This place is seeeeerious business.

The past week had been taxing on everyone. Squirtle had not left her office. The door had stayed closed, and no one had seen it open. Mew had tried calling somewhat comforting words through the door, but she received no response. They had all stood in front of the door for a good while, looking at each other helplessly as their eyes asked the same question of what to do. Finally, Monty had broken away and gone to the bulletin board out front to take a job. Coran and Mew reluctantly took this as a cue, and work resumed.

Coran knocked at the door, calling out a weak ‘good morning’ like he had for the past four days. He fetched two or three berries from the break room, then came back to the office door and leaned his back against it. He held his stance for a moment before slumping to a sitting position on the ground.

“…Squirtle, I don’t know how long we’re going to be able to keep this up,” he said, his head sinking to his knees as he chewed on a berry. The berry chunk went down his throat slow and laboriously. “We need someone like you around to keep morale up. I… I know that what happened isn’t easy to deal with. I’m dealing with it, too. But… I just think… I don’t know if sitting in your room is going to solve anything, I guess? I’ve had time to think this all over, and… i-it sounds bad, but missions are a good way to sort of distance myself from the problem and just look at it from a different perspective, y'know? Maybe… if you tried one-”

“I don’t think you should rush her, Coran,” a voice called softly from the front. Coran turned to see Mew approaching him. “This isn’t something that can be really taken lightly, and some deal with it harder than others. I know all three of you aren’t as used to this sort of thing as I am, and…” She looked sunken, averting eye contact with Coran.

“What do you mean?” Coran asked, looking up at her from the floor. “You’re used to… to death?”

Mew gave a slow nod. “When you’ve been alive as long as I have, you see a lot. And I have seen a lot.” She descended from the air, landing on her hind paws beside Coran and sinking down to a sitting position beside him. “There’s a burden on us. And it’s hard. But after a few millennia, you just… you start to go numb.”

“That’s kind of scary,” Coran mumbled as his shoulders sunk. Mew could only nod in agreement.

They sat in silence for a while. Coran took a few deep breaths, leaning his head back until it connected with the door with a soft thunk. “I’m gonna go check the mail,” he said finally, getting up.

“Hey, Coran,” Mew called as he walked past her to the front.

He turned his head, slowing his pace. “Yeah?”

“How are you taking all of this? I’ve done some talking with Monty, but…” She smiled softly. “I don’t really talk to you enough. I know that our first hellos were a little…” She frowned. “Strenuous.”

Coran grimaced a little. She was right. “I’m not going to hold that against you. I don’t know why you did it, but I’m trying to put it behind us. If I’m really special, and I’m really going to help save the world, then I think we’re going to be working together a lot. And… it’s good not to hate your co-workers, right?”

“That’s… that’s really comforting to hear,” Mew said, putting a paw to her forehead as she slumped down further. “I swear, this transforming thing gets to your head when you do it for too long.”

Sensing that she was trying to change the subject, Coran obliged. “What is it like? Transforming, I mean. I feel like it’d be pretty cool to be something completely different.”

“The novelty tends to wear off after the first four centuries,” Mew said, giving Coran a somewhat playful smile. “You’re still you, but… your mind gets rewired. Since you’re in a new body, you’re not desensitized to all the instincts that come with it. So if you’re not used to it and ready for it, you end up acting really stupid and feral.”

“Like you did with the Chandelure?”

“Yes,” Mew admitted. “Though that was because I stayed in that form too long. The same thing happens.”

“Really?” Coran’s ears pricked. “But don’t you get more used to a body the longer you stay in it?”

Mew nodded. “There’s a middle ground, to be sure, but being in a body too long tends to make you lose your sense of self. There were a few times in my early life where I legitimately forgot I was Mew.”

“…Whoa,” Coran breathed. “Scary.”

“Though Latios was there to snap me out of it, it was pretty scary,” Mew nodded. She was silent for a moment. “Though I should probably get back to work.”

Coran sighed and got to his feet. “Me too, I guess. Not really looking forward to it.”

“Who does?” Mew said with a small chuckle. “Oh, just remembered, there’s mail for you by the front.”

“Really? From who?”

“Go and see,” Mew said, flicking her tail as she floated out of the headquarters towards the bulletin board outside.

Coran followed after her, stopping at the mail basket right inside the door. Inside was a small neatly folded yellow envelope. He reached inside, picked it up, and ripped open the top.

Dear Coran,

It feels like it’s been absolute ages since you’ve been over last! I know that you are most definitely busy with your job – I hope Squirtle isn’t overworking you! I’ve heard some pretty nasty rumours of things going on in Nuzlocke. You’re all safe, yes? The world certainly seems to be swirling around the gutter nowadays, doesn’t it? Though I will say that I’ve seen it in states like this before, and we got out of it relatively unharmed! Though I must admit, my motives for writing this letter aren’t entirely selfless. There has been something bothering me as of late, and I need someone who is skilled at both talking and listening (you!) to aid me. If you’re having trouble, simply present it to Squirtle as a job. I will reward you for your troubles, it’s only fair! Along with the usual accompaniment of tea, of course!

Please come soon, Phari

The sand felt good under Coran’s feet. He’d been up on Mt. Maelstrom for the past few days, clearing off all of the missions that had to do with it at once, so having a warm, soft surface to walk on was a pleasant change to the stark, cold stone the summit provided.

Coran looked out over the beach as he walked across it, watching the beachgoers relax along the shoreline.

They know about the state the world’s in, right? Coran thought to himself. They have to understand that everything’s going down the drain, right? How can they be so happy?

Things still felt somewhat different from his usual visits. Despite there being Pokémon after Pokémon lying on the warm sand of the coast, the atmosphere felt moderately thick compared to earlier times.

He shook his head to clear himself of that. He was going to Phari’s to rid his mind of these thoughts, not keep them going. Continuing past the palm trees, he eventually got up to Dusky Cape, on which Phari’s villa was perched, looking over the bay.

