Distortion Ghost!Ingo

- first sightings ~4 years after initial disappearance

- presence causes feelings of fear, unease, and paranoia

- goes in and out of lucidity

- can choose whether or not he is visible

- when lucid, usually following Emmet around

- lost + confused :(

Emmet knew his brother was not dead.

Such a scenario was downright impossible.

Yes, Ingo disappeared without a trace. Yes, he had been a missing person for over four years. Yes, all the leads had dried up, the search officially ending six months ago. And yes, the case had gone so cold it was nearing absolute zero.

But Ingo was not dead.

Emmet would know.

He just would.

His brother was out there, somewhere. And one day he would come home. Emmet just had to be patient, and keep things at work running smoothly until his return. Ingo wouldn’t be happy to see their beloved Station fallen into disrepair, after all!

The lone Subway Boss grimaced, squinting harshly at the blinding white screen of his laptop- the spreadsheet for the next two weeks sat open on the device, silently waiting for his professional input.

Emmet yawned, gloved hand hovering over his mouth. It was already 11pm, and he wasn’t even halfway done with prepping it. Scheduling sure took a lot longer now that he had to do it himself…

He sighed, feeling that familiar ache in his heart give a painful throb. Even paperwork, of all things, made him wish his brother was here. Four years later, and the pain was still there- Emmet felt it would be wrong if the hole in his heart ever truly healed. It felt like half of his very soul was missing… because, well, it was.

Emmet was doing ‘better,’ now, at least on the outside. He was back at work, manning the trains, battling trainers, supervising the station. He kept his friendly customer service smile plastered on his face at all times, greeting employees and passengers alike with his professional charm.

Just looking at him, no-one would even suspect he was running on maybe four hours of sleep over the last three days. Or that he couldn’t remember the last time he had an actual meal, and not a pile of artery-hardening junk food.

At least work was better than staying in his apartment all day, slowly driving himself insane with fruitless leads, ridiculous conspiracy theories, or worse- intense, terrible nightmares about the last time he ever saw his brother, his mind replaying the event over and over again.

The paperwork might have been boring, but it was blissfully distracting.

A sudden buzz of static shook Emmet from his troubled thoughts. The conductor blinked, looking down to his belt, where his walkie-talkie was affixed via a metal clip.

“B-Boss Emmet?” A shaky voice came through the mesh receiver. “Are you there? O-Over.”

Emmet suppressed a sigh. He unclipped the device from his belt, lifting the walkie to his face, pressing the input button on its side.

“Subway Boss Emmet speaking. Is something the matter, Agent? Over.”

Emmet heard another crackle of white noise before the voice continued. “Oh, uh, nothing really, I just…” the static hissed as the voice hesitated.

“I just wanted to check in, over.”

Emmet rubbed his temples, trying to dissuade the forming headache from ensnaring his entire skull. “Well, if nothing is wrong, Agent Furze, then I suggest you return to your duties. Please remember to only use the Master channel for important communications and alerts. Over.”

“Ah- Sorry Boss Emmet! So sorry,” the Agent stammered, audibly sheepish. “I-I’m almost done patrolling the Southern pavilion, like you said…”

Emmet waited for the end of the call sign, but none came. “Yes, Agent? Over.”

“U-um, it’s just... do I really have to search the tunnels? It’s so dark in there… Over.”

The young man, Depot Agent Furze, was a recent hire. He had only been working at the Station for a couple of months, and this was his first official night shift. He had quite the… nervous disposition, if Emmet had to say. Using less than professional words, one could even call the young Agent quite the scaredy-cat.

The nightly sweep of the subway tunnels was a routine task, a task all agents were expected to perform on the average late shift. Hoping to break in some of the Agent’s nerves, Emmet had sent him on his first trek of the Southern Tunnel- and surprise, surprise, it sounded as though the Agent was getting cold feet.

“You will be fine, Agent Furze. No trains run through the South Line at this hour. And you have your lantern and Pokémon with you, correct? Over.”

“Y-yes, but-“

“Then you will have nothing to worry about. I am Subway Boss Emmet. If you really do encounter an emergency, then you are free to use your walkie to inform me of the matter. Otherwise, I am verrry busy prepping the schedule for the next two weeks and would prefer to not be interrupted. Understood, Agent Furze? Over.”

“Yes, sir… Over.” Came the hesitant reply.

“Good. When you are done with the patrol, you should be free to end your shift-“ Emmet glanced at the clock. It was 12:30am, Furze’s shift would end in thirty minutes.

“-so make use of your time wisely, Agent. Over.”

The walkie spat out a brief note of continued static, but soon returned to silence. Assured the conversation had come to a close, Emmet returned to staring at his laptop screen.

Let’s see… The Subway Boss squinted again at the blinking cursor, hovering over the week’s timeslots. Would it be better to have Agent Cloud or Isadore work the morning shift on Tuesday? Emmet rubbed his chin in thought. It would depend on who else was available that day… Cameron was free, but she had already worked two morning shifts last week. Maybe Jackie? No, they had time off for most of next week anyways…

Emmet huffed in frustration. Trying to schedule Agents was like trying to untangle a mess of wires and cables, amassed into one enormous pile of tangled knots. Pulling on one end would just entangle another cord, and right when he’d managed to unravel one section, an even worse entanglement would rear its ugly head.

The Conductor rubbed his eyes, forcing himself to look away from the laptop screen for a moment. His co-Boss, Ingo, was better at this than Emmet ever was- whenever they would schedule together, Ingo would always know exactly who fit where, who best worked with who, what times worked the best… somehow, his brother was able to keep it all organized neatly in his mind, effortless and clutter-free.

To Emmet, all the names, dates, and hours would blend together in a blurry jumble of thoughts- he was amazed (and a little envious) of his twin’s ability to keep track of it all so easily. Without Ingo by his side, it was all just… a confusing, nonsensical mess.

But it hadn’t always been this way. Running the famous Main Station of Nimbasa City, the ‘City of Infinite Possibility’ as it was called, had been a shared dream of the brothers for as long as they could remember.

With endless hard work, and years of dedication, they had achieved it- all their blood, sweat, and tears had been worth it. They climbed the ranks and made their dream a reality- the first duo to share the title of Subway Boss, the twins became almost like minor celebrities of Nimbasa.

With their focus on quick and efficient travel, ease of communication between both workers and passengers, and most important of all, safety and security for all who enter, the two had restored Gear Station to the heart of the city it once was- and even pioneered the now famous Battle Subway, a landmark of Nimbasa. As a result, the brothers became beloved icons of their home city, symbols of teamwork and Nimbasan spirit.

Gear Station and the Battle Subway were their pride and joy, their lifeblood, their dream- and without Ingo, Emmet found their dream just felt… hollow.

“AAAAAAAAAAAUUUGH BOSS EMMET!!”

A piercing scream jolted Emmet from his thoughts. He inhaled sharply, startled at the loud sound.

