her hand moved up to stroke Jack’s head once before she turned and started walking away.

“And think about what I said about friends on your journey,” Hilda added, her voice raised slightly. “Just because they’re not flesh and blood doesn’t mean they’re not valid, okay?”

“O-okay,” Door replied. “I’ll think about it.” It was a lie, of course, but she wasn’t about to tell the champion of Unova the truth.

Luckily, Hilda didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she grinned and bowed her head, then lifted a hand to wave at Door.

“Atta girl,” she said. “N and I had better get going. Places to be and all. Don’t you worry, though. I’m sure we’ll see each other again. Until then, take care, good luck, and don’t forget what I said.”

“I-I won’t,” Door replied. “Thanks, Miss King.”

Hilda threw a glance over her shoulder with a smile. “Hilda. Please.”

Door responded with her own awkward smile as she said, “Hilda.”

With that, Hilda gave Door one last grin over her shoulder and walked away. N cast his own gaze towards the young trainer, with a steely-eyed expression that made Door shudder, before falling into step beside Hilda. Door stood, watching them silently until they disappeared around a bend in the High Line, and then, she relaxed her shoulders and shut her eyes for a moment.

That is, she shut her eyes until Jack began vibrating. Door’s eyes snapped open, and she looked at her pokémon, just in time to see him take on a brilliant, white glow. Her eyes widened, and she pulled Jack off her shoulder and held him out at arm’s length. She felt the heat of his evolution, the way his body stretched and grew heavier with every passing second, and she watched as he grew longer, as his fur grew wilder, and as his limbs grew lankier. Eventually, she had to put him down, and when she did, she stumbled backwards several steps until Geist caught her. All the while, she couldn’t take her eyes off Jack. Not until the white light burst, and he threw his head back and bayed. And there, right where her starter had been, was a taller, leaner otter. A dewott.

Jack snapped his eyes open and his head forward, and he regarded his trainer with a confident growl. She, meanwhile, couldn’t speak, but her Companion could.

“Dewott,” he recited. “The discipline pokémon. Scalchop techniques differ from one dewott to another. It never neglects maintaining its scalchops.”

As if to illustrate, Jack plucked one of the shells off his hip and twirled it in his paw. When he raised it to eye level, he grabbed its hinge and brandished it like a sword. His trainer straightened, eyebrows rising a little more until she smirked and crossed her arms.

“Well, I’ll be,” she said. “You look awesome, Jack.”

The dewott barked, twirled his shell, and clipped it back onto his hip without taking his shining eyes off his trainer. Her smirk widened in response.

“So. Hilda says Nacrene’s gym leader is tough,” Door continued. “Ready to see how tough she is?”

Jack barked one more time, prompting Door to start for the pokémon center.

“Great! First thing in the morning, bright and early, right at sunrise, let’s take on the Nacrene Gym!” Door said.

She marched to the pokémon center doors with her dewott barking and jogging behind her. Meanwhile, her Companion touched his temple briefly, stopped, and flung his hand up to signal his partner to stop.

“Door!” he called “Wait! There’s something you need to know about the Nacrene Gym! It—”

She walked right into the pokémon center without even stopping to look back at Geist. For all intents and purposes, she simply acted as if he hadn’t said anything at all. Realizing she was ignoring him, Geist lowered his hand and sighed.

“It … doesn’t open until ten,” he muttered.



> CORE5.txt
> Author: Lanette Hamilton
> Notes: From the audio research notes of Lanette Hamilton. Transcript only; sound file has been lost. File transcribed by Bebe Larson.

LANETTE: —16:24, follow-up on Project Galatea, re, hardware configuration. Today’s OS tests revealed that a significant amount of RAM is needed for our purposes. Solution: divide and conquer. We’ll use a multi-core system, with each core containing a separate drive dedicated to specific processes. One will be dedicated to necessary software for bodily movement; the other will be dedicated to storing data, backups, and software needed to support the LFA system. I’ve named these the digital and memory cores, respectively, for clarity’s sake.

For the time being, I’m housing the LFA system in a third core of its own. The last thing I want is to put too much weight on the memory core and risk shutting down the connection. If that happens … well, it wouldn’t exactly mean that everything will be for naught, but it would be rather inconvenient, considering the entire point of Project Galatea and all.

Also, I suppose I should make it official. These cores aren’t really motherboards, although I think the best way to describe them would be to call them such. They’re more like … well, it’s something else entirely. Super motherboards, if you will. Something that I thought I had designed to withstand the strain of the LFA system and unit management on its own, but … well, here we are.

[clears her throat] So. Official definition. Core: noun, spherical components within an android unit, equivalent to the motherboard. Each core takes on a specialized function that works in perfect balance with the others to create a complex system that both enables the unit to function and allows them to operate at the speed of human thought, even when not engaged with the LFA.

[pause]

Okay, that’s terrible. Revise later.

[end recording]

Haha Geist having some sass there. Gotta love it when androids can act that way.

Some nice character development for Door there. Not only she has to learn to watch out with self control but also to appreciate Geist’s help from time to time. Also like you have Hilda supporting Geist, don’t blame her after having a lot of training experience. Aw to Jack evolving! Look forward to next gym battle!

The gym was not open. Geist held his tongue about this, and for that, Door was thankful. Of course, she had no doubt he knew that the gym wasn’t open that early in the day, and for that, she decided to give him the silent treatment all morning. Yet, at the very least, she was thankful he didn’t offer any form of “I told you so.” She didn’t even acknowledge him when he suggested that if she wanted to train, she should go a little further west, to the fields between the outskirts of the city and the remnants of Pinwheel Forest. But she followed his advice anyway because she had nothing better to do.

That was at seven o’ clock. One bagel, a cup of coffee, and an hour later, and Door was standing on the outer edge of a field, just outside Nacrene City’s gate. Jack stood next to her, and Geist lingered on the path behind them with his arms crossed. Door took a sip of her coffee and peered into the grasses, watching carefully for any sign of movement. Geist, meanwhile, brought a hand to his temple and let his eyes flash over the field.

“Door,” he said, “I’m detecting a pokémon not far from where you are now. If you head south for about five—”

She didn’t wait for him to stop. Instead, she cocked her head back and downed the rest of her coffee, and once her cup was drained, she crumpled it with one hand, stuffed it in her pants pocket, and walked into the tall grass without a word. Jack followed her, but Geist sighed and crossed his arms again.

“And you’re not listening again,” he muttered. Then, a little louder, he said, “Door, hold on. Let me tell you about this pokémon, all right?”

“I’ve got it,” she said.

Ahead of her, she could see the grass rustle softly. Her eyes narrowed, and her body tensed as she motioned for Jack to move forward. Flashing a grin at his trainer, Jack rushed ahead and disappeared into the grass. As Door watched him go, she became aware that Geist was right beside her, so when she looked down and saw his hand holding out a poké ball for her, she wasn’t entirely surprised.

“Pidove,” he said. “Female. Impish nature. Likes to thrash about. Capture level seems to be beginner.”

“Yes, great, thank you,” Door responded as she swiped the ball out of his palm. Her voice was dripping in venom and sarcasm, neither of which he seemed to detect.

“She’s a pidove, Door,” Geist continued. “Her types are normal and flying?”

Door stopped and thought about that for a second.

“Oh,” she said.

As if on cue, a gray blur burst from the grass and ascended quickly until it reached a point several meters in the air. The moment it stopped, Door could see it for what it was: a pidove, just like the one N had used in the battle against her a night ago. It—or she, according to Geist—fixed her tiny, glassy eyes onto an unseen target far below and flapped her wings rapidly. A rush of air slammed onto the ground, flattening both the grass and a smear of blue against the earth. Jack howled beneath the attack, and even when the winds stopped, he struggled to stand on the flattened patch of earth. Door slapped her face at her own oversight. A flying type. Of course.

“Door,” Geist sighed, “you fought one of these things last night. Literally last night.”

“I was lucky then, Geist,” she growled. “N’s pidove just Quick Attacked into Scout’s mouth. This one…”

She looked up at the bird circling Jack. The pidove seemed to be waiting for something, as if she was judging the dewott and attempting to predict his next move.

“This one’s just staying up there,” she murmured.

“I … Door, are you serious right now?” Geist asked. “There is more than one way to get a flyer down. For one, you can shoot it down. Think about what I told you last night. About Jack and why you should have switched to him.”

She stopped for a second, then shook her head and frowned. “I know, Geist. I’m getting there! Jack, Water Gun!”

“Door, hold on!” Geist cried.

Geist’s protests came a second too late. A jet of water shot into the air from the tall grass, but Jack’s move didn’t even come close to the pidove. Instead, it simply stopped a few feet into the air and rained down on its source like a fountain, driving Jack to cry out.

Behind her, Geist sighed. “Pidove is too high for you to hit her. You’ve got to wait until she gets closer and then strike.”

Door whirled around and glared at Geist. “First, you want me to hit her with Water Gun, and now you don’t?! Make up your freakin’ mind already!”

“Look out!” Geist snapped.

He grabbed her and shoved her around until she faced forward, just in time to see pidove enter a nosedive towards the grass. Door reeled back, jumping in her Companion’s hands before regaining composure and stepping forward.

“Jack, Water Gun now!” she shouted.

As the bird dropped closer to the earth, another jet of water blasted out of the grass. The pidove screeched and flapped its wings frantically, attempting to break out of the dive, but the blast struck her full in the chest. She screeched one last time before plummeting away from the jet and to the ground. Her body landed with a thud, and at once, the pidove stopped screaming.

Door tensed, one hand worming through her hair to grab her head. “Oh crap!” she hissed. “Did I kill it?!”

Geist walked forward, entering the grass. As he motioned for Door to follow, he glanced back at her with glowing, blue eyes.

“Relax,” he said. “She’s a fauxkémon. It would take a lot more than a fall to kill her, but the fall did knock her offline for the time being. Come on, before her system automatically reboots.”

Door relaxed her shoulders, then nodded and followed Geist. A rustling at her side signaled Jack’s presence, although Door couldn’t see him through the tall grass, and the three of them pushed forward until Geist led her to a flattened patch in the field. There, at the center, lay the pidove with one wing twisted under her body. Her eyes were glassy and black and lifeless: offline, definitely. With a deep breath, Door tossed her poké ball and watched it smack the bird on the shoulder. A red light swallowed the pidove and drew her inside, and as it snapped shut and rolled onto the ground, Door kept her eyes on the ball until it lay still. Then, she started forward, picked it up, and examined it carefully.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” Geist said.

She frowned at the ball. “What wasn’t?”

“Taking advice from me.”

Door shot him a glare. He stood a few steps from her, hands folded behind his back and an awkward smile on his face. His eyes had faded back into their usual dark brown—no light, no signal that he was analyzing her. Somehow, that made her feel a little less uneasy about being stared at by him.

“Shut up,” she said as she pocketed her poké ball. “Anyway, this pidove. Let’s call her—I dunno—Storm, I guess. If Storm’s offline, fine. I’ll train her later. But in the meantime, Jack, let’s get back to work.”

The dewott saluted and barked, then unsheathed one of his shells. Door started forward, walking deeper into the grass in search of pokémon. At first, all she could hear was Jack’s footsteps, but it didn’t take long for Geist’s to join them.