The walk up to the cape felt a lot longer today than it usually did. The cut stone steps were smooth under his paws as always, the setting sun stung his eyes a little as always, and the windows of the villa filtered the sunlight into beams streaming eastward, as always. But the walk was a lot slower. Coran wasn’t entirely sure whether he liked that or not. A gentle wind blew past him as he stood at the doorstep. Coran had been here a few times in the past, and all of them had been pleasant. Phari was an excellent host. He’d grown to like tea in the past few months, what with Phari and Monty figuratively shoving tea leaves down his throat. He raised his fist and knocked on the door, before stepping back. “Coming!” a voice came from inside, followed swiftly by the door opening. A familiar Ampharos stood in the doorway, beaming down at Coran. “Ah, you came! Come in, come in. I was just dusting off some pictures.”

Coran gave a nod and slipped past Phari into the house as she shut the door. Looking around, a small frown crossed his face as he saw the state of the house. The box of checkers and chess was still out from his last visit, leaning up against the coffee table. The checkerboard itself was still there on the table, the game abandoned midway. Giving it a quick look, Coran chuckled to himself as memories of how horrible he was at chess came flooding back to him. A guitar leaned up against the chair that Phari had sat in - she had played a few tunes that had been taught to her by Cappy. It was only simple picking since her flippers didn’t let her play chords, but Coran still found it impressive.

“You’ll have to excuse the mess,” Phari said, her voice still coming from near the door. “I’ve been somewhat preoccupied lately. As have you, isn’t that right? I’ve heard some awful things about Nuzlocke!”

Coran turned back to her and nodded, watching her swipe her paw across the top of a picture frame near the door. “Yeah. A Pokémon went rogue in town, and…as we dealt with it, he…” The words died in Coran’s mouth. Even after that talk with Mew, he still had trouble saying it. Especially to someone like Phari. How could he communicate to her that they had basically murdered someone? What would she think of him after that? Would she be scared?

“He’s no longer with us, is he?” Phari said softly, causing Coran to jump as if he’d been statically shocked. “Like I mentioned before, Coran, I’ve lived through the apocalypse once before.”

Coran just stared at her for a good few moments, unable to shake off the impact she’d had on him. “Sorry, I just thought-”

Phari held up a paw and shook her head. “It’s alright, Coran. I understand you’re scared. We all are. But it’s admirable that you’re trying to stop it. That’s more than I did.”

Thinking about this for a moment, Coran took a seat next to the coffee table. “…I know it’s not what I came here to help you with, but would you mind telling me about that? Maybe after I help with what you wanted to talk about?”

Phari stood still, pondering something before she nodded. “Of course. The tea’s ready, but I was just making biscuits. Would you mind helping me wash the dishes, Coran?”

He got up from the chair and stretched. “Sure, I don’t see why not. Good to do something else while talking.”

“I could not agree more, Coran,” Phari said, walking past him to the kitchen.

As Coran followed, he was presented with the alluring smell of peanut butter cookies baking in the oven. He couldn’t help but relish a bit in the aroma, letting out a quiet mumble of satisfaction. “Mmm…is that peanut butter?”

“Good nose you’ve got there,” Phari said with a giggle. “I will admit I made these specifically for this occasion. I didn’t expect you to drop by so soon though! The post is so unreliable nowadays, I tell you…” Coran picked up a chair from the kitchen table and put it up near the sink, hopping on so that he could reach. Picking up a rag, he soaked it in warm water and began to rinse out a bowl. “So…what’s bothering you, Phari?”

Phari paused from putting ingredients back into the cupboards. She took a deep breath. “When you came in, I was dusting off those picture frames by the door.”

“There’s a lot of them,” Coran noted. “Those are of you and Cappy, right?”

Phari nodded. Coran felt a small pit in his stomach as he began to catch on to a possible route that this conversation might be taking.

“I love him so much, Coran,” Phari continued, resuming her storage of the biscuit ingredients. “I miss him every day. Each night I close my eyes, and I see him staring at me with…with that dopey grin on our wedding day. He looked at me like I was the most valuable treasure he’d ever laid eyes on.”

“What happened?” Coran asked, looking up at her from the bowl he had begun to scrub.

She shook her head. “Nothing bad, for the longest time.” Phari paused. “Well, that isn’t… entirely true. We did find out that I was unable to have kids, but you knew about that. He didn’t let it get to me. And so we kept on living. And then…then he…”

Phari stopped, her paw shaking as she carefully eased a cabinet door closed.

“He started to go sailing,” she finally let out. “And he loved it. He’d be gone for a week at a time, but he’d always come back with that same dopey grin I’d come to love. And he’d come with so many tales and stories of things he’d done in the wonderful lands he’d sailed to. He always offered to take me with him, but…” She let out a quiet laugh. “The open sea is a scary thing, isn’t it?”

Coran stopped and thought about it. “I wouldn’t know,” he said after some deliberation. “I’ve never really been out at sea before. Have you?”

Phari shook her head. “No, but the thought of it shakes me up quite a bit. Just imagining miles after miles of water in every single direction, with who-knows-what lurking in the freezing depths below you… If your boat sinks, you’re more or less… You’re more or less done for, aren’t you?”

Her voice faltered, and she leaned against the kitchen counter as her eyes lowered. “…You’re done for.”

Coran stared at her for a moment, the pit in his stomach from earlier flying up into his throat. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? “Phari…”

“He’s been gone for ten years, Coran.” Her voice trembled slightly. “I’ve been wrestling with the truth for such a long time. Ten years, I’ve been running possibilities through my head, and…none of them are pleasant. None of them.”

Coran’s first instinct was to tell her not to lose hope. That Cappy was still out there, that he was still alive. That he could feel it. But the more he thought about it, the crueller that option became. She was already hoping. She had done it for ten years. Coran could only imagine how long ten years could feel when you’re waiting for someone to come back. Telling her that Cappy would come back would be beyond despicable. But what else could he say?