“TH-THERE’S SOMETHING IN HERE WITH ME!”

Heart in his throat, Emmet scrambled to grab his shrieking walkie off his belt.

“Agent?! Agent Furze, are you alright?”

Heavy, panicked breaths were all Emmet could hear through the receiver for several tense seconds.

“Agent? Agent Furze, are you there? Agent! Please reply! Over.”

“Ah… S-sorry, Boss Emmet,” Furze gasped through the walkie, gulping down air as he collected himself. “I-I ran back out the tunnel.”

The agent took another few lungfuls of air before continuing. “B-Boss, when I was in there- I-I swear to god, something grabbed my shoulder! An-and when I turned around- I-I saw- there were two glowing eyes staring back at me!”

Emmet stood up out of his chair. “What? What do you mean ‘glowing eyes?’ Over.”

“I-I swear! Swear on my life,” Furze whimpered. “It-its face… it was horrible!” The young man sounded near tears.

“Alright, alright Agent Furze- focus on calming down. Control your breathing,” Emmet suggested. “It is alright, you just got spooked. You will be fine. Over.”

Emmet heard Furze take a couple more shaky breaths. “Yessir…” he paused for a moment before continuing. “Um, B- Boss Emmet?”

“Yes, Agent? Over.”

“I- Do I really have to go back in there?” Agent Furze whimpered, his voice cracking. “I-I’m really scared... O-Over.”

Emmet exhaled, rubbing his forehead. His gloved fingers massaged circles into his brow, as his headache continued its way up from his temples to the rest of his cranium.

He glared at his laptop screen, cursor blinking almost tauntingly on the empty document. The Subway Boss sighed inwardly. He was already behind schedule. What was another delay?

“Alright. Tell you what, Agent. How about I meet you by the terminal, and we can patrol the tunnel together. Over.”

“Oh, Boss Emmet! Thank you so so much,” the young man gushed over the walkie. “I really appreciate it, sir. Over.”

“It is alright, Agent. It is your first midnight tunnel sweep- it is understandable you are nervous. I am departing and will be there shortly. Over.”

It certainly wasn’t the longest they had gone without contact- communication with him had been… spotty for the last few years, to say the least.

She bit her lip, not wanting to stress him out with her fussing and virtual check-ins- Dragons, it was frustrating being left on read, but she tried her best not to hold it against him.

She just hoped he was back to at least eating and sleeping enough. She knew he hated her worrying over him, but she couldn’t just watch him… waste away.

Last they had spoken, he was back to being full time at the station- hell, working back-to-back shifts, even, determined to keep things running for when Ingo would… ‘return.’

Elesa swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling her chest ache.

Even now, she could barely stomach thinking on it- Ingo’s disappearance and… whatever fate had followed him. She banished the thoughts with a shake of her head. Losing Ingo had been one of the hardest things she ever had to go through.

And she had almost lost Emmet too. In the years following, she had watched Emmet nearly destroy himself trying to find his brother. Endless searches, conspiracy theories, no food, no water, no sleep- every atom of the remaining twin was focused on finding his brother.

Around this time two years ago, Emmet nearly ended up in the hospital- running on fumes had destroyed both his body and mind. Her heart clenched at the memory of finding him curled up on his hardwood floor, body shaking as he sobbed and screamed, his raw grief just tearing right through him. All she could do was just… hold him till his terror passed, trying her best to keep both herself and him together.

That event seemed to be somewhat of a wakeup call for Emmet, thankfully, and he started listening to Elesa more- resting adequately, cutting his hours back down, and reaching out to her when he thought he may be spiraling again.

On a bad day, it took so, so much time and patience to even begin to bring Emmet out of one- it was hard to even talk about his brother without sending Emmet into a tailspin, the man ever-insistent on Ingo returning one day. Elesa, more of a realist, had her own reservation towards Emmet’s theories. But she held her tongue in something she would call a mix between politeness and pity.

The last thing he needed was Elesa’s speculations to occupy his mind- the tabloids did enough of that already.

She glared at nothing- the mere thought of those disgusting gossip rags making her see red. The model despised them more than words could describe- the careless speculations of strangers had done so, so much damage: all the conspiracy theories and cruel whisperings wormed their way into Emmet’s mind, stoking the flames of his paranoia and obsession. It was such an awful thing to watch happen to someone.

Leaving out his fate, Elesa found another way to bring up the missing man; in a way that wouldn’t send Emmet into a panic attack. She began to make gentle comments about Ingo, softly tying his brother into Emmet’s self-care routines:

“Ingo would want you to be healthy.”

“Ingo would want you to take care of yourself, too.”

“When he comes back, you want to be at your best performance, right?”

Invoking Ingo seemed to do the trick: it at least kept Emmet semi-functional. It gave him something to focus on rather than his disappearance… she hoped it didn’t do more harm than good. She hated the thought of giving him false hope since… well.

Ingo had been as close a friend to her as Emmet was- and Elesa knew he would never just up and leave like that. It was horrible, truly a living nightmare, but after a few years… she just had to face the facts.

Elesa may never know why or how, but was never coming home. Ingo was dead.

It was horrible, but it was the only explanation that made sense at this point. And as with any death, especially one without even a morsel of closure, things were never the same- even on a good day Emmet would still push himself much too hard, stubborn as he was. He had a habit of drifting away from contacting her, lately. The last interaction they had was two weeks ago, when she asked him when he was planning to use some of his vacation days he’d saved up.

He’d left her on read, and despite her messaging gentle asks if he was doing alright, pictures of her Emolgas doing silly things, Pokémon league updates, or just stupid memes she thought he’d like, he had either been not replying or ignoring her messages again.

She sighed, heart heavy. Of course Emmet would never be able to ‘move on.’ She could never ask that from him. Hell, she hadn’t really moved on either. But Elesa had no choice. The world kept turning, despite the massive hole wrenched through both their hearts. She just learned to adapt to life without Ingo. It was horrible, she would never be the same, but… she couldn’t live her life on standby anymore. Not like Emmet could- though Elesa would hardly call what he was doing truly living.

Regardless, the mental toll these last few years had taken certainly gave her early grey hairs, to say the least.

Brrzzzzzt. Brrzzzzzt.

A sensation against her hip shook her from her thoughts- her phone was buzzing! Someone was calling her.

And speak of the Giratina! With surprise, Elesa was shocked to see the profile picture of Emmet popping up on her screen- smile radiant, eyes shining with mirth and a glimmer of amusement within his silver irises. (It was a picture from before Ingo went missing.)

Elesa narrowed her eyes at the time, nurturing instincts already on alert- it was barely 5am. Why was he up so early? She hoped he hadn’t picked up another overnight shift again. Those were way too brutal on his sleep schedule…

Without hesitating another moment, she tapped the button to accept the call.

“Hey Em! I was just thinking about you,” Elesa began, voice warm. “Are you doing all right? I didn’t expect to hear from you so early.”

