There was a station. There was a station in the Highlands. 

He blinked, trying to figure out what exactly a station was, and, more importantly, what it was doing here. Because yesterday on his last patrol, there was very much not a station in the Highlands. 

The steps were uniform, smooth, like pottery. Not hewn and placed, or cut into the rock. It felt well maintained as he walked up them, but he would hesitate to call them new. Which was absurd, because again, this was not here yesterday.

Standing on the platform, more and more stood out to him as important. It was a large, uniform platform of rock– concrete; he’d remembered it being used in construction at Jubilife Village. The architecture was a bit old fashioned [what?], but there was something homey about it, familiar.

Walking further in, there was a steep cutoff, with no boundary to denote that fact. Where was the yellow line? He paused, Yellow line? He’d used the turn of phrase before, usually to ask someone to give him some space, but never before had he actually felt bereft of the physical thing. It was a metaphor that brought him comfort using made up words.

Odd, but he’d been living his entire life a step off from normal, parallel tracks to those around him. And, as much as his body screamed to stay behind this [should be there] yellow line, he was curious. Walking right up to the edge, he looked down and saw rails. Just a short set, long as the station only. 

Another thing he’d made up— tracks were not something to be stuck on, they were trails made by Pokémon or humans to follow. But now he was looking down and he knew for a fact that these were tracks. And he knew even more so that they were what he’d always spoken about. His head was starting to ache.

Nothing could come up these tracks, rendering this station useless. The thought immediately brought him guilt. It was a beautiful structure, and he didn’t even know what was supposed to come up, so maybe he was judging it too harshly. 

He took a step back, safely behind the- a safe distance away from the tracks. He didn’t know what to make of all this. Was it from Mighty Sinnoh? Or another pokemon, blessed with the ability to manipulate space such that this structure could spring fully formed, here on the Coronet Highlands?

With a sigh, he settled on one of the benches. It was metal, and he marveled at the fact that someone would make such a uniform and large structure out of that and not wood. He didn’t know what he was waiting for, but he knew he couldn’t get back to his patrol yet.

It felt right to wait at the station. Lonely, in equal measure. Someone was supposed to be beside him. Maybe the man who looked like him would’ve been them. He released Gliscore.

It regarded him with a confused expression, ears swiveling around to try and catch the sound of danger and finding none. Its face was grinning though.

Ingo coughed into his fist, feeling suddenly embarrassed, but did not recall it. “Would you care to sit beside me, Gliscore?” It snickered but fell easily beside him. Claws hooked over the back of the bench, its wings and back to the rest of the world. He felt touched at how much it trusted him. Though maybe it only took that position because it could use its wickedly sharp tail should anything approach from behind. He chose to believe the first explanation– ‘ideals over truth, really Ingo?’ he could almost hear someone chiding him. It felt affectionate, and he once more thought that someone should be beside him.

It didn’t matter as he reached over to pet his partner between its ears, earning him a happy churr. Gliscore was here, it was his most loyal companion. He shouldn’t be getting lost in his imagination with it beside him, now.

“Do you happen to know what this station is doing here, passenger?” He finally broke the silence, the words echoing in the empty space. It should’ve been louder in here. Gliscore grumbled in response, ears pinning back for a moment. “That is alright, I fear I also do not know where these tracks lead.” He laughed, “Metaphorically speaking– the tracks do not go further than the station.”

It tilted its head at him, curious, and he explained the fact he’d found out what tracks were. Rails of wood and steel, supposed to be followed by something dangerous, if his instinct to keep a safe distance proved logical.

“I really do not know what to make of all this though. It is so familiar, but just out of reach. Like the next stop could hold all the answers.” It felt strange to say these words now that he’d actually seen this station. Better though, solid, in a way he hadn’t been in a long long time.

They stayed at the station for a while longer. Just as he was beginning to doze off, he jolted awake. The sun was beginning to dip, and while he was not as familiar with time keeping as the diamond clan, he knew he’d been there for a good couple hours.

A glance at his companion revealed it to be the one to startle him awake. Gliscore was growling, baring its teeth in a snarl.

“What is it?” He asked, eyes sweeping the station for safety hazards. No wild Pokémon graced the platform, and he saw nothing else of note either.

Gliscore huffed, making a sweeping motion at the tracks. 