“Door,” he said, “if I’m going to be traveling with you, then perhaps we should—”

“You’re not,” she replied.

His footsteps slowed. “Sorry?”

“You’re only going as far as Castelia City,” Door said. “Once we get there, we find Halcyon Labs, I drop you off with my grandmother, and I go back to Amanita’s and take her up on that nice offer she gave me for escorting you. Technically, I don’t even have to earn this badge. We could push forward and get to the Skyarrow Bridge by nightfall and then Castelia City by tomorrow, but Belle’s both flippin’ crazy and a trainer, and gym challenges are a nice way to test my skills against trainers who know what they’re doing. Point is, I’m not on a journey, you’re not my Companion, and to be perfectly honest, I’m looking forward to dumping you off with Grandma Brigette and forgetting I’d ever met you.”

“Fine.”

Door stopped short. She whirled around again to face Geist.

“What?” she asked. “What do you mean ‘fine’?”

He exhaled and slumped his shoulders, and his expression morphed into one of sadness. “Door … believe it or not, we Companions are capable of responding to emotional stimuli. We can get hurt, and from that, we … understand our world, in a way. It might not be the same way you see your world, but it’s similar. And not to brag, but from what I’ve been told, your great aunt designed me to specialize in exactly that. I can’t help but think like a human, and that comes with … well, with having some semblance of emotions.” He placed a hand over where his heart would have been, had he been human. “I understand why you’re uncomfortable with Companions, and all I can say is I can’t force you to like me or the situation you’re in. As I’ve been telling you, it’s my job to do all that I can to guide you, but if that’s not possible, then fine. Do what you will.”

She stared at him for a few beats. And then, she shrugged, turned back around, and walked deeper into the grass. “Cool.”

Geist jumped. “I … really, Door?!”

Responding only with a toothy smile, Door began climbing a slope. She had no idea where she was going; she simply chose to climb that hill for no other reason than to have a vantage point from which she could spot pokémon without Geist’s help. But as soon as she reached the top of the hill, she realized it wasn’t unoccupied. At the very peak of the hill sat a pillar-like stone, and before it stood a young woman and a watchog. The woman stood quietly, her arms crossed and her dark eyes locked on the watchog, but the watchog flung itself over and over again at the stone. Its claws, curled into fists, bashed against the surface of the pillar, and with each strike, cracks laced up its face from each point the watchog struck. Door took one look at the attack and knew immediately what it was.

“Oh. Rock Smash,” she muttered.

“Sure is,” the woman said.

Door jumped. She was standing a good distance away from the woman, and she didn’t think she spoke that loudly. For both reasons, it came as a complete shock to her that the woman heard her nonetheless.

As if she could sense Door’s astonishment, the woman turned her head to grin at the trainer. Her coarse, blue dreadlocks brushed up her bare, dark-skinned shoulders, and the white beads at the tip of each braid clattered together, breaking the awkward silence.

“Hello,” she said. “I was watching your capture a few moments ago. Nice job.”

“Uh, thanks,” Door responded. “Look, um, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, so—”

“You didn’t,” the woman replied. She tilted her head, her eyes glinting in the morning sunlight. “Sophia Hawes.”

“W-what?”

“That’s my name. And you are…?”

“Door. Door Hornbeam.”

“Door. I’ll remember that.” Sophia returned her gaze to the watchog and the rock. “You know, Door, whenever two or more trainers’ eyes meet, they’re obligated to battle.”

At that, Door ground her feet into the earth and smirked. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes. Normally.”

Door relaxed. “But?”

“Mm.” Sophia lowered her shoulders. “May I ask why you’re in Nacrene City?”

“Just passing through,” Door replied. “Why?”

“Are you only passing through?” Sophia asked.

Door rubbed the back of her neck. “Well … I guess I’d like to get Nacrene’s gym badge, but the gym is closed at the moment.”

“I see.” Sophia lifted her chin. “Then before we battle, I should warn you about what a fight against me would mean.”

“Huh? I don’t … I don’t get it,” Door said slowly. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s talking about the fact that she’s the Nacrene gym leader,” Geist told her.

Instantly, Door frowned and shoved her hands into her pockets. She didn’t have to look away from Sophia to know that her Companion was standing next to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him, his hands folded behind his back as usual.

“Stop sneaking up on me!” she hissed.

Geist shrugged in response, but Sophia glanced back over her shoulder and grinned again.

“It’s been a while, Geist,” she said. “We’ve started to miss Amanita’s intellectual company.”

“Dr. Fennel’s been quite busy lately. She sends her apologies,” he replied.

She chuckled. “Well. My family sends our regards nonetheless. Now, is this young lady Amanita’s new assistant?”

“I’m afraid not,” Geist replied. “Sophia, this is Door Hornbeam, granddaughter of Brigette Hamilton-Hornbeam. She’s escorting me to Halcyon Laboratories, but in the meantime, she would like to challenge you to a gym battle. At your earliest convenience, of course.”

“Is that so?”

The smile on Sophia’s face widened. Her arms fell to her sides, and her fists rested by her hips.

“Ishtar,” she called. “You did well, but stand down.”

At once, the watchog stopped and twisted around to face its trainer. From the soft glow in its eyes, Door knew right away what it was: a fauxkémon, just like Sage’s team. It turned those glowing eyes up to its trainer’s face, and she jabbed a thumb to the side. With a small nod, the watchog leapt onto all fours and bounded to the edge of the hill. As soon as her pokémon was out of harm’s way, Sophia reached down and plucked a poké ball from her belt. Door could hear the whir of it expanding in her hand, but Sophia didn’t throw it right away. Instead, she bowed her head.

“Door,” she said, “it’s not enough if all you are is strong. I trust you’ve already visited Striaton Gym?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Door replied.

“Good.” Sophia tossed the ball up in the air, but not enough to release its pokémon. Instead, she simply caught it again and continued tossing it as she spoke. “In that case, I accept your challenge. I hope you’re ready.”

“What?!” Door swallowed and looked around, at the open hillside. “Here?! But … don’t we have to at least be in Nacrene City first?”

Sophia chuckled and paced away from Door until she stood next to her watchog. Then, turning, she thrust her poké ball forward, allowing it to open at last. In seconds, a herdier appeared on the field and crouched low to the ground with a growl. Door stiffened at the sight of it, unable to parse what was going on.

“Gym leaders can host a battle anywhere they want,” Geist explained. “It doesn’t matter where the battle is. What matters is whether or not a gym leader can adequately judge a trainer’s worthiness of their badge in the space they choose. Why else do you think the Striaton gym leaders were able to get away with having their gym be in a restaurant?”

“Your friend is right,” Sophia said, her chin raised slightly. “That having been said, this will be a standard battle, no time limit, and you’re free to switch pokémon if you’d like. There’s just one catch, however.”

Door blinked. “Catch?”

With a nod, Sophia added, “Normally, at the Nacrene Gym, we test your intelligence—your problem-solving capabilities in the face of adversity. We do this by forcing you to find the location of our gym floor through a series of puzzles. However, seeing as this battle won’t be held in the gym, this will have to be a … special case.”

“Special case how?” Door asked.

Bowing her head again, Sophia smiled. “Our first turn will be the same as usual: you move, then I move. This way, you’ll have a chance to get the upper hand for the rest of the battle. After that, I’ll give you a riddle. Answer correctly, and my pokémon will only use Leer. Fail to answer correctly in thirty seconds, and my pokémon will use one of their three other, more dangerous moves. Your Companion may help you, but he may not answer for you. Understand?”

Door raised her eyebrows. Was she for real? “I … guess so.”

“Then do you agree?”

With a confused smile, Door shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

“Good. Then please send out your first pokémon so we may begin.”

At that, Door bit her lip. Jack was in decent shape, but glancing over at Sophia’s watchog, she stopped herself from sending him out first. She had no doubt Sophia’s herdier was just as artificial as her watchog, and with that thought roiling in her head, Door couldn’t help but remember her battle with N—or, more specifically, all the blood Scout had drawn. Storm needed repairs and was thus out of the question, and Huntress, while tough, hadn’t yet battled enough to catch up with Door’s other pokémon. And given that Knives was also real, that meant Door had only one option left. Drawing Scout’s poké ball from her pocket, she let her eyes linger on it and silently reminded herself that this wasn’t going to be like the battle against N. She wasn’t going to lose control of her pokémon, and she wouldn’t have to worry about seriously injuring her opponents. Everything was going to be fine.

“Scout, let’s go!” she said, whipping her arm forward.

In a flash, Scout materialized in front of her. He stood tall and stiff, as if he had already forgotten about the battle against N. Upon seeing Sophia’s herdier, he tilted his head and clicked his teeth together.

“Okay, Scout,” Door said. “Remember our first gym battle? Let’s do it again. Open with Crunch!”

Sophia planted her hands on her hips and inclined her head. “Neith, counter with Leer!”

Counter with Leer? While her pokémon stormed forward, Door pressed her lips together. How could a non-damaging move be used to counter an offensive one like Crunch? She watched carefully as Scout crossed the distance between himself and his target and bit down onto the herdier’s back. Neith yelped as Scout picked it up in his mouth and tossed, but it crashed into the ground, rolled, and righted itself on its feet as if nothing had happened. Instead, it fixed its red eyes on Scout with as intense a glare as Door had ever seen on a herdier’s face. Scout took a step back, dipping his body low with caution.

“Scout, don’t worry about it,” Door said. “You’ve got this. Now, use—”

“Riddle number one.”

Door hesitated, her eyes flicking from her pokémon to Sophia. A grin spread across the gym leader’s face.

“I told you the rules, Door,” she said. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“What? No!” Door responded.

“Good. Then riddle number one. Thirty men, and ladies, two. They stand about with nothing to do. Dressed in black and dressed in white, yet with one small move, they begin a fight. What are they?”

Door flinched. Thirty men? Two women? Black and white? What was all of this? She didn’t realize Sophia was serious about that twist. Who had ever heard of riddles in the middle of a gym match?

Scout looked back at her. His face was just as blank as it always had been, but something about his expression almost seemed … concerned. Worried. Door bit her lip at the sight of it.

“Time’s up. The correct answer: a chess set,” Sophia said. “Neith, Bite!”

“What?! Wait!” Door cried.

Before she could protest, Sophia’s herdier bounded across the field, opened its jaws, and leapt onto Scout. He screamed as Neith’s fangs sank into his arm, and in the flurry of confusion, the two pokémon tumbled onto the ground in a heap. Scout thrashed in the dog’s grip, his voice screeching in intermittent bursts until the herdier finally let go and bound back to its starting position. At the same time, Scout rose shakily to his feet, claws scratching at a ragged tear in his arm, right where Neith had bitten.

“Oh my God,” she muttered. “Sophia’s really not kidding.”

In response, Geist grasped her shoulder gently, leaned down, and whispered, “Let me help you.”

Door shrugged him off. “I can do this myself. I-I was just caught off-guard, that’s all. I don’t need anyone to look up the answers for me.”

“It’s not cheating, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Geist replied. “Besides, I’m not looking up the answers. I’m good at riddles. Just trust me, okay?”