“…”

Silence greeted her, turning her warm words frigid. Elesa frowned, perturbed. All she heard back was a sort of shuffle- cloth moving against floor. She had to strain to hear it, but there was a soft wheezing sound, like a stifled cry.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Something wasn’t right.

“Em, are you all right?”

This time, a soft, wet voice answered her.

“Elesa…”

Emmet’s voice sounded pained, his whimper emanating through her phone’s speaker so meekly it was almost inaudible. Her heart sunk, crashing through her diaphragm.

It sounded as if he had been crying hard, voice rough and hoarse; as if someone had scrubbed his vocal chords down with velcro.

Elesa stood stock still, suddenly very worried for her friend.

“Emmet, what’s going on? Did something happen?”

“I…” Emmet’s voice stalled, his sentence trailing off before it even began. Before Elesa could speak again, his voice broke out into a wheezy series of sobs.

“Emmet!” She cried out- Dragons, why was he crying?!

“Oh deerling, what’s wrong? What happened?!” She hoped to God someone hadn’t tried to pull the Zoroark ‘prank’ on him again. This time she didn’t think she could hold back the urge to kill whatever jackass thought that was funny…

He took a couple gasps before continuing, his sobs held in for now.

“I… I need to show you something,” he choked out, gravelly voice straining. “Can you come over? Now. Please.”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes, okay Em?” She tried to sound calm, holding back the tsunami of worried questions from exiting her mouth. “I’ll be there lighting fast.”

“Okay…” he sniffled in response, voice gritty like sandpaper.

Without even thinking, she was already halfway down the hall, high heels clicking loudly against the floor. Photo shoot be damned- her friend needed her.

“Miss Elesa!” Her manager’s voice cried out from behind her. “Miss Elesa, where are you going?! You’re on in 5 minutes!”

“Reschedule it, Francis!” She shouted over her shoulder. “Family emergency!”

Without another word, she burst through the building’s front doors and scrambled to her car- she turned the key, activating the engine as it purred to life with a thunderstorm’s rumble.

After probably breaking a couple speeding laws, Elesa arrived in front of Emmet’s apartment complex in record time.

Her wheels spun as she parked her car, exiting the vehicle as she held her keys in a white-knuckle grip. Before she knew it, she was already riding the elevator to Emmet’s floor in a frantic rush, trying to keep her mind from speculating on Emmet’s mental state.

In a few moments she was already at his door- she gently knocked on the soft white wood, anxiously shifting from foot to foot.

“Emmet?” She called, slightly out of breath. “Em, it’s me. I came as soon as I could.”

Soft shuffling came from behind the door- Elesa tapped her foot nervously as she awaited her friend. A few moments later the door slowly slid open, the wooden frame revealing the familiar silhouette of a tall man.

Before her was her friend Emmet: his grey hair was misshapen- filled with cowlicks, unruly and desperately needing a comb. He was still wearing his work clothes- though they were wrinkled and half-undone, blue tie loosened and dangling from his neck like a hangman’s noose. His bloodshot eyes had huge bags underneath them- had he not been sleeping again? And worst of all, his mouth was curved in a harsh, shell-shocked frown- the kind that made him look so, so much like Ingo. He looked not just exhausted, but utterly haunted.

“Oh, Emmet,” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat, hating to see him like this. “Have things gotten bad again?”

He didn’t really answer her. Instead of speaking, the Conductor swallowed harshly and grabbed her wrist, pulling the Gym Leader inside. Before she could ask any more questions about what was going on, Emmet had shut the door- and the millisecond it closed he had spun around and wrapped her in a huge bewear hug… and began to loudly sob into her shoulder.

Shocked, she delicately returned the hug, feeling a wet spot growing on her collarbone, dress already soaked through with his tears. Dragons, he was crying hard. Elesa’s own eyes began to well up with tears as she absorbed the pure misery of her friend. His broad-shouldered frame shook harshly, not the pillar of strength she remembered him as. The shaking was so violent, it reminded Elesa of a tree branch caught in a windstorm.

“Emmet…Oh, you poor thing,” she murmured, her heart breaking to see him so shaken up.

“Emmy, it’s okay. I’m here.” She gently squeezed him back, arms barely able to wrap around him as he shook and gasped between heavy sobs, unable to even verbalize whatever he was feeling.

She let him cry it out for a few more minutes, trying her best to rub soothing circles into his shoulder blades. He was absolutely beside himself with despair- her heart clenched; Elesa hadn’t seen him this bad since the breakdown…

After a few minutes, Emmet finally seemed to run out of tears. His gut-wrenching sobs slowly turned into feeble whimpers and soft cries as he clutched Elesa like she was the only thing keeping him standing.

“Shhhh, shhhh…” she continued to rub his back, chest aching to see him like this. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

“E-lesa,” he croaked, voice breaking as tried to speak.

“Elesa. I think I have gone crazy.” He pressed his forehead into her shoulder, as if bracing himself for her response.

“What? Em, you’re not crazy.” She pulled back to look him in the eye, forcing his bloodshot eyes to meet her steady gaze.

“I don’t know what happened, but I will never think you’re crazy. Never.“

“…Elesa. Last night, I-“

His face twisted as he held back another sob.

“Last night, I…” He tried again, Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled to get the words to leave his throat. “I… I saw him.”

Elesa stared, waiting for Emmet to give any more context. But none came- he just stared off into a distant point past her shoulder, the tear tracks along his cheeks accentuating his exhausted frown.

“…What? Saw who, Emmet?” She lightly pressed, trying to make any sense of his vagueness.

“Him,” Emmet stressed- he screwed his eyes shut, as if banishing whatever ‘him’ was from his mind’s eye. Elesa just stared, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I saw… I saw Ingo.”

Elesa’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth, but had no idea what to say next- had it been another Zoroark?! But before she could get a word in Emmet kept going, as if whatever had been stopping his speech had been unclogged, a deluge of word-vomit erupting from his mouth.

“I saw Ingo. I saw Ingo. First he was in the station. In the tunnel. B-but he was. All wrong.” Emmet shuddered- his whole body was trembling, shaking so hard Elesa was afraid he’d fall over.

“I-I didn’t want to believe it. I tried to ignore it. But he… followed me home. He followed me home, Elesa. I couldn’t move. He- he looked into my eyes and- his face- his eyes-“

He stared into Elesa’s eyes again, his own eyes brimming with unshed tears as his lip trembled.

“Elesa…. Ingo is haunting me,” he wailed, head falling back into her chest as he began sobbing again.

Wordlessly, Elesa rubbed the back of Emmet’s head as he collapsed into another puddle of tears, clutching onto her for dear life.

“Oh, Emmet,” A few tears of her own fell from her eyes, onto Emmet’s messy grey hair. She must make him take more time off of work- the stress was getting to him again.

“You just had a nightmare. Have you been sleeping-“

“No!” He cut her off with a sudden cry, body suddenly rigid as he almost threw her off of him.