He took a few steps closer, though not too close, to try and see what the fuss was about. Straining his ears, he could hear something. Steel on steel, and rumbling, like a very, very large Steelix— they were rather far from the alpha’s territory, so he hoped it was only a resemblance and the Pokémon had not decided this was the time to move up. 

Near the very end of the tracks, the air had started to waver, like it was blisteringly hot. A moment later it changed to inky black, stripes of vibrant color sliding across the surface.

He jumped back, whistling sharply for Gliscore to be on guard. A space-time distortion was a dangerous thing. This one was much, much smaller than any he’d seen before, but that did not negate the danger it could pose. 

Still, he could not bring himself to vacate the station entirely. His feet remained planted on the ground, the rumbling getting so present he could feel it up his legs. His partner followed his lead, dipping low so it could support itself on its front claws. 

“I feel as though something important—“

He was cut off, the distortion flaring wider in a single moment and something very large barreling through. Larger than anything else he’d ever seen come from a distortion.

At the back of his mind he knew he should’ve been afraid. It was huge, steel and wood and moving to a screeching halt. The sound hurt his ears. He didn’t want it to ever stop.

“Bravo!” He yelled at nothing, unable to keep in his joy. Gliscore let out an angry yowl, as if challenging the train, but he shushed it. “That’s a train, Gliscore!”

It tilted its head and gave a hiss, but he could only laugh, feeling lighter than he had ever felt in all his memory. “A train! At the train station! This train station!”

How could he ever forget trains? There were tears welling in his eyes and he did not even move to wipe them off. His ace clambered onto his back with a worried croon, and he pet its head, which had settled over his shoulder. 

“Do not worry, passenger, I am very happy! Extremely so! Super bravo!”

He was already scrambling closer, wondering if there was a place to board it. That was what a train was for, after all, boarding. The thought made him give off another booming laugh. 

“Hello!” He called, uncaring of how loud his voice was, “is anyone there! May I board this wonderful train?” Gliscore let out another whine, clearly displeased with being so close to the thing, and when he offered it its pokeball, it recalled. Asking to board was right but also wrong. There was something you needed to do in order to do so, else you be a fare-dodger, but he didn’t really know what it was. Asking seemed polite enough, so he yelled again. “Please?” One of the windows slid down and a– a child? They look like a child, but they also look like a skeleton. Was it a pokemon playing a trick? A zoroark? 

Before he could do more than flinch in surprise, they were already talking, “Hey mister!”

“Hello!” He greeted back on instinct, and the other giggled, before scuttling away from the window. He watched through the window as they made their way to the end of the caboose they were in, following a foot behind on the outside. “Nice to meet’cha,” They said, the second they had climbed right off the train, hands reaching out. He raised one of his own, almost forgotten instincts propelling them. Nobody shook hands in Hisuia, besides some few at the Jubilife settlement. He remembers shaking hands with the professor there. That was a very different experience. The feeling of bone against his palms felt extremely real, and he took a deep breath as they shook his hand. Enthusiastically, might he add. It would’ve been cute from any other child.

“Were you try’na get onto the train, mister?” The child asked, looking up at him through red rimmed glasses. 

He ignored the fact that a skeleton -or pokemon pretending to be one or, whatever they were- had glasses on and answered the question. “That I very much am, young passenger. This… train,” and the word brought the corners of his lips up into an almost smile, “is very delightful! I feel as though I would deeply regret not getting on now.” “That’s cool,” The kid said, before tightening their hold on one of his hands and starting to drag him onboard, “well here we go! Entrance is right here. I’m CB by the way.” He allowed them to lead him, too caught up in the strangeness of it all to dig into the feeling of still not doing this quite right. He had done something, and was now being allowed on the train, that seemed logical enough.

"I'm a Warden. My name is Ingo! Usually, I'm directing people through the Highlands on Coronet Mountain." Things were going very fast, and he was being led through the middle aisle. The walls all had tables and seats attached, which felt both familiar and unfamiliar. 

He settled opposite CB, who’d plopped right back into their seat. The rest of the caboose was empty, and he tried not to let any nerves show; CB had been rather polite so far, if a bit forward, and if they truly were a child, he would need to be kind. “It’s nice to meet you, young CB.” They rolled their eyes with a whine, “No, don’t call me that– I’m a big kid! Big guy.The best scientist this side of the multiverse has ever seen!”