“Riddle number two,” Sophia announced. “Without fingers, I point. Without arms, I strike. Without feet, I run. What am I?”

Door bit her lip again. Her eyes fell to Sophia’s herdier, then Scout, then the glistening metal peeking out from beneath Scout’s ripped fur. In her head, she went over the riddle again. What points without fingers? A sign? But what type of sign strikes and runs?

How much time did she have to answer these?

“You won’t be able to win this battle if you don’t answer,” Sophia said. “You have ten seconds left.”

Geist rested his hand on Door’s shoulder again, but this time, his touch was heavy. “A clock!” he said. “It has hands that point to the time, it strikes every hour but doesn’t have arms, and its gears run, even if it doesn’t have feet. You’re thinking of a clock.”

Sophia crossed her arms and lowered her head. “While that answer is correct, it’s not Door’s. I said you can help her, not answer for her. And on that note, time’s up, Door. Neith, Bite again!”

Door didn’t have time to react. She could only watch as Sophia’s herdier stormed towards Scout and leapt upon him once more. Again, the two pokémon fell to the ground, and again, Scout thrashed in Neith’s grip. The only difference was that instead of one arm, it was the other, but otherwise, the herdier trotted back to its place as it had a moment ago, leaving Scout to rise shakily to his feet.

“I’m sorry, Door,” Geist breathed. “I didn’t realize answering for you would prompt that response.”

“Forget this!” Door barked as she turned to face him. “This all is a bunch of crap! Who’s ever heard of a gym battle with riddles in the middle of it?! I mean, if she’s not going to take battles seriously, then maybe I shouldn’t either! Scout, Crunch!”

With a grateful bark, Scout rushed forward. The herdier didn’t move to defend itself, and to Door’s surprise, Sophia only watched silently. So, in the next second, Scout’s jaws clamped down hard on Neith’s neck. Scout rose up, lifting Neith in the air to shake the herdier roughly, and even then, it made no move to protest—not even to howl in pain. With one final snap, Scout tossed Neith away from him and over the side of the hill. Door could hear the herdier crash, its body crunching against the earth, and with one glance over the edge of the hill, she could see its bent and twisted form rolling down the slope until a red light engulfed it. When she shifted her gaze back to the gym leader, Door was shocked to see Sophia grinning back at her.

“Now you’re getting it,” she said.

“Getting what?” Door snapped.

“Thinking critically,” Sophia responded. “Ishtar, go!”

“Don’t let her get in an attack or a riddle,” Geist said quickly, “and don’t forget that as a watchog, Scout’s able to use more than just strong offensive moves.”

At his advice, Door’s eyes widened. Then, for once, she nodded and took his word.

“Scout, Confuse Ray! Right now!” she ordered.

As soon as Sophia’s watchog approached the exact same spot Neith had stood a moment ago, Scout stomped ahead and threw his stubby arms towards his opponent. From the tips of his claws, a cloud of golden lights swirled outward and engulfed the other meerkat. Each orb exploded into a brilliant flash of yellow, but despite how blinding it was, Ishtar burst forth and lunged at its opponent. Sophia’s pokémon slammed full-force into Scout, driving him backwards several meters until he came to a stop mere feet from Door. The other watchog, meanwhile, wobbled back to a spot close to where it started, and there, it wavered from one foot to the other in a desperate attempt to stand still.

“Hopefully, that will help you,” Geist said, “but you should consider switching Scout for another pokémon soon. He’s taken three attacks already, and Retaliate is especially powerful if it’s used immediately after a pokémon on the user’s side faints.”

“I know, but if I can just get in a couple more Crunches…” Door muttered.

“Riddle number three,” Sophia announced. “I will disappear every time you say my name. What am I?”

Geist exhaled and leaned towards Door. “Too easy. In all those times we aren’t talking, what do we have instead, Door?”

Door smirked. “Sweet, sweet relief.” Then, louder, to Sophia, she said, “The answer’s silence.”

Sophia smiled. “Correct. Ishtar, Leer!”

The watchog lifted its head and chirruped, only to wobble on its feet and slam its head into the ground. Door smirked at this. It was exactly what she was hoping for.

“Okay, Scout!” she shouted, thrusting her hand forward to point at Sophia’s watchog. “Crunch!”

Without hesitation, Scout leapt forward with his jaws wide open. His fangs snapped onto Ishtar’s head with a bang, and as his opponent flailed and screeched, Scout picked it up and shook it by the skull. He released, tossing Ishtar to Sophia’s feet, and as the watchog struggled to rise, its eyes blinked. With each blink, slowly but surely, it looked less and less confused.

“Very good,” Sophia said. “Riddle number four. I eat, I live. I breathe, I live. I drink, I die. What am I?”

“Too easy,” Geist said. “Door, do you remember Savory?”

Door flashed him another smirk. “I’d figured that one out myself, thanks very much. Fire. The answer’s fire.”

Sophia nodded. “Very good, Door. Ishtar, Leer!”

“Scout, go in for another Crunch!” Door ordered.

The two watchog moved simultaneously. Sophia’s flashed a red-eyed glare at Door’s, but this only made Scout stumble as he dashed forward with his jaws open wide. Another bang echoed through the clearing as Scout slammed his fangs down on his opponent, but this time, he lifted the other watchog up by its chest, growled, and shook his opponent like a rag doll. Then, he spat the creature onto the ground just to the left of where it had started.

“One more ought to do it,” Door murmured.

“That may be true, but don’t let your guard down,” Geist responded.

“Relax,” she said. “I’ve got it covered! Yo, Sophia! Throw me a hard one!”

Instantly, Door regretted saying that. A smile spread across Sophia’s face like ink trailing across a page, and the sparkle in her dark blue eyes told Door she already had a riddle in mind. A hard one, just as Door wanted.

“Riddle number five,” she said. “Greater than God but worse than the devil. The poor have it, the wealthy need it, and if you eat it, you’ll die. What is it?”

Door blinked. Reluctantly, she threw a glance over her shoulder at Geist, who shrugged.

“What’s in an empty poké ball?” he said.

“I dunno. Air?” Door asked.

“Incorrect,” Sophia announced.

Door looked at the gym leader with wide eyes. “Wait! Hold up!”

“Nothing, Door. It’s nothing,” Sophia replied. “Ishtar, Hypnosis!”

At once, the watchog swiveled its head towards Scout, and its eyes began to glow red. This time, Scout stared deep into them, unable to look away. Door took a step forward, but she could only watch in horror as her pokémon swayed on his feet and, finally, collapsed sideways into the ground.

“Riddle number six,” Sophia continued. “When I am filled, I point the way, but when I am empty, nothing moves me. What am I?”

Door cursed under her breath. She started forward, only to be grabbed by Geist.

“What are you doing?” he hissed. “This is an active battlefield, and you only have thirty seconds to answer Sophia’s question! You can’t just run out there!”

“Shut up!” she snapped. “Scout! Wake up! Come on!”

“Door, your answer, please,” Sophia replied calmly.

“Screw the answer!” Door responded. “Scout!”

With a sigh, Sophia tilted her head. “Fine. The correct answer was a glove. Ishtar, Crunch, please.”

Scout was still limp on the ground when Sophia’s watchog waddled to his side. It bent down, jaws open wide, as Door cursed again.

“Wake up!” she screamed. “Come on, Scout!”

Ishtar’s jaws snapped shut around Scout’s neck. It picked him up and shook him violently, just as Scout had with it and Neith. But when it released, it flung Scout hard … right into the rock pillar at the side of the field. His body crashed into it head first with a crunch, and as he tumbled to the ground, Door caught one last glimpse of his smashed-in face. Everyone—Door, Geist, Sophia, Ishtar, even Jack—fell silent at the sight of Scout lying in a crumpled, twisted heap at the base of the pillar. And as Door turned her head back to Sophia, she saw the gym leader stiffen with her arms pin-straight beside her and her eyes wide on Scout.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “Door, believe me when I say I didn’t mean to have that happen. I suppose I went a little overboard.” She turned back to her opponent. “If you’d like, I could—”

Door held up Scout’s poké ball and withdrew him from the battlefield. Then, she extended her hand.

“Jack, you’re up next!” she said.

With a bark, Jack bounded onto the battlefield. He glared at Ishtar, whipped one of his shells off his leg, and brandished it like a sword. It seemed as if he was just as oblivious to what had happened as his trainer was, because his expression was one of pure determination.

Sophia furrowed her eyebrows as she glanced from Jack to his trainer. “Door … are you sure you’re okay to continue?”

“Yeah, of course I am,” she said with a shrug. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

For a few seconds, Sophia gave her a curious glance. Then, she shook her head. “All right. Riddle number seven. When you do not understand me, I am something. When you understand me, I am nothing. What am I?”

Door glanced back at Geist, but he only stared at her with an expression of shock. Realizing he wasn’t going to give her a hint, she huffed.

“Okay,” she muttered. “What are things that stop being things when I understand them? Questions? If I answer a question, would that—oh!” She smirked. “Riddles. The answer’s a riddle!”

Sophia nodded slowly. “Correct.”

“Well, in that case, Jack, Razor Shell!” Door ordered.

While Jack dashed forward, Door realized Sophia hadn’t given her pokémon an order, but right then, she shrugged it off as meaningless. As far as she was concerned, the only important thing was the battle. She watched as Jack’s scallop sword flashed with a pale blue light and as Jack himself charged toward Sophia’s watchog. Jack howled and slashed, bringing his blade down across Ishtar’s chest. It ripped open a gash across the watchog’s body, and as Ishtar shrieked and reeled backwards, sunlight glinted off the dented, metallic flesh underneath its fake skin. At last, the watchog collapsed onto the ground.

Then, Sophia exhaled. “Door … that was my last pokémon. Congratulations. I hereby declare you worthy of the Nacrene City gym badge.”

At first, Door simply widened her eyes. Then, she cried out and rushed towards Jack. The dewott looked up with a grin as his trainer swooped down, grabbed his hands, and swung him around.

“Did you hear that, Jack?!” she exclaimed. “We won! You were so awesome at the end! Just bang!” She let go of Jack’s paws to swing one of her hands down with a chop. “One hit kill! Of course, Scout was pretty cool too, but—”

“Sophia!”

At the sound of the new voice, Door looked up to see a male research Companion rushing towards them. His eyes were glowing with bright, blue light as his porcelain face twisted into an expression of fear and worry. He stopped before Sophia and bowed, his lab coat rustling around his long legs.

“Sophia, your father said I could find you here. Please, you must hurry!” he said.

“Why?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

He lifted his head, gazing into her face. “A group of strange people in black clothes were seen running out of the museum this morning. They were carrying the skull of the dragonite skeleton between them.”

Sophia’s eyes widened. “The dragonite skull has been stolen?!”

“I’m afraid so, ma’am,” the Companion replied. “The group was last seen running towards Pinwheel Forest. That was less than fifteen minutes ago. If you hurry, you may be able to catch up with them and take back the skull. Your father has already enlisted the help of an International Police officer who happened to be in the area, but he thought you may be strong enough to lend a hand.”

She nodded. “I can. Door, I’m sorry, but I don’t have a Nacrene badge on my person. Go back to Nacrene City, find the museum, and ask my father for one. Show him this as proof that you’ve met me.”