“It’s alright, Coran.” Phari said, placing a flipper on his shoulder. “ I know already. I… I’ve known for nine years. I didn’t want to face it, but…I don’t know if I really have much of a choice anymore. It’s just hurting me more than helping me at this point, I just…I need to come to terms with it. I need to face it.”

“Phari…”

“I…I apologize, Coran,” she continued, wiping her eyes as she looked up at him. “I shouldn’t be in this sort of state when I’m hosting a friend.”

“No, I-” Coran cut himself off. “This… I can’t say I understand what you’re going through. Not entirely. But I think that what you and Cappy did have was something extraordinary. And if you’re going to be remembering anything, you should remember that.”

Phari held his gaze but didn’t say a word. He continued.

“I think I told you, but I’m not really from here. I haven’t seen my family in months, and I don’t even know if they know I’m gone. And…” And what? Coran thought to himself. You’ve barely thought about them. “I think the fact that you’re feeling so awful about this says so much about what you did have. The fact that you’ve fallen so far means that you had to have been on the top of the world. The fact that you’ve been thinking about him for ten years says that you love him, that you value him, that you were important to each other’s lives. I think…it would have been worse, if…if you didn’t miss him. If you just kept going, kept living your life for months on end, without…without giving them a single thought. With just distracting yourself with other things, letting them fade away because you simply don’t care enough. You don’t…”

You’re not talking about Phari anymore.

Coran fell silent.

“Coran?” Phari had worked herself to a stand. “Are you alright?” He slowly shook his head. “I’m here for you, Phari. I want to help you.“ The atmosphere hung in the room, swaying softly from the ceiling. Back and forth, back and forth. Phari looked past Coran to the large window facing towards the fiery sea. The sound of the waves, though quiet, lapped gently against the shore beneath the cape. And beyond, the reflection of the setting sun shimmered dimly, skipping across the waves as a gentle breeze worked its way to the shore.

“I’ve known this for a while, Coran.” Phari began to walk past him, still staring out the window. “What Cappy and I had was truly wonderful. But the sooner that I come to terms with it being over…the sooner I can move on.” Her steps were slow, almost as if she were being guided. Bending down, she picked up the guitar that had been leaning up against the coffee table and walked towards the patio door to the left.

“I think I’m going to go sit outside for a moment,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “You’re free to join if you want, Coran.”

Coran slid off the chair and shuffled beside Phari as she stopped, looking outside. He hesitated for just an instant, then he hugged her. “I have to get going anyway, Phari,” Coran said. “But you’re a friend to me, Phari. If you ever need me again, please write. Or even if you just want me to visit.” He paused. “Alright?”

Phari froze up for a moment but squeezed Coran back. “I will.”

Eventually, she separated and floated out onto the patio. The door hung open, a warm wind wafting into the house, along with the unsteady yet gentle notes of a picking guitar.

A deep sigh escaped Squirtle’s lips as she looked out over the ocean. She’d spent a lot of time sleeping. Probably more than was healthy. She’d spent more time looking inwards at herself than she had since she had first left home. And this time she didn’t really have much more to show for it than worried employees and wasted time.

She closed her eyes for a moment before focusing them back on the rocky cliffs and the orange coast beyond. If she imagined hard enough she could visualize bubbles being blown across the horizon, the translucent film sparkling in the setting sun like she’d heard about so many times before. Krabby always used to come out and blow bubbles, her mom had told her. It was one of her fondest memories of the western continent, she’d said.

“…Squirtle?”

Startled, Squirtle stood up from her perch on the rock to see Coran approaching her like she were a feral. He didn’t really look the best of sorts, either.

“Hey, Coran,” she said, giving him a small smile. “How’ve you been holding up the past week?”

“Uh…things have been kind of tough, but we’re managing,” Coran said. He was looking at her from the side, as if examining her. She couldn’t really blame him, though. She was pretty sure nobody saw her come out here to Sunset Beach, and she’d basically been a cryptid lately.

“How was your ‘mission’?” she continued.

“…Kind of taxing, actually,” Coran mumbled. “Phari’s been having personal problems, and… They kind of got me thinking about myself.”

Squirtle motioned for him to come closer. “What do you mean?”

Coran, inching closer, sat down on the sand below the rock Squirtle lied on. “It’s not important. Just had me thinking about my past. Or lack of it, I guess.”

“The human stuff?”

He sighed. “I know you don’t really like talking about that.”

This put Squirtle off. She supposed it did kind of weird her out a bit - it wasn’t exactly a common occurrence, having a human turn into a Pokémon, and sometimes the ‘Coran is crazy’ thought bubbled up into her consciousness. But she pushed it out. He’d been working for her for months, and he’d shown that he was a hard worker, and was dedicated to proving himself to Squirtle. And honestly, she considered him a friend. That wasn’t wrong, right? And she wanted friends to feel safe talking to her.

“What’s wrong?”

“Isn’t there more important things we should be talking about?” Coran asked. “Like, the cause of you being in your room all week?”

Squirtle flinched. “I was…I was thinking.”

“About the whole ‘save the world’ thing?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m just seventeen. I’m not even that strong. My only reason for hiring you in the first place was because I can’t fight at all. I’m not that smart, I’m not fast, or cunning. Literally the only thing I am good at is managing a business and given my track record of previous partners I’m not even sure I do that right.”

Coran looked up at her, his mouth hanging open as if he were to say something, but nothing came out. “I mean I was basically comatose the entire week,” she said with a sigh. “I just ate and slept and thought. It…” She let out a little chuckle. “It probably wasn’t good for my health. But…but the more I thought about it, the more I just thought about my family. And…” She laughed again. “I just kind of find it all fitting, I guess?”

“…Your family?” Coran echoed.