“It was not a nightmare Elesa.” He looked back up, frantic gaze steady in its certainty.

“I wish it was,” Emmet whimpered, shaking his head as tears dripped down the sides of his nose.

“I need to show you something.” He muttered.

Without another word, Emmet broke free of their embrace and shakily stood, whirling around and heading back through the apartment- to the bathroom.

Elesa could only wait for him to return. Her mind whirled, unsure of how exactly to make sense of her friend’s erratic behavior. Should she call his Uncle? She didn’t want to upset Emmet, but he was beginning to scare her a little...

Before she could think on that any more, Emmet returned to the kitchen, a crumpled-up piece of white fabric in his grasp. He sat back on the floor- empty energy drink cans and bits of stray garbage scattering as he shuffled them away, clearing a spot.

He shoved the clothing into her arms with pure rejection, like it was some cursed object he was casting away from himself. It was soft- her hands began curiously unfurling the object, still wordless in her confusion. Upon closer inspection, Elesa could see was one of his work shirts.

“Emmet, what-“

“Look.” Emmet uttered, a terrible, dreadful note in his voice, harsh and cold. “Just. Just look at it, Elesa.”

Elesa blinked. She obeyed her friend, and fully unfurled the shirt.

Before her was, just as she thought, a plain white work shirt- it could use some ironing, it was quite wrinkled. It could also use a good wash, too- on the collar was a huge, oily black stain. Elesa squinted at it- what was that, paint? How had Emmet stained it so badly?

Elesa blinked as she realized something unsettling- the stain was in the shape of a handprint, fingerprints clutching onto the shirt’s collar.

“Emmet- what is this?” She looked back at him, eyes full of questions. He was silent, seemingly waiting for her reply.

“Did you call me just to show me a stain on your shirt?”

Emmet exhaled at her words, like some unseen weight had been lifted. “So you can see it too.”

“Emmet. Emmet, my dear.” She gently laid down the shirt on the floor, and grabbed both of his shaking hands.

“I see you’re upset, and something has really, really gotten to you. But please- can you explain again what is going on? I need more context- you’re starting to scare me a little.”

Emmet took a deep breath, eyes squinting shut at her words.

“You will think I am crazy.” He shot her a serious look, silver eyes intense.

“Emmet,” she squeezed his shaky hands, returning his gaze with a steely look of her own. “I promise I won’t. Just please tell me what happened. I don’t understand.”

“…I am Emmet. I,” He began again, swallowing as he forced the words out. “I saw things, at work. A… shadow. In the corner of my eye. Always following. Always chasing,” he began to tremble again, but Elesa gently caressed his hands. His shaking became less violent, ever so slightly.

“I clocked out. The shadow was still there, behind me. I pretended it wasn’t. I Tried to ignore the feeling of being watched. I made it home. I thought I was just seeing things. I needed to get more sleep,” he shrugged, shaking his head as he bit his lip

“I went to bed. Tried to sleep. But then… Ingo’s door opened. And… and he was there. The shadow,” Emmet croaked.

“As he got closer, I could not deny it any more. He was just… staring at me. He wouldn’t stop fucking staring.”

Tears dripped down his face as he continued. “I couldn’t move, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even scream. He… walked towards me. So verrrry slowly. And then- then I saw his face.”

He looked into her eyes. “It was Ingo, Elesa. He w-was… His face… it was twisted and- and crying. And bleeding. He kept saying something. Would not stop… calling to me. But I could not hear. And his eyes w-were glowing. Like headlights. His mouth, his-his neck… there was so much blood,” Emmet whimpered, voice barely audible. “It-it wouldn’t stop pouring out…”

“And then- then he grabbed my shoulder. It burned. It burned like frozen metal against my skin,” Emmet whimpered, one of his hands reaching up to rub his right shoulder.

“And he looked into my eyes. He looked straight through me. H-his face, Elesa. He looked so horrible. He looked… he looked dead. Like he had been dead for years.” his voice broke on the last word.

“I passed out. And when I woke up- that was there.” He accused the handprint, jerking his arm towards it in a shaking, accusatory point. “Right where he grabbed me.”

He stared into Elesa’s eyes with such intensity, as if he was trying to decipher something.

“Elesa… do you believe in ghosts?”

***

Emmet took a deep breath, watching as it turned to pale mist before his eyes. Beneath his white coat, he shivered. Despite the early morning chill, it was not because of the cold.

He was standing outside the main entrance of Gear Station, and for the first time in his life, Emmet was afraid of going into work. After recuperating a bit in his apartment (Elesa insisted in wrapping him in a blanket while he calmed down and at least making him some tea before he collected himself and departed) he had returned ahead of schedule, his trepidation be damned. His bag hung from his shoulder like there was a boulder inside- he tried not to think about its contents.

The horrors of last night replayed in his head. What would he find down there? …Would Ingo be waiting for him? Would he be lurking down some dark tunnel, his eyes glowing like will o’ wisps as he cried out wordlessly, blood spilling from his throat?

From beside him, Elesa gave his hand a soft squeeze. Right. He was at least not facing this living nightmare alone, this time.

No time left to delay. Emmet forced his legs into motion, and walked down the stairs he had dashed up in terror just last night.

Emmet wondered- now that he knew what he knew, would Gear Station feel different? Would the air be oppressive, would he feel unseen eyes watching him again?

But no- he arrived at the main terminal with not a thing out of sight. The platform was beginning to swell with people, just as it typically did at this hour. The early-morning rush of Nimbasan commuters was just beginning. Everything certainly looked normal- the usual hustling, bustling culture of Nimbasa would be overwhelming if he wasn’t as accustomed to it as he was now.

Even the memorial looked unremarkable- no clinging shadows among the letters, or haunting eyes watching him from Ingo’s portrait. But Emmet still gave it a wide berth as he passed by.

“Boss Emmet! You’re here early, I thought you didn’t have to come in until- OHMYGOD IS THAT ELESA?!”

Multiple heads turned towards them as Elesa gave an awkward wave to the agent that had blown their cover- the two of them had rushed to the station in such a hurry that she had no time to dress more incognito.

Emmet really did not need a crowd rushing them right now- so he marched through the people before they could react, making his way to the turnstile and scanning his access card. He practically dragged Elesa through the passageway- he gave her an quick apology for jostling her and informed the Depot Agent that Elesa was here to assist him with a matter that concerned the Station.

After a brief ride to the other side of the Station, they pair made their way to Emmet’s office. Elesa stood beside him, tapping her foot anxiously on the linoleum floor. They were waiting on a certain Friend of Elesa’s to arrive- after his conversation with her from the morning, the Gym Leader insisted on contacting someone she knew who could ‘help.’ He was in no mood to argue with her- he just hoped her ‘help’ wouldn’t end up being some sort of shrink.