He blinked, “Very well, passenger CB, I will keep that in mind for future tracks.”

“You betcha.” CB grinned again, smiling wider now than before. He allowed himself to calm. If they were luring him into a trap, it would have sprung already. Whoever this little mischief maker was, they were probably harmless.

“Could I ask about this train, passenger CB?” He asked after a moment of staring out the window. It was still, and he wondered what it would look like when the train started moving. His heart beat faster, the idea filling him with excitement.

“Oh yeah! It's super cool,” They gestured widely with their hands, each bone flexing, some not even touching. He imagined it must have worked something like an object pokemon, some invisible force keeping it all together, “this is the Conductor’s train! He’s like, super awesome. Lets me ride allll the time.” “Super bravo!” He clapped, matching their energy. He could respect any youth who showed interest in trains, and could imagine himself clearly in their place. “I can see why you would wish to carry on this route many times! This train is absolutely splendid.”

The skeleton child tilted their head at him, a bit like a confused growlithe, “You ride a lot of trains, mister?”

“Ah, no. I think this is my first time.” It felt like a lie, but he couldn’t really verify that he had ever done so before. “At least, not in a very, very long time.” That felt more like Truth.

“Aw man, that sucks.” He almost moved to comfort the kid before they were already perking up, “You’ll love this then! Conductor’s train is like, way cooler than normal trains even.” “Is that so, passenger?” 

“Yeah! Yeah. Wait wait wait, here comes the Conductor now!” With that, CB sat up in their seat, waving with large sweeping movements. They were very tiny though, so Ingo sat up as well, raising up his hand in a similar, albeit more contained, motion. 

Ingo did not know what he was expecting. Another creature, like the skeleton child? A human person, with a worn kind face? His own reflection?

Whatever it was, it was not what he got. The other wore what looked to be a flowy dress and old Conductors uniform in one. Each movement flared it, and Ingo was reminded of– of his own coat, just his. The outfit was paired with a bone china white mask decorated with two bright yellow suns, only circles for eyes and a wide grinning mouth. 

The Conductor looked ethereal.

“Pleased to meet you, sir Conductor!” Ingo greeted, feeling half like he was in a dream, “This train of yours is a work of art!” CB giggled beside him, and he wondered if he did some sort of faux pas.

“Yes, that it is.” The Conductor murmured back, the wide smile of his face comforting paired with the almost flat delivery, before presenting his hand, palm up. “Now, tickets please?”

That was it! The thing Ingo was sure he was forgetting this entire time. A ticket, in order to prove he had a right to be on the train. He froze, unable to find the correct course of action, the line towards victory.

Sweat beaded on his neck, the idea of being kicked off now tantamount to torture. He hadn’t even felt the train move yet. Even through the empty eyeholes of the mask, he could tell the other was watching him. “Passenger, I will have to ask again, tickets please?” “I-I apologize sir Conductor, I do not have a ticket.” The words felt like teeth being pulled out. He sighed, and Ingo readied himself to be thrown out of the train. It was nice while it lasted. 

Instead of anything that made sense, the other pulled their hand back, rummaging around a pocket and pulling out a pristine gold ticket. It was held out, and after a moment of wide-eyed staring, Ingo took it. 

“Now,” The Conductor continued, before Ingo could even stutter out a response, “Tickets please?”

He handed it right back, and the opposite hand to the one that had handed him the ticket reached over. Sharp golden claws– Ingo couldn’t tell if they were gloves or if the other just had mechanical hands. It would not be the strangest thing on this train, he thought, seeing CB in the corner of his eye, staring off into the Coronet Highlands, probably bored with all this, seeing as he was a repeat passenger.

Instead of pulling out a hole punch, like Ingo expected, though he did not know why, the other just stuck a sharp claw through the ticket. “That is very efficient!” he couldn't help but say, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. “A body perfectly built for work on a train! How fascinating.”

The other’s movements stuttered, and the gears of his hand made a little click as the hand was relaxed and brought to his side. “I am the Conductor, afterall.” The other replied, an audible smile in their voice. “It only makes sense I am the perfect thing to conduct this very train.”

“Oh bravo to that, sir Conductor!” He barely stopped himself from clapping, the ticket clutched to his chest. “Thank you very much for allowing me the fare. Now, don’t let me keep you too long now.”