“I guess I haven’t really told you about them, have I?” Squirtle said, looking down at Coran. “I grew up in Coastline, on the far west of the Eastern Continent - that’s the one we’re on. Adopted by my mom, Judy, and my dad, Barry. Blastoise and Feraligatr, respectively. I was the youngest.” She looked back over the ocean. “Youngest of three, for the first five years of my life. In a family of Water-Types. As an Eevee. I felt kind of…too normal, for lack of a better word. I saw my siblings making blades out of water, freezing stuff, taking huge bites. Leonard was training to be a battler, and you should have seen the bites he took out of the punching bags Dad kept getting him. And here I was, scratching and tackling my little heart out.”

Squirtle frowned as she recalled. “I never thought I’d be anything, watching Leonard and Trish grow up. They could do things with water, and I was just…I was just normal. So one day, when I heard how unstable Eevees apparently were, I got super excited. They can turn into nine separate evolutions! Nine!” She smiled wistfully. “So I went out one day, looking for a Water Stone. I packed up all my things, and I set out. I was gone for three days, just looking for my ticket to be good, be tough. Eventually I ran out of food, and had to come home with my tail between my legs. And man, was I in trouble.”

Realizing about halfway through the story that she was more talking about herself than her family, she laughed again. “Mom grounded me for three weeks. And then she told me that… I guess, that I shouldn’t take the easy way out of improving myself, just by evolving? I don’t think she really knows how ‘easy’ it was, honestly. It wasn’t a cakewalk looking for the Water Stone! I wanted to be strong. And I went out, all on my own, because I wanted that so bad. I didn’t care how dangerous it was, or what’d happen, but I wanted something really bad, and I wasn’t going to let something like common sense stop me then.”

“I think I’ve been thinking too hard, if I’m gonna be honest with myself,” she finished. “I might not think I’m the one for the job, but I want this world to exist tomorrow more than I wanted to evolve back then. So I’m going to stay determined, and I’m going to try.”

Squirtle turned to face him. “I still don’t think I’m very strong. I’m still not sure if I’m going to be able to help at all. But I’m going to try. I’m going to try for you, for Monty, for Mew, and my family.”

Coran didn’t respond at first, looking down at his lap. Finally, he gave a quiet nod. “Yeah.”

Her face fell, her emotion quickly turning to concern. “Things will be okay,” she said. “We’ll all be okay.”

“Yeah.”

As the guest entered, shielding themselves from the light rain, Squirtle managed to focus long enough to get a good look. She was small, maybe a little smaller than Squirtle herself - though she was floating. That was notable. Her short pink fur was matted and wet - something that told her that she’d been out in the rain for a while. Her blue eyes were etched with an expression of stress - something Squirtle knew pretty well, herself. This was further highlighted by her long tail flitting and flicking behind her somewhat like a whip. It was a nervous twitch a lot of tailed Pokémon exhibited.

She settled down on a cushion set up next to the living room table, and raked a paw across the top of her head. “Thanks. It’s getting pretty nasty out there.”

Monty gave Squirtle a pointed look.

“So...what are you here for?” Squirtle asked. She normally would have been more tactful, but her consciousness was already starting to swim. That exhausting mission she’d done with Monty combined with Coran’s… Let’s call it a temporary lapse in cognition… had left her completely drained.

“Oh! Right, sorry. I’ll introduce myself: I’m Mew.”

Squirtle heard a short hum come from Coran, who was still setting up the flood guards. But the name didn’t mean anything to her. Looking at Mew, though, it seemed like she was looking at her expectantly. “...Nice to meet you, Mew.”

Mew brought her head back, as if she wasn’t expecting this response. Then she nodded. “You’re… Squirtle, Monty, and Coran, right?”

This caused Coran to look back at her in curiosity from the door. Squirtle herself heard a tiny alarm sound off in her head. “...How did you know that?” Sure, she could see how someone would know her name. But...Coran’s? He hasn’t been here too long, and Monty even less so.

“Well…” Mew took a deep breath. “...truth is I already know you three. And… please don’t freak out about this, but,” she paused. “...I’m Chandelure.”

Within the next three or so seconds, Squirtle noted how loud the raindrops outside had become.

“...Come again?” Monty said, seeming more confused than anything.

“I’m Chandelure,” she restated. “I can shapeshift. I was the one who froze Coran when he lost his conscience.”

At this point, Coran had come back to the table, staring Mew in the eye. “...Prove it.”

“Coran!” Squirtle huffed. “Don’t be so crass!”

Chandelure sighed, rolling his eyes as much as a Chandelure could. “This good?”

“That’s fine, thank you,” Coran squeaked, his eyes resemblant of moons. Squirtle and Monty instantly got into defensive positions, ready to fight the sudden threat.

“What do you want?!” Squirtle barked, her hackles raised. “You’re not going to get it!”

Mew, now Mew again, looked at Squirtle with a tiredness that caught her off guard. “I’m not here to fight. I thought I’d gotten it through to you back in Faren Heights that I’m not the bad guy.”

“...Yeah, but you were creepy,” Coran murmured, turning away and crossing his arms.

Mew put a paw to her forehead and rubbed it a little. “...My mind changes a little when I shapeshift. Especially the longer I stay in a form. So...I got creepy with Chandelure. And I’m sorry.”

The longer Squirtle looked at Mew, the more she saw how absolutely exhausted she looked. Squirtle began to sympathise a little, and sat back down. “Alright, so what did you come here for?”

“Right, thanks,” she said, resting her head on her paws, with those rested on the table. “You guys know about the Drasil. That’s why you came to Faren Heights in the first place, right?”

“Well, it was more to figure out what was going on,” Squirtle said.

Monty gave her a confused look. “But judging by what you said to Marvin, the motive was to prove that you weren’t a helpless basic-”

”Monty. Not. Now.”

Mew cracked a small smile at that, but continued. “You guys aren’t the first to express...some sort of interest about what’s going on with the Drasil. But…” Her gaze drifted to Coran. “You do stand out the most.”

Coran stood up straight when he noticed Mew was staring at him. “...We...do?”