Once they were inside the office, Emmet set down his bag on the desk with a soft thud. It might have been his imagination, but Emmet swore its leather strap felt colder to the touch, even through his gloves. As per the Friend of Elesa’s request, Emmet had shoved his stained work shirt in the bag and brought it with him, presumably evidence for whoever was visiting to examine.

The Subway Boss still was not exactly in the mood for chit-chat. Absentmindedly he stood next to his desk, sorting through some papers as he tried his hardest to not think about the ramifications of Ingo being a ghost. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to force away the memory of Ingo’s awful visage.

Emmet could not lie- a large part of him wished it was just some sort of hallucination caused by stress, or even some sort of grief-induced delusion. A mental break was more preferable than this. But the stain on his shirt was the smoking gun that killed that theory. And here they were, trying to find the bullet.

Ingo was dead.

Despite his best efforts, that awful thought rang through his head like a cannonball, tearing through his brain with explosive agony.

Ingo was dead. All this time, he was dead and you didn’t even know. You failed him.

Emmet grit his teeth, willing his hands to stop trembling. He was at work- he couldn’t have another crying fit now (because he knew if he fully accepted that thought to be true, Emmet didn’t think he could ever stop.)

He had been in denial -because that’s what his misplaced hope had been all along- for so long, now. Of all things, Emmet was stubborn, and all these years had made him quite excellent in compartmentalizing- and he knew that truly facing this nightmare might be the end of him. So would deny that horrible revelation as long as he could, until he ran out of track. Even if the end of the line was right in front of him. Because, hell, maybe it was some ghost-type pokemon’s ruse, or a really fucked up zoroark, or, or something….

Emmet was here to investigate. Not to speculate, or to come to terms. Just investigate.

His gloved hand hit plastic- the Conductor had run out of papers to rifle through. With nothing left to do, Emmet turned his attention back to the other person in the room.

In the corner of his eye, he watched Elesa adjust her uniform sleeve, still looking rather nervous. She had covered her sequin-covered dress shirt with a Depot Agent coat, and exchanged her high heels for a pair of worker boots that the staff were kind enough to lend her.

“They should be getting here pretty soon,” she murmured, breaking Emmet’s anxious train of thought.

“They said they’d gladly lend as much help as they could. They’ve delt with, um… unusual cases before, or so I’ve heard.”

“Ah.” Emmet still didn’t really know what to say- Unusual cases… that still did not rule out a quack like he dreaded.

He hated the thought of her thinking he was crazy… but he guessed it was already too late for that. She had already seen him at his lowest, mentally. Multiple times, now. This morning was not even in her top five, probably. At least Emmet hoped it wasn’t.

Of course he appreciated Elesa’s endless compassion more than words could describe. Of course was so thankful to have her as a friend. And of course she was the first person he’d go to when he was having a crisis- but he hated that look of pity that collected in the corners of her eyes. It pooled in her sea-blue eyes like unshed tears- it had been there for years now.

She never said it, but Emmet was good at reading people. He knew Elesa didn’t share the same hope about Ingo coming home that Emmet did. And now the Subway Boss had to accept the fact that she had been right all along. It was a good thing Emmet had so much practice in denial.

“To be honest, I don’t know them that well- we met when I was doing some photoshoots in Alola when all that crazy wormhole stuff happened,” she continued. “You remember, right? Two years back.”

“The… ultra beasts, was it?” He vaguely remembered Elesa sending him some truly wild stories about Alola- but he was too consumed in his own turmoil to really look into it beyond a passing glance. (It had sparked some truly wild theories about Ingo at the time, as many tabloids theorized.) At least it didn’t sound like her friend was a therapist.

“Yeah- Anabel and her partner specialize in these sorts of cases, all over the world,” Elesa continued. “Things that just… don’t make any sense. Luckily for us, she told me earlier this month they were staying in Unova for some business stuff. I’m glad she happened to send me a text, hah. She did a lot to help-“

“Boss Emmet! Someone is here for you.”

A voice emanated from Emmet’s trusty walkie- Ramses.

“Says their name- er, uh, codename is… Looker?” he continued. “And his partner, Anabel. Over.”

“Ah, just as expected. Please direct them to my office, Agent. Elesa and I are waiting inside, over.”

Emmet kept his voice carefully monotone, unassuming smile carefully etched onto his face. It took a lot to put himself back together from this morning, and he’d be damned if he let it crack now.

“Yessir! Sending them down to you now. Over.”

The line went silent and Elesa exchanged a glance with him.

“Told you they’d be here in a jig.”

Emmet just nodded, smile strained. Before their conversation could continue, a pair of footsteps emanated from down the hall- and a steady set of knocks hit the office door in quick succession.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

“Psst! Hello? Is the man known as Subway Boss Emmet inside? I believe my compatriot and I have been requested for a meeting.” A loud, male voice sounded from behind the door.

Without a moment to delay, Emmet marched to the door handle and swung it open with a steady smile.

“Hello!” Emmet greeted from inside the office. “I am Emmet. You have my thanks for getting here with such haste to the station.“

“Good Morning, Mr. Emmet! How are you today?”

Before him was a serious-looking, brown haired man in a tan trenchcoat. He had a rather intense expression on his face, but his right hand was held out in a rigid gesture for a handshake.

“Ah- I am… I am here, thanks for asking,” Emmet expertly avoided the question. “And you must be Looker, correct?”

“Indeed! That is my codename.” The man said heartily. “Much more pronounceable than my old one, I can tell you that much.”

“Hello, Mr. Emmet. My name is Anabel,” A much calmer voice said from behind the so-called ‘Looker.’

Emmet blinked. He had almost missed the woman behind Looker- she was nearly a head and a half shorter than him, almost unassuming behind his exuberant frame.

“Oh! Hello. I am Emmet. You must be Elesa’s friend.”

“Anabel, hey!” Elesa waved from behind him. “Thank you so much for coming.”

Anabel gave a small smile, adjusting the tie on her suit as she did so. “Of course, Miss Elesa. I must admit, I was hoping to catch up with you during our time here in Unova already. It seems fate wishes to rectify those plans even sooner,” she said, nodding solemnly.

“Yes- what a peculiar situation you’ve informed us of! I am looking forward to investigating this peculiar case already,” Looker said in a steady voice, hands on his hips. He turned back to Emmet.

“I have already taken a long look at your brother’s case file.” Looker shook his head with a heavy sorrow, brows knitted in a somber expression. “Though I did not work on it directly, I knew those in Interpol who were assigned the case of the missing Subway Boss.”

He placed a warm hand over Emmet’s gloved one. “And you have my deepest sympathies, Mr. Emmet. Truly. I have seen many cases go cold, but yours had to be one that I dearly hoped would not turn so sour. But! Elesa tells us you have a lead. A most unusual one, yes?”

“Ah.” Emmet swallowed, trying to not express some of the rather painful emotions Looker’s words had unearthed. “I am not sure exactly what she told you, but. Um. Yes. I… saw something rather unexplainable,” he began.