With that, she drew two cubes out of her pocket and tossed them to Door. Catching them effortlessly, Door opened her palm and examined the dice-sized, white cubes in her hand. Both were marked with gleaming, black numbers: one reading 94 and the other reading 67. She knew what these were, of course. Professor Ironwood had stockpiles of them, and Door frequently resisted the temptation to swipe a few and sell them to her trainer friends. These were technical machines, little devices that were capable of teaching pokémon new moves, and in her palm, she realized she was holding Rock Smash and Retaliate.

Closing her hand, she thought about what Sophia had said but then looked up with a frown.

“Hold on,” she said. “Was one of the people in black a woman with really long green braids?”

The Companion glanced at her. “Yes, in fact.”

Door huffed. “Then I’m coming too. I took out both of your pokémon, remember? I’ve still got four on my team who can fight, and that woman and I have a score to settle.”

Sophia shook her head. “No. I really insist that you go back to Nacrene City. You need to get to a pokémon center as soon as possible to see if they can help you salvage your watchog.”

At that, Door’s frown deepened. “What? Why?”

Geist’s hand came down hard on her shoulder, and when Door looked up at him, she found the Companion staring at her with extreme concern.

“Door,” he said, his voice shaking. “Look at Scout’s poké ball.”

Blinking, Door did as he said. She pulled Scout’s ball from her pocket, expanded it, and looked at it carefully. The ball didn’t appear any different than it usually did, except for one key exception: the button on its face was now glowing with a deep, dark purple light.

“Do you see that light?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” she replied. “What about it?”

Geist straightened. His voice made a sound as if he was breathing in deeply, even though Door knew this had to be a mimicry. Still, she couldn’t help but begin to feel cold, as if she knew what he was about to say and dreaded it.

“It means,” he said, “that Scout is dead.”



> CORES6.txt
> Author: Lanette Hamilton
> Notes: From the personal audio research notes of Lanette Hamilton. Transcript only; sound file has been lost. File transcribed by Bebe Larson.

LANETTE: —successful installation of the test personality core. Of course, for the sake of formality, a note of explanation. The personality core is a temporary core designed to house specialized software meant for testing purposes only. Seeing as I can’t install the LFA system at the moment for quite obvious reasons, I needed a placeholder that’s capable of responding in as close a manner as possible to the LFA’s target. It’s taken me a bit, but I was able to “teach” the core very basic personality traits—such as brave or docile or calm—by assigning certain actions and modifiers to each value. In theory, the unit will be able to mix and match these traits to create a more complex artificial personality, and, gods willing, respond to the tests more accurately.

In this case, values set for the core are quirky, gentle, serious, mild, modest, docile, and—forgive me for taking liberties—wise and intelligent. That should do it, really. Or, well, it should do it in the sense that I’ll have a perfect emulation except not … well, not inclined to do anything irrational mid-test. Or, well, I know that the test dummy won’t be able to act outside of the testing parameters, but I mean … you know.

Speaking of, at the very least, the dummy was able to move its chassis during initial testing, and all basic systems seem to be fully operational. Quite surprising for a first run, if I may say so myself. I was expecting at least a plethora of bugs besides the lag between order and execution or some issues with the analogs to the finer motor skills. But I’m not complaining. Once the personality core is installed, I’m hoping that the aforementioned comparatively minor issues will be ironed out. If not, at least the personality core can rule out the lack of an AI as the key issue.

[end recording]

It's nice to get an actual look at Unova, even if only a brief one; there's so much in this story that says “by the way, Unova is now an overdeveloped hellscape” (so much of one, in fact, that you kind of wonder why kids were allowed to wander it unsupervised 50 years ago; I can't see how it could have been that much better then, and I wonder what particular crisis it was other than the eco-collapse that made the League step up its safeguarding procedures so dramatically), but this is I think the first time we actually see it. I guess the whole point of Door being on the trainer route is that she doesn't see it, but I feel like there would be ample scope for her catching glimpses of the other Unova as she does here in previous chapters – down streets that she passes, leaking from passing buses, that kind of thing. Like, it's a great setting, and it's a shame we don't really see much of it for the first ten chapters; it would definitely complicate Door's snobbery about artifice quite a bit earlier.

Anyway, Hilda and N! That's exciting. And Hilda gives Door stuff! A mystic water, and a bunch of berries that she will never use because who even remembers to use berries? Someone, probably, the numbers are huge enough that someone out there makes berries an integral part of their playthrough, but I don't think Door is that person. I like how they're gummy candies, though. That's cute. N himself is … well, he's a number of different things. In one sense, he seems to mesh really well with the world he currently lives in, because he is supremely empathetic, particularly towards non-human entities, and that's a really valuable trait to have in the world of Electric Sheep. I think that's something you're carrying through from canon to this story, but at the same time you have him perplexed and frustrated that he can't talk to fauxkémon – like, that's a huge amount of what he says, both in this chapter and in his previous appearances. So maybe he never did grow in the right ways to negotiate the tricky balance between natural/artificial and real/false? Except that I don't think that's right, either. Maybe he does get the distinction, and is just saddened that he can't actually access the inner lives of most pokémon he meets any more.

Or, to put it another way … yeah, I'm not completely convinced. N is often written as inscrutable, but there's a difference between inscrutable and inconsistently characterised. Kinda reminds me of Blair in her first couple of appearances, where it was clear that you didn't quite know what you were doing with her yet. The same is true of N here. And while I'm on the subject of stuff that didn't quite land with me, I think I agree with Firebrand that the structural conceit of “we're out in the field, we fall out for some reason, circumstances force us unwillingly together and we work as a team” is a little played out at this point. I'm pretty sure this is something that improves as you go on with the story, along with a lot of other stuff (possibly misguided hypothesis: I think that all of that coincides with a growing knowledge that you can do more with a nuzlocke than a straight retelling of the source), but it's something that definitely seems more apparent now that I'm reading all these chapters one after the other like this, as opposed to spaced out over the course of months.

Something that does work really well, though, is the way Door balances on the edge of heroism here. She's good, but she's not Hilda/Rosa good, in part at least because she still thinks it's Hilda and Rosa who are the ones responsible for what they achieved, rather than Hilda and Rosa and all of those who stood with them. Okay, so the Unova League is worse than useless (darkest moment: Clay accusing the BW protagonist of colluding with Plasma because when the drawbridge was lowered to let them into town – something that must happen literally daily – it was so startling to him that he lost track of where the Plasma agents he was hunting were), but they do try to help – and moreover, BW/2 are full of team-ups with Cheren and Hugh and stuff. Like, despite their twin heroes symbology, they are games that tell you that you would not have won had you not had friends backing you up. Hilda knows that nobody saves the world alone. Door still thinks that people do, still believes in the kind of impossible, frightening talent that a player character possesses in the eyes of NPCs, and it's only when she puts that aside and works with her companions (and Companion) that she actually has any success. Hilda, quite naturally, tries to tell her otherwise, and she just refuses to have any of it.

Do leaders in this universe really take no account at all of their challenger's skill level? It seems a strange system – it would force everyone to take the League challenge in the same order, for one, which I imagine would be a logistical nightmare for Pokémon Centre and gym staff, and also it implies that the gym leaders exist only for the the trainer journey, and not to respond to threats in their area, since in the early gyms they'd lack appropriately powerful pokémon. Except I don't think that's true, because in Striaton the triplets did jump in (with very weak pokémon that any adult who'd previously been on a trainer journey could beat, because they only seemed to have pokémon levelled to match newbie trainers), so … I don't know, honestly. I think I'm missing something here? Last time I didn't get your League system, you explained it in such a way as it made sense, but I'm afraid I've lost it again.

The game is very close to the surface in Sophia's battle, isn't it? You can kind of see why Door is so annoyed; it's exceptionally, even excessively formal, with rigorously-observed turn-based movement preceded by riddles. I would be annoyed, although actually at fourteen I might have enjoyed it more than I would now. But I guess that's the point. Sophia is testing two things here: one, to see if you're quick-witted enough (or familiar enough with common riddles) to answer all her questions quickly enough to trivialise the contest, and two, to see if you're perceptive enough to tell that the riddles are a diversion and the really important thing is winning the battle. Either one proves your intellectual vigour in the way that she wants, I guess: you could be so good at playing the game that you can manipulate it, or you could be a critical enough thinker that you can see beyond the game to the people moving the pieces. It's really nicely done, both in the way it fits into the broader thematic structure of the story and as an example of a good gym battle. Like, you go on a trainer journey to grow as a person alongside your pokémon, right? It's the responsibility of the League to oversee that process, and Sophia's certainly stepping up to the mark.

And finally, it would be remiss of me not to comment on the first death of the run. Unsurprisingly, it's in the gym with the weirdly aggressive level curve, upon whose rocks a great many fledgeling nuzlockes have foundered. (Why no, I've never heard of this “mixing your metaphors” thing. What's that?) Honestly, it strikes me as a baffling design choice – herdier and watchog hit quite hard and take quite a few hits considering the kind of pokémon you're likely to have at that stage of the game, and I feel like asking a player to grind for the second gym is kinda dickish.
Okay, I'm going to have to stop responding to these in such a way as to encourage a response because I feel increasingly awkward about talking about my fic in a review of your fic – it just seems gauche – but I can't not thank you for that. That is … a really nice thing to say about someone's writing. It's super cool of you to say it about mine, especially since all of this is exactly what I've been trying to make my writing become for the past few years. So, thank you. <3

Hiya! I finally read the second chapter, and hope to read the third in a much shorter amount of time.

This is a cute pic so far! Door's personality is kind of lazy and I like it a lot. She seems to want more out of life but isn't enthusiastic to get there, and also she's a bit... door-ky. Like her reactions and mannerisms show off her kind of character well. It's a nice character to follow around! Really excited to see how she grows. You can see a bit of her father in her as well as far as being a bit rebellious- Door doesn't like to follow explicit rules like showing up on time to work and her father doesn't like to follow the rules of "Don't add a completely new AI to the friendly robot that came to retrieve you." All in all, a nice continuation from the first chapter, and I enjoyed the last bit where Door is tricked into "agreeing" to go on this journey that the adults have decided for her.

Replies!



No fanfare this week. Mostly because I nearly forgot it's Sunday. :V

---

As far as Door was concerned, it was over.

The skull was back in Sophia’s hands, Sophia was heading back to Nacrene to tie up loose ends with the police, and Door was on her way to Castelia City in the back of an unmarked police car driven by another champion of Unova, Rosa Alvarado. Door would have been excited by that last part, except for two things. First, Rosa wasn’t much to write home about. Just a trainer who fell off the face of the earth after stepping down from the Unovan throne … to join with the International Police, as Door quickly found out. Second, Door was tired. It was early evening, but Door was tired.

At the very least, she finally gave some kind of statement, as she should have done way back in Nuvema City. She told Rosa and the Nacrene police everything, from her first battle in Nuvema all the way up to the last one in Pinwheel Forest. They had her repeat the story to police Companions who recorded her every word, thanked her, and sent her on her way.