The pink cat nodded. “Yeah. I’ve...never seen someone come back from being corrupted before. I don’t know how you did it.”

“So this is about Coran, then?” Squirtle asked. Her mind went back to the circumstances under which she’d met Coran. He didn’t seem unusual. Just a little crazy. But...was he some sort of prodigy?

“Well, no, it’s about you two as well,” Mew said. “I mean, I’ve never seen you two get corrupted, thank Arceus, but this isn’t just something Coran and I can do.” She paused. “And that’s assuming he even wants to help in the first place.”

“Okay, okay, slow down, slow down,” Coran said, waving his paws. “What exactly are you asking us to do? Fix the Drasil or something?” “Partly fix the Drasil, partly ‘or something’,” Mew replied. “You see...us Legendaries are charged with protecting the way this world wor-”

“Wait, you’re a Legendary!” Coran said, slamming his paws on the table. “I knew it!”

Everyone stared at him, startled in various degrees.

Coran’s face grew hot. “I-I mean...what, you two...you didn’t know? Is...that not common knowledge?”

Monty slowly shook his head. “...I’m...not sure what you mean, Coran. What is a Legendary?”

“Well, as I was saying,” Mew resumed, giving Coran a sideways glance that had a smidgen of pity in it, “we’re tasked with making sure the world works the way it should. And the Drasil is one of the things we protect.”

“...But it’s wilting,” Squirtle finished. “So something must be wrong.” Mew nodded. “It’s been infected from the inside. Not only that...but there’s a form of erosion and mind control going around. The Voice.”

“That’s what I had, right?” Coran mumbled.

She once again nodded. “Actually...do you mind if I ask you a few questions about it? I’ve never been able to talk with someone who’s been under its control before.”

“I, uh,” Coran stuttered, clearly caught off guard. “Sure? I don’t know how much I’ll be able to tell you.”

“Okay, I’ll keep it quick, since there’s still something I need to ask you all,” Mew conceded. “...What was it like?”

“I…” Coran frowned. “I just...remember getting up and seeing Squirtle, unconscious on the ground…”

The snow was freezing. It bit at my skin beneath my fur.

crunch. crunch. crunch. crunch.

can’t move my feet

can’t move

It’s cold

am I dying?

is this the end?

...

this is the end, close your eyes and count to ten

...

one two three

...

three…

four…?

...seven...

...

...

...so cold

“...After that, I just...I remember hitting something. Over and over. And then I woke up.” Coran looked down at his paws. “...Sorry.”

“Coran, it’s okay,” Squirtle said, taking a few steps closer to him. “You weren’t yourself. You were…”

“Controlled,” Mew finished. “See...there’s something I’ve thought about for a while. Mind control isn’t an easy task. And it’s especially hard for one person to control so many minds at one time, even when they’re weakened by the lack of any will of their own.”

“But it’s still happening,” Monty pondered, tapping his chin. “So whatever is doing it must be an incredibly powerful being.”

“...A Legendary being?” Coran mumbled.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Mew said with a nod, her gaze growing even darker as it swept across the three Pokémon, connecting with each one of them. “I think a Legendary Pokémon has gone rogue.”

A sudden chill swept through the room. “But...you said that they...they uphold and protect the way the world is, right…?” Coran said, his voice beginning to shake a bit. “Doesn’t that mean...that they’d be really really powerful?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Mew affirmed. “...And that’s what we’re up against.”

Squirtle had been silent for a long time. Finally, she spoke, grabbing everyone’s attention. “So you want us to help you hunt down Legendary Pokémon, looking for the source of The Voice, so we can shut it down?”

“It might not fix the Drasil, but at least we won’t have mind-controlled Pokémon walking around.”

“So...you want us to join you?”

Mew thought about this a bit. “...I more want to join you. I know this is asking a lot, so...I’d be willing to help with earning this place money, too?”

Squirtle looked taken aback. “I...uh…”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“N-no!” she said suddenly, straightening up. “No, not at all! I...if you’ll just follow me, we can get everything set up!” Quick as a whip, Squirtle dashed into her office, followed by the harried sounds of rustling paper. Mew gave Coran and Monty quick glances, before following Squirtle.

Coran stared at the table. “...Well,” he whispered. “...Count me terrified.”

“It’s getting worse, you know,” Marvin lamented, looking up at the grey sky, still drizzling rain. “You heard about Faren Heights, didn’t you? It’s spreading. It will only be a matter of time until we’re affected by the wilting roots.”

Beautifly heaved a sigh. “Yes, Marvin, things do look bad. But looking at the dark side of things so often can’t be good for your health. You have to learn to be more optimistic.”

“What good is optimism if you’re lying to yourself?” Marvin retorted. “Honestly. I grew up learning about the guardian Legendaries, and how they were all actively working to protect us. Well, I don’t feel very protected right now. Do you feel protected?”

“I can’t say I do, but that doesn’t mean that we aren’t-”

Marvin turned towards the Beautifly, twisting his body on the bench to look at him. “This weather is fine for me. It’s gloomy, but not too gloomy. Overcast, but not depressing. But I can’t enjoy it because of the imminent threat of death looming over all our heads.” He paused. “Emphasis on ‘imminent’. There’s always a threat of death, and it’s always looming over our heads, we’re just better at forgetting about that when we can distract ourselves with things that don’t involve becoming slaves in our own bodies as our inhibitions literally melt away into nothing.”

Beautifly was beginning to feel sick. “Marvin, I don’t think that-” his wings began to slow slightly, and he sank to the bench, hunching over. “...I don’t…”

Marvin watched the Beautifly carefully, getting up from the bench. “...Don’t tell me that you’re succumbing to this.”

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice growing raspy. “I’m...just...why the hell do you have to be so damn depressing all the time?!”

Marvin said nothing.

“You strike me as someone who would be happier dead! Would that make you happy!? Should I just kill you right h…h...hhhhhhhhhhh”

Marvin felt a flicker of panic in the back of his mind. “...It’s gotten to you, too. It’s here.” He took a breath. “Time to lock myself in my house and wait for my demise.”