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Emmet, you needn’t recount it again.” Anabel’s soothing voice said from behind Looker’s shoulder. “Elesa gave me the rundown. And I promise we will do everything we can to help. Believe it or not, we’ve dealt with even stranger phenomena in this world.”

Emmet just nodded- at least they didn’t think he was losing it. “…Thank you both. I am glad to have investigators of your caliber here to aid along my track.”

“Of course, of course! I have brought many of my devices here to help in our research,” he patted his jacket pocket, where Emmet caught sight of something silvery poking out of the top. “I must say, I am already quite curious,” Looker continued, placing a thoughtful hand on his chin, his forehead wrinkling in a way that exaggerated his inquisitive expression. “We’ve dealt with rumors of spirits or paranormal activity, but I get the feeling there is something more to this one…”

Looker suddenly waved his hand, dispelling whatever he was thinking about. “But I think that’s quite enough time spent speculating, when there is intel to be discovered! Shall we begin the investigation process?” the enigmatic man raised a brow, eyes shining with investigative fervor. Emmet got the sense he must be quite dedicated to his work- maybe the unusual pair really would be able to help where others had failed.

“Certainly. Full steam ahead.” Emmet replied, walking past them and turning down the hallway. If intel was the type of cargo Looker was seeking to transport, Emmet knew the perfect place to start.

***

Emmet, Elesa, Looker and Anabel stood in the Gear Station employee lounge, where Emmet had just called a general meeting.

The four agents on staff- Ramses, Furze, Isadore, and Cloud sat in plastic chairs on the long table, expressions ranging from patient curiosity to quiet anxiety at the unexpected summons.

“I am Emmet. I am sure that you must all be wondering why I have gathered you all here, or who my guests are,” the Conductor began.

“To begin, I am here to address a rumor that has been affecting this station for months now,” Emmet grit his teeth behind his smile- best to just rip the bandaid off now. “I have heard rumors of… sightings. Sightings of some sort of spirit. If the rumors are to be believed, they are sightings of a ghostly version of my missing brother, Subway Boss Ingo.”

He paused, giving the collection of Depot Agents a glance. The group of them were certainly exchanging looks of their own, ranging from shock to concern to sadness.

Emmet held in a sigh. “…I realize that many of you may have kept these sightings to yourselves, in fear of upsetting me.” Emmet steadied his voice. “While I appreciate your concern, please never hide the truth from me. I am Emmet. I am here to… clear the air, I suppose.” Emmet’s throat was already beginning to ache. He hated giving long talks like this- not to mention how much he had overused it with all the crying and wailing from this morning.

“Something occurred last night. I was here in the Station and… well. I am forced to reevaluate my position on the existence of ghosts.” Emmet swallowed. He gestured towards Anabel and Looker.

“My acquaintances are here to do some investigating of their own.” He continued. “I expect you all to be completely truthful and leave nothing out as to any unusual events you may have encountered.” And with that, he left the podium, and let Looker take over.

“As Mr. Emmet said! My codename is Looker…”

Emmet let Anabel and Looker do their interrogations- it seemed each and every staff member had something unusual to recount. Whether it was just a flickering light coupled to a strange feeling of being watched, a cold, hoarse breath on the back of their neck, or even glowing eyes peering at them from the darkness. Emmet’s heart sunk. The sightings were numerous- when had communication between him and his team become so poor? He cursed himself inwardly- he had let his duties lapse in his denial. Ingo would be so ashamed of him.

Finally, the group had been questioned, and all were dismissed- all but Furze.

“Um.” Furze stuttered as he watched the other three agents go back to their posts. “Is there something you need from me, sir?”

Furze still looked rather exhausted, deep bags set under his round eyes. The poor boy must’ve not slept well- not that Emmet could blame him, based on last night.

“Depot Agent Furze, was it?” Anabel began. He nodded, waiting for her to go on.

“I requested Emmet keep you from returning to your post because you, out of all the agents, had the strongest sighting,” she continued, a thoughtful expression on her face. “You had a full, corporeal encounter. In the paranormal world, that is quite rare.”

“O-oh?” He blinked, eyes darting from her face to the floor.

“…I am not sure as to why, but I believe you will play an important role for later.” She nodded, seemingly confident in her cryptic assumption.

“Later…?” He mouthed, shooting Emmet a look. Emmet tried to offer a reassuring smile in response, but even he was caught off guard by Anabel’s words.

“Yep! Later!” Looker interrupted. “When we search the tunnels, of course! But that won’t be until later this evening. We need to do some field investigation first.”

“S-search the…?” Furze’s eyes widened. “Oh Boss Emmet, do I have to-“

Emmet held out a hand. “Relax, agent. This time there will be five, including you, down there. If Anabel says she needs you down there, then I need you down there. As a Depot Agent, your duty is to this station, correct?”

“Correct…”

“And I promise you, agent. You have my word that no harm will come to you.”

“You also have my word.” Anabel added.

“And mine!” Looker interjected.

Elesa blinked, looking a little left out. “Uh, mine too, kid.”

Furze blinked, overwhelmed. “Um. Alright then…”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Agent. How about you continue on with your shift today? I shall radio you when we are in need of your assistance.”

“…Yessir.” He mumbled, before leaving through the door the other agents left through.

Once he left, Looker clapped his hands loudly, breaking the tension.

“What a wealth of intel we gathered! I must say, my investigative juices are already flowing. The odd thing is- all these stories of creepy whispers and shadowed figures are only a few months old, correct?”

“You’d think that if he truly di- er- turned into a ghost- when he first went missing, then the sightings should’ve started right around then…” The brown-haired man held a thoughtful hand up to his chin. “They would have been strongest back then, too…”

Suddenly, Looker sprung to his feet, not waiting for a reply. “Well! No use speculating if we can find out for ourselves! Subway Boss Emmet, would you be so kind as to lead me back to the Office? It is time for us to discuss a game plan.”

Emmet nodded- he, for one, was glad to skip over the speculation on the demise of his brother.

“Of course. Right this way.”

With that, everyone followed suit. Emmet tried his best to keep the mix of horror, dread and grief from spilling out of him, shoulders heavy with their burdens. For now, his smile stayed, though it wore thin at the edges.

***

The Subway Boss thumbed the small, cylindrical device in his hand- an EVP recorder, he had been told. Allegedly, this device was supposed to provide an electrical signal that ghosts could use to speak with. Apparently. Because that was what he was doing now. Trying to contact his dead brother from beyond the veil.

He and Anabel were in the Main Office, doing a sweep of the North side of the station. The office was where Cloud had apparently felt a cold spot and saw what looked like eyes peering at them from behind a shelf. When they moved to investigate closer, the lights had faded away. It had only been a couple days ago.

Cloud’s report was one of many- the sightings of Ingo were not just limited to the Southern Tunnel, they were all over Gear Station. The four of them had split into pairs- Elesa with Looker to search one half of the station, and he and Anabel to search the other.