The Conductor let out another pleased hum before leaving the way he came, waving a clawed hand in farewell. CB mimicked the motion, shouting, “Bye Conductor!”

He settled heavily back in the seat, glad for the cushioning. That was surely an experience he wouldn’t forget! Or… one he hoped he would not forget. “What a kind gentlemen,” He said, shooting a small not-smile at CB.

“Yeah! He lets me hang out with him all the time, it’s awesome.” CB chattered away, rushing into a story about the other. It was pleasant. A few moments after the child had started his tale, the ground shifted underneath him.

Ingo held tight to the table in front of him, eyes keen on the way CB didn’t react at all, continuing on with his story. This was normal for a train, both his body and mind told him. The lurch had been sudden, but now over that, the movement had calmed to something very comforting.

He’d missed this, he realised with startling clarity. This was home, or at least part of it. 

A glance out the window showed not the Coronet Highlands, but a deep inky blackness. He stared, his heart suddenly thundering. That was– that was–

“Hey!” CB snapped his fingers in front of his face, “Don’t look that way, mister. You missed the end of my story. And like, most of the middle of it.”

“May I ask… what is out there?” he asked, voice thin. 

“Don’t think about it,” The other rolled their eyes, like this was obvious. He supposed he’d have to take their advice, there were no other tracks laid before him. “We’re almost at your stop anyway.”

“Already?” He asked, hoping the disappointment didn’t come through too clearly. Was he really looking out there for that long? Had he missed the entire route to an easily avoidable mishap? ‘This is why we say safety first’ that same voice chided. He missed them.

He wasn’t ready to return to the Highlands. He didn't know if he ever wanted to go back, not after this. It hurt. He had thought he’d grown to love his place there, but only now could he realise that it was not home. He’d loved those people but he knew he did not belong. Not like he did here, on this train.

It was still wrong– he couldn’t stay here, and it was just left of familiar still, but it was closer. He couldn't let go of that fact. 

“Don’t worry!” CB was quick to assure him, and he felt a moment of shame for forcing a child to comfort him, “The train’ll probably pass by again, if you wait for it.”

He sighed. Perhaps it would. Trains did not seem like things that would take new paths very often, but what did he know? The station had appeared in one night, it could be gone the next. The mere idea hurt something deep in his chest. He hoped it would not– that was his Ideal. 

“Thank you, passenger, I will keep that in mind.”

“We can hang out again when you do, okay?” CB’s voice quieted at that, a bit unsure.

“Of course, that would be delightful, passenger CB.” He replied, the distrust he felt at the start of the encounter already fading. The situation was still confusing, and the other was very clearly not something human, but did that matter? They were lonely, and had enjoyed talking, and had invited him on the train. He felt he could trust them.

As if waiting for those words, the train screeched to a halt.

A glance out the window showed… Not the Coronet Highlands. 

CB was already grabbing his hand and dragging him to stand.

“This is- this is not the station I had left at.” He stumbled to his feet, “I do not know where this is. I do not know if this is my stop.”

“Bzzt!” The other replied, an incorrect buzzer noise -what was that?, “yes it is!”

“Passenger,” he started, before looking out the window again. His eyes widened, he froze in place, not allowing the other to drag him elsewhere. 

The station they had stopped at, there was–

“Are you sure it's not your station? That guy looks like you! Or, not you, but like, a different guy who looks like you.” Ingo didn’t know why they made the clarification, he was too busy staring at the other, and being stared at in turn.

A wide smile, wider than the one on the Conductor's mask, wider than the one on the skeletal child beside him. 

“C’mon! The trains’ going to leave soon, cus nobody's boarding here.” The words snapped him out of his revere, and he jolted into motion. 

He went running down the aisle, CB tripping after him. Barely a moment's thought before he was leaping from the steps of the train, the hard concrete jarring as he slammed into it. Someone was yelling to visit soon.

None of that mattered as the man in white slammed into him. 

“INGO!” That was his voice, it had been his voice the entire time–  He held onto them like a lifeline, like they were a rope keeping him from tumbling off the top of the Highlands, like they were the railings stopping him from falling into the tracks.

“Ingo you’re– you’re–.” the man in his arms sobbed, and he held them closer. 

“I’m sorry for almost missing my stop, Emmet.”