With that he beat a hasty exit.

“Okay, so!” Squirtle came bounding out of the room, obviously excited. “All the contracts are signed, and Mew has passed all the tests-”

“Wait,” Monty said, frowning. “How could she have passed all the tests already? Sheeeee…” He trailed off when he saw Squirtle’s fearsome expression. “...haaas completed them all in record time?”

Mew gave him a curious look, but the moment was soon shattered.

“H-help!! He’s after me!!” a voice yelled. “He’s-”

A deafening screeching sound filled the room, and a blue figure collapsed at the front door with a wet splat. Coran got up and ran towards it, dragging them into the building.

“There’s...c-crazy butterfly…” she whispered, staring up at Coran. The Wynaut was shivering, with cuts and strange powders all around her body. “...c-conscience…”

Coran looked back at Mew with wide eyes. She returned the gaze with a grim nod.

“We’ve got to take him out,” she said.

Squirtle stepped forward. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Coran was first out the door, the rain beginning to settle onto his fur as he looked around. The air smelled acrid, and looked...somewhat yellow. Can air be a colour? Coran stiffened and held his breath. That was a stun spore. He...didn’t want to breathe that in.

Running forward, he heard the pitter-patter of footsteps behind him in the muddy ground as the yells and sounds of pitiful battle became louder.

“WHY DON’T YOU ALL JUST DIE!? IT’S WHAT YOU WANT!!” a voice bellowed as a Pansage was divebombed and driven into the mud by a Beautifly. A tearing sound sang over the rain drops as the leafy fur was ripped from the monkey’s head.

The butterfly was promptly tackled off the victim by a rather agitated Riolu, who followed up with a knee into the gut. The Beautifly almost instantly tried scratching at Coran’s face, but was unable to find purchase. So he tried something different.

Coran, meanwhile, was still slamming his fists into the bug Pokémon without any rhyme or reason to his movements. All that he knew was that he saw the bug attack someone and so it had to go down. But his movements were beginning to become more laboured as he went, and his arms began to ache. A call from behind him registered in the back of his head, a stinging sensation settling on his fists, and Coran began to panic.

“S-Squirtle!” he yelled. “I-I can’t move!” Even his jaw was having trouble opening and closing enough to vocalize even these words. He tried to crane his neck back to look, but he was unable to tear his gaze away from the Beautifly that now held the advantage. His wings began to flap underneath the helpless Riolu, a terrifyingly strong whirlwind whipping up around the two of them, buffetting his ears against his face. He couldn’t hold on.

Squirtle gritted her teeth as she watched Coran’s unmoving figure launch up into the sky from the attack. “Monty!” she called. “Get Coran! Make sure he’s not hurt!”

With that said, she began focusing on the Beautifly, and tensed her back legs. Like a spring she launched forward, jumping up and raking her front claws against the wings of her opponent, bolting past before he had the chance to retaliate. She landed, twisting the dirt beneath her front paws as she whirled around to keep the enemy in her sight.

“Mew!” she called. “If you’ve got any tricks up your sleeve, now would be a great time to use them!”

No response. She didn’t see Mew anywhere. Groaning in frustration, she watched the Beautifly warily as he lifted himself up off the ground. He was no longer making any sort of vocal sounds resembling words. He was becoming more bestial by the minute. They didn’t have much time.

“Monty, did you catch him?”

“He’s safe,” the response came.

“Good. Tie this guy up, we need to subdue him!”

A sudden crack resounded through the tense atmosphere as the Beautifly was struck from the sky by a large rock. Squirtle yelped from the sudden action and jumped back on instinct, her eyes darting around to try and find the source of the attack.

A Golem stood on the other side of the Beautifly, already ripping up another chunk of ground from the earth to use. Its gaze connected with Squirtle’s, and its mouth curled into a smirk before the large rock slammed into the Beautifly’s body, sending it sprawling through the dirt.

“Mew, is that…?” Squirtle breathed in disbelief.

The Golem only gave a slight nod before tucking its limbs into its rocky exterior. The Beautifly, noticing this, gave a quick flap of his wings to soar off the ground, releasing a blast of purple powder where it used to be. The dust was scattered through the air as the Golem barrelled through it in a rolling attack. The moment it did, however, its trajectory began to waver. In an instant the roll stopped, and Golem lay prone on the ground, coughing from the poisonous powder that had found its way into its lungs.

Monty was beginning to breathe heavily himself. He had been darting around the battlefield as quickly as he could, surveying for an opening to grapple. But the attacks kept coming, and he wasn’t able to approach until now. As the Beautifly’s expression twisted into one of sickening glee from Golem’s suffering, Monty was able to leap up into the air and lash out with his whips. He hung in the air for a moment, his amber eyes narrowing in focus as he locked onto his targets. With a snap that resounded through the damp air, two vines found purchase around the thorax of the butterfly, slamming him down into the muddy ground.

“He’s grappled!” Monty called, landing gracefully in the mud. “Now’s your chance!”

Squirtle’s vision was a little blurry - some of the purple dust had made its way to her as well, and she was starting to feel the effects. But she shook it off as best she could, and reared up. Letting out a yell, she charged towards the weakened Beautifly with all her might, slamming into him with her left shoulder. She felt its head smack into her side with a sickening thunk, and as the two of them rolled on the ground, she felt her opponent go limp.

She laid on the ground, her coat battered and dirtied with mud. Each breath she took demanded it almost be swallowed before she could take another as she lay gasping for breath. She rolled her head to survey the others. Monty was in alright shape, wiping off some of the mud from his torso. Golem was not doing as well. It wasn’t moving at all, and she couldn’t tell if it was breathing through the hard shell.

“Monty…” Squirtle wheezed, resting her head on the cold ground. “...Pecha…”

His head snapped to look at her for a moment, his eyes widening as if he were only just now recognizing the state that his teammates were in. He gave a sharp nod and rushed into her home, emerging not twenty seconds later. The last thing Squirtle recollected before her consciousness slipped was the scratchy sweetness of a berry making its way down her throat.