And that was that, and that was fine, as far as Door was concerned. It didn’t matter to her if they set aside her statement or asked Geist for his video-recorded memories. She knew that the unreliability of human memory was nothing compared to the hard evidence stored in a Companion’s head, but the truth was … she didn’t care. She really didn’t. All that mattered to her was crossing Skyarrow Bridge, the last step between her and Halcyon Labs and therefore the second-to-last step before she finally wrapped up this so-called journey.

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly against the pane of glass. A wet fog blossomed across the window, and Door jabbed a finger into it and began to doodle across the pane. Her eyes peered past the fog, across the softly glowing pedestrian bridge in its blues and whites, and out to the sunset. Orange fingers of light set the sky on fire, and the lights of Castelia created a hazy, purple glow straight ahead of her. Both of these shades glittered across the black depths of the Empire River far below, and that, combined with Door’s preexisting weariness and the smooth ride of Rosa’s hovercar, made it difficult for Door to keep her eyes open until she stopped to see what she was drawing.

A watchog’s face stared back at her, puffy and cartoonish and stark in white and orange. Door hesitated for a second, then slapped a palm against the glass and rubbed the window clean. It didn’t matter to her. Nothing mattered. This would all be over in less than an hour. It didn’t normally take very long to cross the Skyarrow Bridge from Pinwheel Forest, and from there, Halcyon Labs’ headquarters couldn’t have been far. This would all be over by nightfall, and she would forget about everything the next day. She would forget about Geist, about Team Matrix, about her grandmother…

…about Scout.

With another deep breath, Door pulled away from the window and leaned her head against the back of the seat. At last, she focused on what was going on around her, on the sounds of Geist playing a hologram of his memories next to her. A tiny version of Belle floated above one of his palms, suspended by the equally small and flickering form of a swoobat. Door clenched her jaw at the recording of her voice, at how it carried a hint of laughter as it cut through the wind.

“The Electric Messiah is real, and he will rise up. And when he does, there will be a revolution. No offense, kid, but you might as well be on the right side when that happens, am I right?”

She winked out of existence as Geist closed his hands into fists.

“That’s all,” he said. “After that, she and the others flew north, but you already know that.”

“Mm.” Rosa relaxed against the driver’s seat, but Door could see from her angle that the agent’s knuckles were ghost-white. “Thank you, Geist. There’s a link-up in the backseat there. Do you mind uploading that to my server? I’d like to look at it on my own time.”

“Of course.”

Door watched Geist roll up his sleeve and open a slot in his forearm. He reached for the console between the driver’s and the passenger’s side of the front, then drew a long, white wire from one of its compartments. With a click, he slid one end of the wire into the opening in his arm and leaned back, but as he did so, he caught Door’s eye. She tensed and shifted, turning her gaze back to the window.

“I’m also sending along a few more files,” Geist said after a moment’s hesitation. “All of these are videos of our previous encounters with this woman. The only one that’s missing is my partner’s battle in Wellspring Cave.”

“Ah. The Wellspring Cave Incident. I have Door’s statement,” Rosa replied.

“Yes.”

Geist exhaled, but Door knew it wasn’t real. Companions couldn’t breathe, and therefore, they couldn’t sigh, they couldn’t gasp, they couldn’t do any of the things that required sound besides talking, but they sometimes emulated sighs and gasps and so forth anyway to mimic human emotion. Door closed her eyes. What was the point of that? Why was it so important that they pretended to be humans, right down to the way they sighed?

“May I ask you something?” Geist asked.

Door’s eyes refocused on the window until she could see Geist’s reflection. He leaned forward and rested his exposed arm on one knee. His face was locked into a deep but curious frown, and the stark difference between the wire in his arm and the natural-looking tenseness of his expression turned Door’s stomach.

“Go ahead,” Rosa replied.

“Do you know what Team Matrix’s goals are yet?”

“Well,” she said slowly, “if they’re to be believed, they want to liberate Companions. Or create a society where Companions and fauxkémon are equal to their real counterparts. However you want to phrase it.”

“But?”

Rosa shifted, glancing into the rearview mirror at the both of them. “What do you mean?”

“You said ‘if they’re to be believed,’” Geist replied. “That means you don’t necessarily believe this is true.”

With a smile, Rosa pulled away from the mirror, shifting her eyes back onto the road. “Ah. That’s what Dr. Fennel meant when she said you were observant. But yes, good catch. That’s what they say, anyway, but between you, me, and your partner, this seems a little too fishy. You’re a Companion, right? Do a search on Hilda King and see if you find a pattern.”

“I don’t have to,” Geist answered. “I see you’ve spoken with Dr. Fennel, so I doubt I need to tell you I belonged to her up until recently. She and her sister were partly involved in the events that transpired fifty years ago, and she’s already warned me about the exact patterns you’re talking about.” He frowned, glancing down at his arm. “Still … why now?”

“I have theories about that,” Rosa said. “Sometimes, a group needs to gain traction and members to make their big move. Just look at Team Rocket. Took them three years of running semi-legitimate gambling operations in Kanto before they were able to take over any part of Johto. Operations need time and money.”

“They’re just a cult,” Door muttered, “and you’re talking about them like they’re the yakuza.”

“Matrix? Good point,” Rosa replied, smiling into the rearview mirror. “But that’s what we thought about Team Plasma, and look at how they turned out. It’s no coincidence that Team Matrix is copying Plasma’s actions, right down to fighting a beginning Nuvema trainer in the Dreamyard. That takes dedication.”

Door huffed, propped her elbow on the edge of the window, and narrowed her eyes at the fiery sky. “I’m not a trainer.”

“Maybe not, but Team Matrix thinks you are. And you’re from Nuvema, which means you’re exactly what they’re looking for.”

At that, Door shot Rosa a dangerous look. “Excuse me?! I’m not some kind of virgin sacrifice here! I’ve got nothing to do with this!”

Rosa shrugged. “Maybe not. Maybe it’s not you. I don’t know. I just know that Team Matrix would probably need someone to serve as the Hilda surrogate until they can get their hands on the Electric Messiah.”

“What are you even talking about?” Door grumbled.

“You can’t tell?”

“Would I be asking?”

“Guess not,” Rosa responded through a chuckle. “All right.”

Rosa gunned the car a little. Door shifted her eyes to the window again, and she noticed that the edges of Castelia were closing in around her, obscuring her view of the sunset. It wouldn’t be long now until they came across Halcyon Labs, especially given that Rosa seemed to know where it was. She didn’t consult a map or GPS device, and as soon as traffic began to slow, she flicked her car from lane to lane and continued onward with purpose. Despite the traffic, Rosa managed to keep her speed steady, just fast enough to keep Door from taking in the sights around her, from seeing the dingy sidewalks or the flashy billboards. But as Door leaned her head against the window and glared out at the urban twilight, she knew they were there: all the signs, all the people, all the things she hated about that region.

After all, this was Castelia City. City of grandeur.

“Zekrom,” Rosa said.

Door shot a look at Rosa. “What?”

“Zekrom,” Rosa repeated. “That’s the Electric Messiah.”

At that, Door shook her head. She didn’t let it sink in because it couldn’t for her. “I … what?”

“Don’t be so surprised,” Rosa said, flashing another smirk into the rearview mirror. “I’ve been with the International Police for a few decades now, so I’ve seen my fair share of organizations like Team Matrix. Nine times out of ten, they’re after some sort of legendary pokémon, so it’s not as if name-dropping another one is all that unusual. But in this case, if Team Matrix is deliberately mimicking Team Plasma like I think they are, then they’re definitely after Zekrom.”

“And you’re certain of this,” Geist said.

Bringing her eyes back to the road, Rosa nodded. “Positive. That’s the only electric-type pokémon Team Plasma was after. It wouldn’t make sense to call Reshiram an Electric Messiah, would it?”

“Yes, but…” Geist yanked the cord out of his arm and leaned forward a little more. “They were referring to the Electric Messiah as a ‘he.’ Zekrom is genderless.”

“So? Meloetta is genderless, and everyone thinks that’s a she.”

Geist sat back, smoothing a hand over his arm to click it shut. “I suppose. But what’s all this business about the Electric Messiah rising up?”

Rosa shrugged. “Beats me. Public knowledge about the whereabouts of Zekrom and Reshiram is highly limited, so it’s impossible for Team Matrix to obtain that information.”

“How can you be so sure?”

She smiled. “Let’s just say I have my reasons.” Glancing back at the street, she dodged a car and added, “But anyway, Team Matrix’s plan is pointless. They won’t be able to find Zekrom by copying Team Plasma.”

By that point, Door had had enough. She hovered at the edge of this conversation, listening to Rosa and Geist puzzle over Team Matrix and Zekrom, but now? Now that Rosa had casually informed her she was somehow vital to their plans to find a legendary, a very important, conveniently avoided topic nagged at her mind. So she shot Rosa the foulest of looks before she started in on that very subject.

“Okay, that’s nice and all,” Door said, “but isn’t it, you know, kinda a bad thing that Team Matrix is after a completely innocent girl who has nothing to do with Zekrom? So, what am I supposed to do? Just run from Team Matrix until they give up trying or until you round them up?”

“Of course not,” Rosa replied. “Team Plasma’s timeline in Unova is pretty well-known, thanks to the players involved. All you have to do is avoid being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you’ll be fine.”

Door stared at Rosa for a long while. In the ensuing silence, the car crossed into thickest part of the city, swerving to dodge heavy traffic that seemed to have sprung out of nowhere. Gazing at the wall of cars all around her, Door turned Rosa’s words of advice over in her head.

“No offense,” she said at last, “but that’s a stupid plan.”

Rosa shrugged. “Probably so, but until we can figure out what, specifically, Team Matrix is after, that’s the only plan we’ve got. We’re headed to Halcyon Labs, right? Maybe someone there could reconfigure your Companion with bodyguard protocols to ensure Team Matrix doesn’t try to push you along their schedule anyway.”

“Excuse me?!” Door snapped. Her hand clutched the handle of the door roughly, and she leaned in to glare at Rosa. Just before she spoke, she jabbed a thumb towards Geist. “First off, if you’re going on about this thing, it’s not my Companion. I’m just delivering it to my grandma because apparently, it’s important somehow to all of this too. Second, I’m not getting a nanny, period. I’m going back to Striaton to see Amanita about an internship she’d offered, and that’s going to be the end of this little story, okay? I’m not getting involved with those Matrix dumbasses. I just want the reassurance that they’re not going to come after me anyway.”

She felt a hand clamp over her wrist, and looking up, she saw Geist narrow his eyes at her.

“Door. I am a ‘he,’ not an ‘it,’ and furthermore, I find serving as your bodyguard just as undesirable a situation as you do,” he said. His voice was low, calm, and quiet, but it sent chills down Door’s spine. As he transferred his glance to Rosa, he frowned, mimed inhaling deeply, and said, “But Door’s right. If her presence will help Team Matrix in any way, you can’t expect her to simply avoid them. They’ll do anything they can to ensure that she’s exactly where they need her to be at all times. That’s not all, either. They had planted agents in Amanita Fennel’s laboratory, even without prior knowledge of what Dr. Fennel was working on specifically. From what Professor Ironwood has told me, neither of her assistants have any ties to Team Matrix, yet it would make more sense, if Matrix was indeed looking for a new trainer, to plant an agent in Professor Ironwood’s laboratory. So … why Dr. Fennel?”