“How am I supposed to operate this device again?” Emmet asked.

“Simply speak into the speaker located at the top, and press the button on the side to record,” Anabel replied, adjusting the knob of some type of scanner in her hands. “It automatically will replay anything it records- it gives spirits a chance to harness the energy of the world around them and for us to be able to properly hear and interpret it. It will also make a warbling noise if it detects any supernatural energy.”

“Ah, I see.” Emmet nodded. He should probably get started, but despite how much he wanted to know more, he couldn’t will any words to leave his mouth. The unspoken words collected in his chest, heavy with their implications.

Emmet felt utterly, completely numb.

“Mr. Emmet? Are you feeling alright?”

At that, Emmet just had to laugh-a sickly guffaw escaped from his lips, before he silenced it with a hand clapped to his mouth.

“Sorry. That was verrry unprofessional. But I do not know how to answer that.”

“…Yes, I suppose it was a rather stupid question.” Anabel acquiesced.

Emmet sighed. “I just- I have spent the last six and a half years behaving as if- as if this was not ever a possibility,” he said, voice heavy. “I guess I was just pretending, all along. Denying.”

“To think he could have been… here. All this time,” he murmured. “I even had the psychics search, back then- they didn’t find anything. And I laughed them off! I am nothing but a damned fool. I-I still can’t accept it, even now.” Emmet put his head in his hands. “I cannot face this as a possibility. I refuse.”

“…Does that make me insane?” He risked a look towards Anabel.

“Hardly, Mr. Emmet.” Anabel said, voice soft. She crouched beside him, giving him an empathetic look. “I think you are plenty sane. And not a fool whatsoever.”

Anabel she leveled his steady gaze with a piercing one of her own. “It is human nature to hold onto hope despite the most impossible odds. For you to hold onto it even now, is a sign of your sheer resilience. I think you should preserve that instinct. It will serve you well during this investigation.”

Emmet swallowed, not sure what to say to her words. He settled with casting his eyes upon the floor instead.

"I will be here with you the whole time. If I sense even the smallest disturbance, I will notify you immediately. Shall we begin?”

Emmet grit his teeth. He could not delay it any longer.

“If we must.”

Emmet pressed the button on the side of the device, prepping the recording. He had seen enough ghost hunting shows to know what to say next.

“I am Emmet,” he began. “Is… is there someone here with me?”

The device made no noise, but Emmet played the recording anyways. It only repeated his question back at him, the rest filled with dead air.

Emmet’s smile dipped at the edges. He glanced at Anabel, who gave him an encouraging nod, eyes on her scanner.

“Nothing yet. But keep asking for Ingo.”

“Is… Is Ingo here with me?” He tried not to let his voice quiver. “Ingo… please just. Give me a sign. Anything.”

Emmet’s chest clenched. This was all too real. The mask he had carefully stitched together this morning was already beginning to unravel. God, he had been putting off declaring Ingo dead for years now- and here he was now, talking to thin air, looking for his brother’s fucking ghost.

He pressed the button again. More dead air. No reply.

Emmet gave Anabel another glance, eyebrow raised.

She pursed her lips. “The scanner still is not picking up anything unusual. Perhaps you could be more personal? Sometimes, those lost need an emotion to latch onto through the veil. Is there something specific you wish you could say to Ingo?”

Emmet held in a sigh- it was hard to pick just one thing he wanted to say. An entire deluge sat in his mind, walled off with his years of denial and repression.

“Okay. I can do that.” He rerouted.

“Ingo…” Emmet began. “I… the last few years have been hard. Verrrry hard.” He swallowed. “I have missed you so much. I never thought something like this would ever happen to us. And… I am sorry.” He felt his vision go blurry, eyes filling with tears.

“I am so verrrry sorry I never wanted to face the truth. I am Emmet. You know how much I despise liars. But I am a hypocrite. This entire time, I have been lying to myself. I wanted to believe more than anything that you were alive, and I ignored all the signs you were giving me,” Emmet couldn’t hold it back anymore- his voice tore with a sob. “When I saw you, last night, you were... You looked so scared. And seeing you, like that, scared me more than anything. To think you have been stuck like this, all this time, is...”

“Please forgive me, brother. I want, more than anything, to hear from you now. I-I want to hear your voice,” Emmet cried. “Please speak to me. Please.”

Emmet’s hand trembled as he clutched the EVP, breaths coming in shallow heaves.

Despite his efforts, empty static was all that emanated from the device.

Tears continued in their tracks down his cheeks. Normally, he would be embarrassed to be crying in front of a stranger, but right now he was too exhausted to care. Anabel regarded him with a somber, empathetic look.

“I think that is enough for now. Thank you, Emmet. You did well. For whatever reason, the presence I sense is refusing to make itself known.”

She furrowed her brow, pressing some buttons on her scanner again, giving Emmet some precious time to recollect himself. He scrubbed a hand down his face, forcing his grief back into the hollows of his heart. He forced his mouth to cooperate- twisting into a thin, small smile, but a smile nonetheless. He could finish his breakdown later.

“Mr. Emmet, I must inquire: you mentioned earlier- you had a team of psychics whom searched? And they found nothing of note back then?” she added, softly digging for more information. She was a detective, after all.

Emmet sighed. “Yes. Ingo’s partner is a Chandelure, even- and she never sensed his ‘soul’ or ‘energy’ or whatever ghost types are supposed to sense, according to that old legend. She always clung to me, after he disappeared- she still does. She was just as broken as I. So I just… took it as a sign. That he was still alive somewhere. Too far away for Chandelure to sense, but not… departed.” he croaked, lump in his throat.

“I guess I was wrong.”

“…Somehow, I am not quite so sure,” Anabel said from next to him. He risked a look- peeking at her from between his fingers. She had a thoughtful look on her face.

“Do you have Chandelure with you now?”

“I never go anywhere without her.” Emmet replied, patting his side where her Pokéball was kept, attached to his belt.

“Could you take her out?”

Emmet blinked- could Chandelure help with the search now? He didn’t imagine there was anything Anabel could ask her that a psychic hadn’t asked years ago. Nevertheless, he did as he was told- and quickly withdrew her Pokéball from his belt, deploying the ghost type with a quick flick of his wrist.

“Chaaaaa….” She let out a soft, somber chime as she materialized from the white light.

“Chandelure,” Emmet began. He wasn’t sure how much she had been able to follow from within her pokeball, but her drooping arms and dim flames told him enough.

“This is Anabel. She is a psychic. She wants to help… help with Ingo.” Emmet swallowed. “Please do what she says.”

Chandelure let out another coo as she swirled to greet Anabel, flames flickering like tinsel.

“Hello, Miss Chandelure. As your trainer explained, I am a psychic. I must ask you, do you sense any ghostly presences in this room?”

Emmet wasn’t sure if Anabel was the type of psychic able understand the speech of Pokémon, but Chandelure was a good communicator nonetheless. She levitated, flames flickering in concentration, before letting out a low chime as her arms drooped back down.