Coran groaned as he stretched his arms, finishing off the last bit of the cheri he was given. “...That sucked,” he grumbled, rubbing his shoulders. “I didn’t do a thing.”

Mew, back in her original form, raked a paw across the top of her head. “...We’ll have to deal with the body soon.”

Body? Coran blinked. That was some weird wording. He slowly got to his feet, arcing his back as he brought his arms above his head in a stretch. “What do you mean? He’s just knocked out. He’ll come to and stuff his face or something.”

“...Coran.” Mew’s face was stoic as she turned to face him. “...This wasn’t a normal battle.”

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes narrowing as his mind struggled to figure out what she meant. It was just a Beautifly that went crazy. What about it wasn’t normal? Shaking his head, Coran shook the excess moisture from his coat, and made his way over to Squirtle, who was roughly half-conscious in the mud.

“Hey,” he whispered, lifting up her ear. “We’re good. We won. Or you did. I didn’t do diddly-squat.”

Her eyes slowly flitted open, and she looked up at him with a small smile. “You’re useless.”

He shrugged. “And yet I’m still around. Want to stand up?”

“Urgh...yeah, should...do that…” she mumbled to herself, curling her legs beneath her in preparation to stand. But she didn’t go past that. A frown etched across her face, and she looked down in mild frustration. “Help.” Coran bent down and put a paw on either side of her, pulling her onto her feet. She began to walk towards the Beautifly’s motionless body, Coran walking alongside to give her something to lean against.

“...Still not moving,” she muttered with a frown, nudging him with her front paw. “Might need medical aid.”

“Nothing’s going to help him, Squirtle,” Mew said solemnly, gently floating down into her line of sight. “He’s gone.”

“...Gone?” Squirtle’s ears twitched with slight recognition, brushing against Coran’s head, but the rest of her face still communicated utter confusion. “...He’s right here.”

“His conscience is gone, Squirtle,” Mew said, drawing closer and putting a small paw on her shoulder. “There’s nothing left in him. He’s a shell.”

A sudden stab of horrific realization pierced Coran’s heart. It wasn’t a normal battle. He wasn’t getting better. As he looked down at the Beautifly with this new knowledge, he suddenly took a step back.

“He’s gone,” he echoed, his mind distant as he was sent reeling from what he’d helped do.

Squirtle hadn’t moved. “...I don’t…” She looked down. “I don’t...he’s…” She began to nudge him again with her paw. “Hey. Wake up. We need to get you to the hospital.”

The Beautifly didn’t move.

“Hey.” Squirtle’s ears slowly sunk behind her head as she began to roll the Beautifly around in the mud, trying to get him to stir. “Hey, come on. We’re trying to help you. Get up!”

The words reached Coran as if they were through a foot thick pane of glass. Monty had his eyes closed, his head turned away as his breath stuttered.

But Squirtle kept insisting. “Come on, I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart! You were a menace, we had to snap you out of it! Get up! Get up!!”

“He’s dead, Squirtle.”

All motion stopped. Even the rain seemed to vanish in this one moment. Her face drained, and she took a step back. “...I see. If…if you need me, I’ll be in my office.”

Then Squirtle turned around.

Then the rain stopped.

Then she locked the door to her office.

Then she sat down in her office.

Then she laid down in her office.

Then she wiped her face as best as her state would allow, and tried to calm her breathing enough to sleep.

Then she didn’t sleep.

Link to Chapter 11

“...Well, it wouldn’t be every time, simply when I want to add a little bit of flair to my personage,” he said, crossing his arms with a haughty huff.

The Eevee let out a frustrated sigh. "Look, either you let go of the title, or I don't hire you."

"Is it really that important?" Monty's face fell. "I suppose I can prove my status as an Exploring Rescue Team Pokémon Captain Extraordinaire within the confines of a mission, outside of introductions," he conceded.

Squirtle smiled. "Alright, that's done and done. Now...we should probably get you on your first mission today, then. I'll pick one out, and accompany you on it." She turned around. "Coran, I'm going to be supervising the new recruit. Can you run a few errands while I'm gone?"

She was greeted with a slight groaning sound from around the corner, and eventually the Riolu poked his head out, looking blearily at Squirtle. He'd gotten a pretty bad headache about two hours or so after returning to the office after Faren Heights, and judging from the way he looked, it hadn't worn off yet. "...Yeah, what are they?" he murmured, rubbing his eyes.

"...You're a mess," Squirtle said flatly. "Forget it, get some sleep."

She was expecting a grunt of approval followed by his face quickly disappearing back into his room to get some coveted shut-eye. So she was taken off guard when he protested.

"No," he mumbled, getting to his feet. "No no, I...uh...I gotta do something today. I gotta...make up for...y'know. Punching you in the face. Twice."

Squirtle winced a bit at the memory, but shook it off. "That wasn't your fault, Coran." "Nnn," he muttered, shaking his head. "I'm gonna do something today. Headache or no headache."

"Well...okay." She picked up a pencil and began to write on a slip of paper. "I'm mrrkn' rr lrst rrf thrngs-" she paused to spit out the pencil. "This is a list of things for you to buy at the Nuzlocke market. I'll leave you some Poké to get them. If you see something else we can use, it'd be good if you get that, too. The market changes often and I can't always be there." She paused, looking up as if to recall something. "Oh, yeah. Most of the stuff can be found at Banette's Bazaar. Shuppet's usually there, she can help you find what you need."

Coran stared at her blearily for a few moments, then nodded his head with a blank expression. "...Mm'kay."

Squirtle redirected her attention to Monty, getting up from her chair. "Alright, Monty, let's go pick out a mission for you." The two of them got up to head outside, leaving Coran to his own devices.