Door realized right away that Geist wasn’t asking about Amanita. His line of thought seemed like a non sequitur if no one knew about everything she and Geist had gone through, but she knew there was an implied question there. One that made her instinctively reach into her pocket for Jack’s poké ball.

In the rearview mirror, Door saw Rosa press her lips together. Then, she turned the wheel, easing the car down another street. Outside, the signs continued to glitter and pulse with every second, and out of the corner of her eye, Door could finally see it all: the car-filled roads, the softly-glowing pedestrian walkways full of tourists and people, the concrete-and-glass buildings stretching skyward all around her, the dark crevices and canyons between buildings and underneath the roads, and all the little details that made Castelia the neon labyrinth it always was. Even with half her mind devoted to the conversation, Door began to feel a sense of claustrophobia, a sensation of the buildings closing in around her and the darkened spaces deepening with every second. It made her edgy and fouled her temper even more as she waited for Rosa’s response.

“Dr. Fennel asked that very same question,” Rosa said after a long moment, “and I’m sad to say I can’t answer that right now. Not until I figure out what precisely they’re doing. You see, the two of you might have been working on a piece of the overall puzzle, but the fact of the matter is this is a lot bigger than just you. It’s about legendary pokémon, and by sheer coincidence, it just so happens that Unova’s dealing with a whole host of its own problems and wouldn’t be able to defend itself from an organized attack. So if Dr. Fennel was working on something that might make summoning and capturing pokémon easier—and believe me, I’ll be scouring the data you’ve given me with that thought in mind—it’s only part of their plan.”

She glanced into the rearview mirror, and Door couldn’t help but look into her eyes. Door shuddered, realizing how different from Hilda’s they were. Sure, they were the same color, and sure, there were similar crows’ feet etched into the corners, but whereas Hilda’s were friendly and glittering, Rosa’s were hard and burning with raw determination.

“I apologize for insinuating you needed protection, Miss Hornbeam,” Rosa said, “and for speaking on your behalf, Geist. I just think it’s best if the two of you lay low for a while. The champion and I are doing everything we can to stop Team Matrix, and you don’t need to get involved. Same goes with Professor Ironwood’s niece.”

At the mention of Professor Ironwood’s niece, Door’s expression faltered. “Wait. Ironwood’s niece? What’s Blair got to do with it?”

“Think about it,” Rosa replied. “It’s true that you stopped Team Matrix from stealing all of the starters and that you were in attendance at the Accumula rally, but you weren’t alone for the others. What’re the odds that Team Matrix noticed you during the rally? What if you aren’t the only one marked as a potential stand-in for Hilda?”

Door swore internally. It was true. Who did Team Matrix attack first in the Dreamyard? Blair. Who else was with her in Wellspring Cave? Blair. Who was supposed to be there in Nacrene City, just in time for the theft of the skull? Blair. Door bit her lip and looked out the window, letting the revelation sink in. She didn’t even think to record Blair’s number so she could keep in touch, so she had no way of knowing how Blair was doing. If Door stepped away from whatever was going on, then what would happen to Blair?

The car slowed to a stop alongside several other police vehicles. Refocusing her attention, Door realized they were in front of a tall, black skyscraper standing straight and tall next to sharp, angular, glass-covered buildings. The building was plain, just a black facade with a single decoration on it: a pair of white wings crossed one another, glowing softly in comparison with the bright and gaudy electric advertisements covering the rest of the block. To Door, the whole structure seemed out-of-place. Alien. Even the logo, which had seemed so warm and cartoonish when it decorated the signatures of her parents’ emails, seemed stark and glaring, like an eye set into a soulless, steel face.

Abruptly, the car door opened, and Rosa stepped aside to let her out. Door bit her lip, pulled herself out of the car, and walked a few more paces until she stood at the edge of the walkway. This was her first true look at Castelia City: a perfectly formed sphere of light, suspended above cracks of pitch darkness. Well-lit pedestrian walkways extended out from the sides of each building, creating ribbons of concrete and plexiglas suspended above unseen districts. As she crossed the bridge from the edge of the street to the pedestrian walkway, Door looked over the wall at its edge to the darkness below. She couldn’t even see the surface streets, the cracked and barely-maintained slabs of asphalt where the true locals of Castelia lived. That was the point, though: to generate lights so bright, so dazzling, that visitors would forget all about whatever might be lurking beneath them.

And that, along with the thought of Blair and Team Matrix and meeting her mother for the first time in months, made Door sick.

A hand rested on her shoulder, and she violently shuddered at the sensation. Glancing up, she caught Rosa’s eye as the agent gave her a steady look.

“We’re going to do everything we can to keep both you and Professor Ironwood’s niece safe,” she said. “Until then, please be patient and please stay with people you know.”

She patted Door’s shoulder, and that gesture made Door feel a little sicker. Door watched Rosa walk with purpose into Halcyon Labs, and in that moment, she suddenly felt very small and naked amidst the lights and prospects of an uncertain future. And as she stood there, loitering at the front doors of her inheritance, she couldn’t help but ask herself a single question.

What would happen to Blair if she backed out?

“Door.”

Shaking off her last fragments of confusion, Door shot Geist a glance. He had crossed half of the bridge to Halcyon’s front entrance, and right there, he stopped to stare at her. Something about him shifted in her mind. Perhaps it was the fact that she knew going back to Nuvema or even Striaton was becoming less and less of a possibility for her. Perhaps it was the fact that she had no doubt now that he wasn’t a real person. Perhaps it was, despite the fact that he wasn’t real, the look on his face seemed genuinely upset—genuinely angry or frustrated or…

It was at that moment that Door finally realized he wasn’t just staring at her. He was glaring.

“What?” she asked.

He exhaled. “Agent Alvarado has already gone inside. Your grandmother and mother are waiting for us. Don’t you want to get this over with?”

Door frowned. She wanted to ask why he looked so resentful. Sure, she knew. She had, after all, intentionally spoken about him as if he was just a thing, and to be perfectly fair, she wasn’t in the least bit sorry about that. He was a thing. Period.

True, he may not have been manufactured on a conveyor belt in a factory like most other Companions were, but he was still a thing—a being made of rubber and metal and wires and so forth, whose entire personality was fabricated by a human being and controlled by circuits. All of the thoughts he had, all of the feelings that could have defined “anger” and “hurt” and whatever else he might have felt as a result of the way Door spoke about him, were just emulations. They were things determined by a computer in an effort to resemble what a living, breathing human being would expect a person to experience.

Geist was fake. It was that simple. And Door kept saying this to herself, even as she walked briskly past him and entered the building.

She didn’t care if he was following her.

The door whirred open, giving way to a pristine lobby. Everything inside was neat and orderly, from the shining, black walls and white floor to the fake plants clustered around the faux-wood reception desk at the far corner. Even the soft hum of Muzak coming in from the speakers sounded exactly right to Door somehow. Uncannily so. In fact, everything seemed perfect. Quiet. Professional. Efficient.

Including the police officers who loitered around the reception desk.

“What’s with the suits?” Door asked, eying them warily.

“A precaution,” Rosa replied as she led Door to the reception desk. “We’ve got an ongoing investigation involving a criminal organization centered around Companions, after all. Companion-related crime isn’t a new thing, but this entire business about Companions and free will is. If anyone knows anything about Companions and that, it’s probably someone in here.” She grinned at Door and added, “Besides, I told you. We’re doing everything we can to ensure your safety, Miss Hornbeam.”

Door narrowed her eyes at Rosa but said nothing in return. Instead, she glanced around the room as Rosa leaned over the reception desk. The agent spoke in hushed tones to the well-dressed and preened male receptionist—a human being, Door noted, rather than the Companion she had expected—but Door wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. She was busy letting her eyes wander, taking in the polished starkness of the lobby, until they focused on a portrait on the far wall.

Furrowing her eyebrows at it, she strode past the officers—whose nods of respect she completely ignored—until she stood in front of it. There, in full color, a young woman sat in front of a bank of computers and smiled outwards, into the lobby. Everything about her screamed “proper": her lab coat and green dress were spotless and pressed, one slim ankle was crossed neatly behind the other, and her long, manicured hands were folded in her lap. Even the tidy way her wavy, orange hair fell about her slender shoulders made her seem perfect.

Door’s eyes fell onto the plaque beneath the portrait. Silently, she read the words etched on its brass surface.



“That’s not right.”

At the sound of his voice, Door shot a look towards Geist. He stood beside her, hands folded behind his back, eyes fixed steadily on the plaque.

“The quote is,” he said, “‘If you have the ability to do something good, you might as well do good. Otherwise, you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering how you could have made the world a little brighter.’ And she never said it. She believed it, though.”

“I thought you couldn’t remember her,” she said.

“I can’t.”

“So how do you know?”

He glared at her without turning his head away from the portrait. “Dr. Fennel.”

Cringing at his expression, Door took a step to the side and swallowed. “Oh. Right.”

A long moment of silence lapsed between them. Door shifted on her feet and stared at the painting. Geist was more than a little angry at her, but why did that bother her so much? Why did it make this moment so awkward? She was right, after all; he was just a machine … right?

Still, the silence was cold and uncomfortable, and seeing as Rosa wasn’t about to swoop in and interrupt, Door found herself scrambling to fill the void … if only to distract herself from how angry Geist seemed to be.

“So,” she said, drawing out that single syllable before continuing, “who said it?”

Geist closed his eyes and exhaled—or did something that sounded like he was. And it wasn’t enough that he took the time to mimic a long breath outward, either. It sounded like a sigh of exasperation: another emotion that Door was surprised Geist could emulate so well. Geist was trying to show her how much he disapproved of her, and that only made the tension between them feel all the more unbearable to Door.

Which, she realized, was the point.

Door decided then that Geist wasn’t just an object. He was a prick too.

After a moment, he finally spoke. “Who do you think said it? The only person she respected enough to—”

Before he could finish, an explosion shook the building. Door snapped her eyes towards the ceiling, towards the source of the commotion. Behind her, she could hear the police officers jump into action, shouting over walkie-talkies as their boots slammed onto the floor. As if by magic, Rosa was at her side in the next instant, and before Door could protest, she grabbed her elbow and walked her towards the center of the lobby. All the while, Door frantically looked from the frazzled receptionist to the police to her escort.

“What’s going on?” Door asked. “Where’s my mom?”

Rosa rounded on her and planted her hands on her shoulders. “Miss Hornbeam, I’m about to tell you something you might not like, but you have to promise me you’ll stay calm, all right?”

Door tried to shrug the agent off, but when it was clear Rosa wasn’t about to let go, she switched to glaring at her. “I’m fine. Where’s my mom?”

“Upstairs,” Rosa replied. “Probably a floor or two down from where that explosion took place. We’re not quite sure yet.”

In response, Door tried to tear herself away, intending on making a beeline for the elevators, but Rosa’s hands gripped her shoulders a little harder. Door sucked in a sharp breath and glared hard at Rosa. Her shoulders were beginning to ache under Rosa’s death grip, but she couldn’t push herself to care.

“What’s your problem?!” she snapped. “Lemme go! I’m going upstairs!”

“Not without me,” Rosa said.

“I don’t care if you and the rest of these cops go with me,” Door said. “Just let me go upstairs!”