“Chaaaaaa…….” A descending chime.

She hadn’t sensed anything, just as she hadn’t over half a decade ago. Back then, it was proof to Emmet that Ingo was still alive, a piece of evidence he clung on to with fervid desperation. Now Emmet didn’t know what to think.

“How interesting,” Anabel leveled.

“…What does it mean? How can she still not sense anything when there are so many sightings?”

“I’m not quite sure yet. Thank you, Chandelure,” she said, nodding to the Pokémon. “Your help was much appreciated.”

Emmet took the cue, returning Chandelure after she let out a soft coo in reply.

“I do not understand,” Emmet. “This does not make sense. Verrrry odd.”

“You aren’t wrong, Mr. Emmet. It is quite odd, especially since I, myself, can sense something, even now,” She shut her eyes, taking a deep breath as she, apparently, sensed something. Frustratingly, she stayed ever-vague.

“But I think Chandelure’s lack of reaction confirms a key piece of information. It is a presence I sense, but it does not emanate from the spiritual plane, interestingly enough. That would explain why Chandelure- or any ghost-type Pokémon- would be unable to sense it. It originates from a different plane altogether. But which one could it be…” She placed a thoughtful hand on her chin.

Emmet blinked. “…What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means there is more to this haunting than meets the eye. Now, If I could just…” She pressed a few buttons and turned some dials on her scanner, brow furrowed in frustration.

“This spectrometer is attuned to the spiritual plane,” she explained, catching Emmet’s curious gaze. “But since we have ruled out that particular direction I want to widen our parameters a bit.”

She fiddled with another knob. “This energy I’m sensing… It's trying to appear small, unassuming. Like it wants to stay hidden. But I know it’s here!” She pressed another button, and in a start the device began to alarm loudly.

Emmet winced, covering his ears with his hands.

“Aha!” A confident smirk graced Anabel’s features, her triumphant expression it up in the blinking red and blue lights of the spectrometer. “There we are.”

The devices warbling lowered a few degrees, and Emmet felt comfortable enough to unseal his ears.

“What did you do?”

“I widened the device’s scanning frequency to extend to some other dimensions and their respective signatures. And it looks like we have quite a large signature indeed….”

“So… my brother is here?” Emmet looked around the room, but nothing seemed out of place- just desks and filing cabinets.

“Yes, I do believe so. But his signature is not originating from the spiritual plane at all, but another one altogether. And Gear Station is blanketed in extradimensional energy.”

Before Emmet could ask more, Anabel swung the device towards him and her eyebrows raised in surprise as the machine began to beep even louder.

“Why, Mr. Emmet. It’s not just the Station- you yourself are absolutely lighting up with particles!”

***

“Wow, no kidding! Mr. Emmet, you’re coated in extradimensional energy!”

The words came from Looker, who was currently shoving another type of warbling remote right into Emmet’s face. The four of them had met back up in the Boss’s office, as per Anabel’s recommendation.

“Is that dangerous?” Elesa called from behind him. Neither of their searches had proved fruitful in the ghost hunting sense- it seemed that no one could reach his brother. Like Anabel’s spectrometer, Looker’s had also come up blank. Elesa’s EVP session was just as unproductive as Emmet’s had been.

So now, much to his chagrin, Emmet and the strange energy Anabel sensed on him was now their biggest clue.

“No- relatively, it is a large signal but it is still just a trace amount of the particles themselves. And in this state, they cannot truly interact with the matter of this universe.” Anabel replied.

“It is unusual though- now that we’ve calibrated our devices to scan for them, they show up all over Gear Station. But the largest amount seem to be concentrated on you, Mr. Emmet.”

Emmet blinked, finally having enough and pushing the annoying device away from his face. “What does that mean?”

“I believe that due to your encounter with your brother last night, some of his energy has tethered itself to you- it would explain how he was able to follow you home, no longer being bound to the Station itself. This is good news, actually- it means we don’t have to worry about his soul becoming unbound since it is already tied to yours.”

Emmet furrowed his brows, head spinning- all these partly spiritual, partly sci-fi terms they were just throwing around were difficult for him to wrap his head around.

“I am Emmet. I did not realize his soul becoming unbound was a possibility.” He said in a small voice. Emmet did not even want to think upon what that could mean.

“A small one, but it was a possibility nonetheless,” Looker interjected, pocketing his device upon seeing Emmet’s unflinching stare of ‘if you scan that screaming thing in my face one more time I will bite you’ he was currently channeling.

“But what is of most importance is the specific nature of extradimensional energy we have on our hands here,” he placed a hand on his chin, deep in thought. “Hmmm. Extradimensional energy can come from many different places- ultra space, time-space distortions, or even the distortion world… we will need to perform a more thorough search with better tools.”

“How odd it is that our case evolved from a mere ghost hunt into the possibility of extradimensional forces being involved! Of all things, I did not expect the spectral energy output to be near zero on such a seemingly ghostly case.’

“And not to mention- as per your report, Mr. Emmet, soon after Ingo’s disappearance the entire subway was searched for supernatural activity, and none was found. Not a single trace.” Anabel added.

“I personally know the paranormal investigators that worked on this case- they’re quite thorough. And no significant levels were recorded, and as Looker stated, there is barely any to note now…”

“But. We all saw what we saw,” Emmet questioned. “Are you saying Ingo is not a ghost?”

Hell, Ingo had it all: glowing eyes, shadowy features, a propensity to appear and disappear at random. If he wasn’t a ghost, then what the hell was he?

“Correct. Though superficially similar, a haunting has specific criteria. Most notably, if he had passed on in some way when he first disappeared, then his supernatural presence would have been the strongest immediately after his death. the long period of inactivity points to a different answer- and the sudden increase in this energy only strengthens this hypothesis.”

“Truly, we won’t know for sure until take a closer look. But I have a theory.” The woman continued, turning to Emmet.

“I think your brother’s soul is caught between life and death- lost between dimensions. I have no answers for you as to how or why he initially disappeared or why he has suddenly returned as some sort of… apparition, but I can tell you with certainty he is not a ghost. At least not one in the traditional sense.”

“…Oh.”

Lost between dimensions. Emmet felt his heart squeeze up, chest tight and painful. Was that any better than being dead?

Anabel put a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of his spiral. She gave him a steady look, purple eyes boring into his.

“Mr. Emmet. I am not trying to get your hopes up- I cannot promise anything at this time. But, if my theory is correct, then there may be a way we can re-stabilize him to this dimension’s frequency.”

Despite her words, his hope did just that. Emmet felt the agonizing, lead-heavy agony that had been sunk into his chest the moment he stared into Ingo’s empty eyes ease up, just barely- a tiny, fluttering beat of hope wormed its way into his heart.

“And. What does that mean, exactly?” Emmet couldn’t keep his voice from breaking this time.