“Miss Hornbeam, listen to me,” Rosa responded.

At last, Door wrested herself away from the agent and took a step back. “Just say it, okay?!”

And then, she stopped. Throughout their drive across the Skyarrow Bridge, Rosa looked at her with a full array of emotions. Determination. Pride. Slyness. But the look she was giving Door at that very moment was something different. Blank. Solemn and sunken.

Something was wrong. That much Door knew.

And she knew it even more when Rosa opened her mouth.

But before Rosa could speak, someone else did. Someone familiar, using the building’s PA system.

“Goooood evening, Halcyon Labs!” Belle said. “May I have your attention please? This is a hostile takeover, courtesy of your friendly neighborhood revolutionists, Team Matrix! If Miss Doreen Hornbeam is in the building, could she and her cute little Companion Geist make their way up to the executive office on the tippy-top floor? That’d be just peachy! And by ‘peachy,’ I mean ‘a situation in which I won’t have to shoot somebody’s grandmother.’ Thanks!”

With that, the PA system went dead, and Door stared at the speakers. She was acutely aware of Geist next to her, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see that his expression was no longer one of anger.

It was one of rage.



> GALATEA27.txt
> Author: Lanette Hamilton
> Notes: From the personal audio research notes of Lanette Hamilton. Transcript only; sound file has been lost. Audio track transcribed by Bebe Larson. Rest of video was lost in LFA Incident.

LANETTE: Project Galatea, follow-up, day thirty-seven. Series Alpha Zero-One, as he would like to be referred to in these notes, is functioning perfectly. Spirits seem to be up. System has no issues in syncing, even when the chassis is brought out of sleep mode. All in all, it actually works better than I thought it would.

Well, except for one thing. The chassis isn’t really calibrated perfectly. I mean, in my defense, I forgot to take into consideration that organic tissue, human tactile strength, and so on and so forth are significantly less exceptional than a titanium alloy skeletal structure compounded with a hydraulic pseudomuscular system.

Which is to say that I am nearly out of glassware.

Zero-One means well. He wants to assume the role of my companion, I think, so he wants to be as useful around the house as he possibly can be. It’s just that we haven’t figured out how to account for his … um. For the abilities that are inherent with his form. [whispers away from the microphone] Geez, that’s really weird to say out loud. [back into the microphone] In any case, I’ve been working with him to devise a series of learning exercises. I don’t really want to recalibrate the chassis or the LFA system after I’ve spent so much time getting them to sync up properly, so instead, the next best solution is to get Zero-One himself to—

████: [at a distance] Lanette?

LANETTE: Oh. [louder] Over here!

[sounds of footsteps]

LANETTE: Sorry. I was just—hey, is that one of my glasses? Oh gods above, you figured it out! Hold on. Let me put a new tape in. We’ve got to get this down!

[end recording]

Door, oh my gosh. =P

I do like the idea of Rosa working with the International Police and amusing how she's all causal when she mentions Team Matrix's true objective is Zekrom. It being the Electric Messiah should be obivious, don't know why it didn't click for me the first time lol. But yeah, I am curious when there will come a point Team Matrix will go on a totally different direction from Plasma.

After reading the pride month sidestory, Door worrying about Blair's safety is sweet.

I admit I forgot Team Plasma did visit Castelia City in one of the buildings, but Door's mother and grandmother being held hostage does shakes thing up and I look forward to where you'll get with that.

Repliiiiiies~!



It's late on a Sunday, so no time for pleasantries beyond a thank you to the readers. LET'S DO THIS.

---

Door exhaled. Her fingers rolled Jack’s poké ball over in her hand—slowly, carefully, with each tip pressing the device’s plastic surface into her palm. The elevator around her hummed, and as she stared at the reflective steel surface ahead of her, she tried to focus on all the possibilities of what to expect next. Rosa stood at her left, fidgeting with a radio in her palm the same way Door was playing with Jack’s poké ball. Geist stood at Door’s right with his eyes fixed on hers through the reflection. No one said anything.

Technically, Belle had ordered Door and Geist to come up alone. And that was the trouble, really. What would happen if the elevator opened, and Team Matrix saw Rosa? Door clenched her jaw and thought about who was up there. Her grandmother, who had practically dumped this entire journey on her. Her mother, who had abandoned Door and her father in Nuvema. A staff full of people Door couldn’t care about, even though she knew she would one day lead them. On the one hand, Door knew the right thing would be to do all that she could to protect them, to save them from whatever Team Matrix actually was. On the other, she couldn’t help but wonder…

“See anything on the security probes?” Rosa asked.

Geist nodded. “Hydreigon.”

Rosa cursed under her breath and pulled out a poké ball. “Anything else?”

“Two Companions. Five humans. The humans are armed with pokémon; the Companions are simply … armed. Belle lied, though. Brigette Hamilton-Hornbeam is not up there, but I can’t say the same for Virginia Johnson. Fortunately, your men are in the service elevator, as ordered. Unfortunately, I’m not getting a reading on the progress of that elevator. I think its signal may be blocked.”

Rosa cursed again.

“We’re almost there,” Geist said. “Are you ready, Door?”

She nodded. Took a deep breath. Then released Jack in front of her. The dewott chirped but realized he was facing a steel wall and glanced back at his trainer. She kept her eyes trained on the elevator doors.

“Jack,” she said, “when the doors open, take down anything that attacks with Razor Shell. Don’t attack unless something else does.”

The dewott saluted and barked quietly, then faced forward. Behind her, Door could hear Rosa shift, and in the reflection of the wall, she saw the woman pull out her own poké ball. But Rosa didn’t summon anything. Not yet.

Door took a deep breath. This was a terrible plan, but it was a plan. In a few seconds, the doors would open. Door would walk through first, followed by Geist. Together, they would be the distraction for Rosa and the small number of men coming up the service elevator. Geist and Door would lead Door’s mother back to the elevators while Rosa and the Castelia police would hold back Belle and whoever was with her. All the while, the police on the floors below them would sweep the building for the rest of Team Matrix. Simple. Straightforward.

What actually happened was this: the doors opened. Door and Geist walked forward, and a pair of sandile lunged at them immediately. Jack unsheathed both of his shells and sprang into action. Water swirled around him and formed glowing, blue blades around his scalchops, just as he brought them down onto the first sandile. The crocodile crashed onto the ground, sparks flying from the slash in his back, and at that very same second, its partner bit down hard on Jack’s shoulder. Jack screamed and slashed backwards, burying one of his blades deep into the second sandile. It jaws parted and emitted a mechanical screech, and a second later, the sandile spilled onto the floor next to Jack. As soon as he was freed, the dewott rose to his full height, and there, he stopped and panted, gripping his shoulder with one paw. Blood blossomed around the scalchop still clutched in his palm while he glared at the second sandile.

As soon as the sandile fell still, Door stormed forward. Ahead of her, beyond the wreckage of the sandile, a pair of Matrix grunts stood tall and at Door through pitch-black visors. Behind them, perched on a receptionist’s desk, were Belle and a servine. Belle grinned wide as soon as she saw Door, but her hand remained steady, aiming a gun at the head of a quietly panicking floor receptionist. And finally, to complete what Door realized was a set-up, there was Starr, standing behind Belle, in front of a pair of mahogany doors, with one wrist wired to a panel on the wall.

“Okay, kids,” Belle said. “How about you stand down for now?”

The grunts recalled their broken sandile and turned to face each other in unison. Jack scrambled forward to collect his fallen scalchop, but none of the grunts moved to stop him. Instead, they took several steps backwards in perfect sync, until they stood at the walls.

Rosa started forward, her hand flicking outward to expand the ball in her palm. “Belle—”

Clearing her throat, Belle bobbed the gun up and down—not enough to move it away from the receptionist’s head but enough to make a point.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she said. “Be a good girl and put that poké ball away. Kid, you can keep your dewott out. I don’t care. That’s why my good buddy Monkshood is here.”

She stopped to pet the servine as if it was a dog. At her touch, Monkshood narrowed his eyes and lifted his head. His tongue flicked between his pointed lips, and a low hiss rushed from his throat. The display buried a cold, sick lump in Door’s stomach. How could it, a real pokémon stolen from half-decent people, enjoy being touched by something like Belle?

As if sensing her question, Belle said, “We’re getting to be good friends, you know. He loves hanging out with me. Not bad for a stolen pokémon, right?”

“Give him back, Belle.” Door punctuated her words with a half-step forward. Her muscles stiffened, and she had hoped she looked as intimidating as she intended on being.

“No, I don’t think I will, Doreen,” she replied. Then, she snickered. “Doreen. No wonder you didn’t want to tell me what your name was! Your grandma had to tell me. ‘Don’t you dare lay your filthy hands on my Doreen!’ She’s such a riot.” Belle smiled broadly. “Anyway, there’s no point in talking to me about it, is there? Go on. Go meet Lady Magdalene in the flesh. She’s been dying to meet you.”

With that, Starr twitched his hand, and the doors beside him swung open on their own. Door shifted her eyes back and forth, from the stoic Starr to the smirking Belle, until the mahogany doors fully opened before her.

Taking a deep breath, she started forward. Jack trotted by her side, and she didn’t even need to look up to sense Geist following her. But Rosa, for reasons she couldn’t figure out right then, stayed behind.

Beyond the doors was an office, and this office was just as clean, just as black-and-white, as anything else in that tower. A black, glass-topped desk stood ahead of her, and uncomfortable-looking white chairs sat in front of it. The only color in the room were a few potted plants in the corner, a portrait of Door’s grandmother…

…and a gaping hole in the far wall, through which was a hydreigon and a retreating helicopter. Door no longer had any question as to how the other occupants of the room—or, in fact, anyone in Team Matrix—got in. Evidently, they weren’t aiming for subtlety.

Neither was her mother, who threw her arms around Door and embraced her tightly the second she walked in.

To be fair, Virginia Johnson was not a particularly cold person unless business was involved, but this act of affection immediately threw Door off. Everything about the hug seemed wrong, from her mother’s bony frame jabbing into her side to the scents of expensive perfume and soap flooding her nose. Door pulled away, swinging her eyes up to look into her mother’s long face for the first time in months, and she was surprised to see an expression of pure worry etched across it. Although Virginia was, as always, neatly put together in a white suit and meticulously done black hair, the lines of her face showed through her makeup, and her blue eyes shone behind her polished glasses. This was not the strong, independent woman Door had always known. This was someone else. Someone panicked.

So something was most definitely wrong.

“Doreen,” she said. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“Mom, knock it off!” Door groaned as she pulled away. “What’s going on? Where’s grandma?”

“With Mr. Oppenheimer,” a third voice said.

Door glanced behind her, toward the corner of the room she had yet to inspect, to see two other figures. The first was an ordinary Matrix grunt, but the second … the second was the speaker, the woman from Accumula. She sauntered from her place to the hydreigon in the hole in the wall. Reaching up, she smoothed her hands over its central head, and it responded with a low growl and a nudge.

“My friend has decided that it would be best to speak with her privately,” the woman explained. “We will return her unharmed as soon as the Electric Messiah rises. It is not within our interests to do anything ill to her. We simply wish to convince her.”

“Of what?” Door growled.

Door took a step forward, only to have her mother’s arms circle her and hold her back. At the same time, the Companion focused her hazel eyes onto Door.

“That her sister made a grave mistake,” she said. Then, tilting her head, she glanced at Virginia. “Miss Johnson, have you told her the truth about Companions?”

“I’ve never lied to my daughter,” she spat. “Despite what you think, Dr. Hamilton invented the Companions with the best intentions, and Doreen has nothing to do with it.”

The Companion’s eyes flicked to Geist, then settled back on Door. It was a quick motion, but it was one that Door couldn’t help but notice.

“I see. Well then, Doreen, I suppose I should introduce myself.” She pulled away from her hydreigon and curtsied. “My name is Lady Magdalene. I am the intended partner of the Electric Messiah. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Door clicked her tongue and looked away. “Whatever.”

Her mother rose to her full height. “What do you want from us? To stop us from producing Companions?”

“My goodness, no!” Magdalene replied. She brought her hand to her chin and touched her bottom lip with her fingertips. “You are our parents! Without you, we cannot be born! But you must understand, no child may stay a child forever. Just as your Doreen is reaching maturity, so too are the Companions. You are our parents, not our masters, and someday, you must let us experience the world for ourselves.”

“So why do you want Zekrom?” Door asked.

At last, her mother drew herself away, only to stare at her daughter. “Zekrom?”

Ignoring her, Magdalene smiled. “Simple, my dear child. You know the legends of Zekrom, yes?”

“Everyone does,” Door spat. “Zekrom. Dragon of ideals. Some prince used it a long time ago to settle a war with his brother and blah, blah, blah. They tell kids these things when they’re young because it’s cute. Next question.”

Magdalene covered her mouth with the back of her hand, but the move didn’t do much to obscure her wide grin. “It’s unwise to speak ill of the legends, my dear. Nonetheless, you know them well. I could not ask for a better explanation.”

“Good. Now you owe me one,” Door snapped.

“Indeed I do.” Magdalene shifted her eyes to Virginia. “Many people do, it seems. You see, Doreen, history is a complicated thing.”

“Then tell me the simple version.”

“Very well.”

Magdalene swept her hand down and forward, motioning to the grunt at her side. At her signal, he strode towards her with long strides until he was just behind her. With an angelic smile, Magdalene nodded to him, then reached up to place her hands on the hydreigon’s head once more.

“The Electric Messiah has promised to lead us to a new era,” she said. “He has spoken these words to Oppenheimer, and Oppenheimer has spoken them to me. Together, Oppenheimer and I wish to bring about a new existence—one of hope and freedom. All we need to do is to resurrect the truth so that we may obtain our ideals, and in this way, we will find the key to the promised land from which the Electric Messiah will be reborn.”

Door furrowed her eyebrows at Magdalene as she struggled to parse what the Companion had told her. “Yeah, I don’t get a single word you just said. Layman’s terms, please?”

“Oh, it’s all quite simple,” Magdalene replied.

Behind her, the grunt moved, reaching up for the hydreigon. Door shifted on her feet, but before she could act, Geist was suddenly in front of her, whipping a poké ball forward.

“Antares, Incinerate!” he cried.

The ball split open with a flash of light, and the flash of light quickly dissolved into a red blur that shot towards Magdalene and her hydreigon. Halfway across the office, the pansear stopped, opened his mouth, and spat out a stream of fire. Antares’s attack cut across the office, struck the hydreigon’s shoulder, and flared outward, driving the grunt back and forcing the dragon to rear its head. Magdalene whirled around and planted her hands on her pokémon’s neck to calm it down, but despite her efforts, the dragon threw back its three heads and roared. Door stumbled, crumpling downward as her mother tried desperately to hold her up, and when the two of them looked back, Magdalene had already mounted her pokémon. Magdalene’s eyes were illuminated and fixed on Door, first with a stony glare and then with something soft and snake-like.

“Follow the course, Doreen,” she said. “Meet us in Nimbasa, or we’ll see to it that another takes your place. Someone must play the chosen one’s part. Someone must wield the stone. And as for you…” She shifted her eyes onto Geist and tilted her head. “I have one final message for you.”

Geist said nothing. He merely tensed as he stared at Magdalene. When she realized she wasn’t going to get a response, Magdalene’s smile widened.

“Remember me,” she said.

And with that, she was gone, her hydreigon shooting into the air with a single flap of its wings.

It took a few more seconds for the wind to die down, and when it did, it was punctuated with a shout. Door glanced back to the corner of the room to see the Matrix grunt suspended in mid air, held in place by the psychic force of a reuniclus floating next to him. Virginia pulled her arms away from Door and stood tall next to her daughter. She clasped her long, thin hands behind her back as she glared at the doorway.

“You let her escape,” she said.

“My apologies, ma’am,” Rosa replied.

The agent entered the room and snapped to attention in the doorway. Behind her, Door could see an amoonguss standing in the center of the hall, looming over the sleeping forms of both Matrix grunts that had been standing guard outside. Surrounding it was a group of Castelia police, each with gas masks fixed to their faces—presumably to protect them from whatever the amoonguss had released.

“I needed to deal with a few other issues before I could reach you,” Rosa explained, motioning to the grunts. “We’ve got the Matrix admin and her Companion, and we’re taking them in for questioning. Given the fact that the Matrix leader has just revealed to us where she and her followers will strike next, we’ve got all we need to coordinate a raid. We’ll get your mother-in-law back safely and wrap this up before anyone really gets hurt.”

“I should hope so, officer.” Virginia settled her stone-serious glower onto Door next and added, “Doreen, I’m sorry you had to be involved. Stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes; I just need to speak with the police.”

Up until that point, Door had only been focused on what Magdalene had said. About how someone needed to wield the stone. About how if Door didn’t do it, they would find someone else who would. Sure, Door didn’t have any idea what Magdalene meant by “the stone,” but she certainly knew who she meant by “another to take her place.” And because of that, she thought of Blair and reached into her pocket to wrap her hand around her holo caster.

“No,” Door said.

“Doreen?” Virginia replied. Her voice was low and smooth, and it was more of a warning than a question.

Despite Virginia’s tone, Door looked into her mother’s eyes. “No. I have to go.”

“Go where?” Virginia asked. “I’ll arrange for an escort.”

“No, I mean I have to go on a journey!” Door snapped.

Geist stiffened. “Door, what’s this about? I thought you—”

She held up a hand, palm out. “Listen, there’s this girl who’s gotten involved with all this Matrix bull too. Her name is Blair, she’s Professor Ironwood’s niece, and she’s … I can’t even really explain why she’s all that important without sounding stupid, but I’m not going to stand by and let these jerks turn her into a pawn instead. I have to go out there, and I’m going to meet them in Nimbasa to show them I’m doing what they say.”

For a few seconds, Virginia stared at her daughter quietly through narrow eyes. Then, she snapped her head forward and started for the door.

“Out of the question,” she said.

“Mom, she could be in danger!” Door protested.

“Your grandmother could be in danger, and you’re proposing to put yourself right in the thick of it too!” Virginia snapped. “Do you understand that?”

“No, I don’t! I’m fifteen, Mom! I have pokémon! I can take care of—”

“You’re to stay here, and that’s final,” Virginia replied. Then, she flashed her eyes towards Geist. “You must be Geist. I’m sorry for all the trouble my daughter has caused you so far, but please keep her here until I get back. I have no doubt you understand why.”

“I do, ma’am,” Geist responded.

With one final nod, Virginia left the room. Geist closed the door behind her, pressed his hand against its wood, and pivoted on his heels to face Door. Antares scurried right to him and leapt up to perch on his shoulders, and the two of them stared down at their partner. In response, Door narrowed her eyes at Geist and crouched, bracing herself to rush the Companion if she had to. As if to highlight her intent, Jack padded to a spot in front of her with a determined look on his round face and his scalchops clutched in his paws.

“Just to remind you, you’ve got a barely-trained fire-type from a gym I’ve already beaten, and I have a water-type who’s been in two gym battles,” she growled. “Are you gonna stop me?”

Geist smiled and lowered his eyes. “You still want to challenge the Unova gym leaders as preparation for Team Matrix, yes?”

“Of course I do,” she snapped.

“Good.” Geist clasped his hands behind his back. “On the wall to your left, just behind that potted plant, there’s a hidden door leading to a fire escape. It’s thirty floors to street level, but if you let me carry you, I can get you down there in minutes. Follow my lead, and you’ll be at the Castelia Gym before they realize you’re gone. If you’re lucky and do exactly as I say during your gym battle, you can be as close to Castelia’s city limits as I can get you with your third badge in hand before anyone puts together where you’ve gone. Understand?”

Door relaxed, her frustrated expression shifting quickly into one of confusion. “I … what?”

“We don’t have much time, Door. Yes or no?”

She shook her head. “You’re … helping me? Why?”

“Several reasons,” Geist responded. “First, I’m your Companion, not your mother’s. Officially, even. While I’d be happy to obey anyone else’s directions if they benefit you, I’m less inclined to follow orders that hinder you—as per the Second Law, as you might imagine. Second, I was quite impressed with what you said about Blair, and I’d like to do anything I can to keep her safe and rescue your grandmother. Third and most importantly…”

He trailed off as he walked over to the plant he had indicated a moment ago. Pulling it aside, he pressed on the wall and slid a portion open to reveal a well-lit stairway beyond it.

“I have no idea what Lady Magdalene is talking about either, but I can tell that this involves me just as much as it involves you. I have no doubt she was lying when she said anyone can handle the stone … whatever that is,” he said. He glanced over his shoulder at Door. “So. Are you coming?”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “But … aren’t you pissed off at me or something?”

“I was, but there are more important things at stake here. Sometimes, it’s best to set aside personal feelings to do what’s right,” he said. Then, he jerked his head towards the staircase. “Now come on. The guards will be back at any moment.”

With a smirk, Door recalled Jack and strode forward. As soon as she stepped into the doorway to the staircase, she glanced up at Geist.

“By the way … I’m sorry about what I said. About you, I mean,” she said.

With a small grin, Geist ushered her into the stairwell and closed the door behind him.

“Think nothing of it,” he finished.



> UNTITLED.txt
> Author: Lanette Hamilton
> Notes: From the personal audio research notes of Lanette Hamilton. Transcript only; sound file has been lost. Audio track transcribed by Bebe Larson. Rest of video was lost in LFA Incident.

[Recording begins with about eight seconds of silence.]

LANETTE: Project Galatea, follow-up, day 40. In celebration of his progress and to test how he handles high-traffic areas, I took Zero-One to Cerulean City today. He’s … he’s fine. The personality core functioned properly. LFA synchronization held up despite the strain from the sensory feedback. Um…

[pause]

It’s the public. The Cerulean gym leader seemed understanding, especially after I’d explained everything to her. [chuckle, strained voice] She … she almost acted as if she wasn’t surprised. Maybe she really wasn’t.

I like Misty. She, um. She helped me get adjusted to life in Cerulean. [swallows audibly] It was hard, the first few weeks after Christa left. It’s too quiet up here. But Misty…

[pause]

I appreciated what she did for me. Then and today.

[pause—LANETTE breathes in]

But, um, the Cerulean residents…

[end recording]