I have no idea what any of these things are, Coran noted sourly, looking at the note in his hand. That wasn't entirely true. He knew what apples were, and he had a basic understanding of what Orbs were, and what they did. Squirtle had bought a whole slew of them at that one shop before they'd left for Faren Heights. As far as he could remember they hadn't used any of them, though. But the rest of them...TMs? Reviver Seeds? Cheris? Pechas?

"Well," Coran supposed, "I guess that's what the Shuppet's for." He clutched the list in his paw, armed with the company bag to put his purchases in. He just had to find Banette's Bazaar, and use that as his one-stop shop. That was the one thing he had to do.

Unfortunately for him he was instantly distracted by a jewellery store right near the entrance of Nuzlocke. A snake-like Pokémon gave him a welcoming grin as Coran walked closer, eyeing the wares carefully. He currently had six thousand Poké at his disposal, which as far as he could tell was a lot.

"Hello, there, little Riolu," the dark green snake said with a silky voice, towering over the comparatively tiny Pokémon. "How may I help you today?"

"I'm just browsing," Coran answered, scanning the booth's shelves behind the snake. There were a lot of bracelets and necklaces, each embedded with strange jewels. "...What are those?"

"These are looplets and emeras," the Seviper informed him. "Very useful indeed for the wary adventurer..."

This piqued his interest. Squirtle did say that he should buy whatever could be useful to the group. "...Go on?"

"You wear these looplets somewhere on your body, like so." He raised his tail, showing a beautiful gleaming looplet fastened around it. "The emeras - these beautiful gems here - are attached to the slots - they fit right in. And depending on which ones you choose, you can gain all sorts of wonderful effects from them, such as increases in your strength, paralyzing your opponent, or automatically reviving an ally if they fall in battle."

Okay, this sounds really really good, Coran noted. "Okay, that sounds good...how much do they cost?"

"Ah, well, the emeras you find in your adventures. They wear off eventually, and while I can sell some to you for vanity's sake, they will not give you any effects. However, the looplets on the more premium side of the spectrum have many wonderful advantages. The one I am currently wearing sharply boosts your vitality, allowing me to take more hits should I be attacked."

Coran whistled. This was sounding better and better. "How much does that one cost?"

"Ah, this one is twelve thousand Poké."

He swore he heard the sound of shattering glass. "...That's twice the amount of what I have, and I still have to get groceries," Coran said, wincing.

"Ahh, I see, I see, you must spend responsibly!" The Seviper nodded in understanding. "I can offer you the plain model - a simple looplet. This will only run you twenty five hundred - less than half. That gives you thirty five hundred for the rest of your groceries."

Coran thought for a moment. "...Alright, that'll do. I'll take it."

The Seviper smiled and put a polished yet plain bracelet on the table. It only had three slots - Coran supposed that was where he was to put the emeras - but it looked really nice. He dug into his bag and took out the proper payment, setting it on the counter.

"Thank you for your business," the Seviper said cordially.

Coran nodded and fastened the looplet to his arm. "Thank you." He turned to leave, then stopped. "Oh, uh...do you think you could tell me where Banette's Bazaar is?"

"Ah, it's on this side of the street, seven stores down."

Coran nodded. "Thank you very much!" he said, giving the Seviper a friendly wave before walking off, feeling pretty darn good about himself.

Monty wasn't quite sure if he liked this mission yet. The rocky ground felt uncomfortable beneath his feet. It seemed to him as if he was out of place - like no one was supposed to be here.

A soft orange flicker danced on the moist walls of the mine entrance, shadows playing among the uneven surface. A soft musty breeze continually washed out of the arch into the fresh mountain air. A small box of unlit lanterns lay a few feet within the entrance - probably for Pokémon like them that wanted to venture inside without getting lost.

Monty looked at Squirtle with uncertainty painted across his face. "Er...do you know if we're allowed to be here?"

Squirtle shrugged. "That isn't my problem. If they ask us to do something, we waive any legal responsibility for our actions. That all goes to the commissioner."

This caused Monty to pause. "...Are you absolutely sure that's legal?"

"Nope, but it's worked so far," she replied, walking undaunted into the mine. "Come on, we don't have all day. I'd rather not head back to Nuzlocke in the dark."

Monty had been having trouble picking a first mission to tackle, so he had turned to Squirtle for some assistance on the matter. He could have sworn she simply took the first one she happened to look at - it could have been a death-defying ask for all she knew! But all this randomly picked mission turned out to be was a request to fetch a couple of lost pickaxes from within a mine.

"It's already been sucked dry far as we can imagine," the Rhydon that had posted the mission had informed them. "No bother lookin' for any gold in there. Though any that'cha find you can keep. Prob'ly means you're a better miner than any 'f us." He'd let out a wheezing chuckle at that. "You'll find 'em in the inner hub. Biiig room, gotta elevator t'wards the lower parts. Wouldn't recommend goin' down there though."

Now, as Monty clutched a lantern in his hand, he began to ask himself why the Rhydon hadn't gone inside and gotten the pickaxes himself. It didn't seem like too hard a task, so why was he getting him to do it?

This doesn't matter, he reminded himself. I am a Exploring Rescue Team Pokémon Captain Extraordinaire! No silly mine can frighten me!

With newly found resolve, Monty steeled himself and followed dutifully after Squirtle.

The air inside the mine was dank and musty, having an almost ancient smell to it. The scent was so thick that Monty could taste it. Though the reader should of course note that Monty is in fact a snake and therefore it would be much easier for him to taste the air than it would be for any other species. The light from his handheld lantern flickered and danced along, casting eerie shadows along the damp walls. A shiver coursed down Monty's spine, and he stole a look at Squirtle. It was obvious that the damp atmosphere of the mine was bothering her rather thick fur.

"Are you holding up alright, miss Squirtle?" Monty asked, turning to her to try and distract himself from the atmosphere of the tunnels.

Squirtle gave a nod. "Yeah, I'm fine. How about you?"

"Peachy," Monty replied. "Err...this mine. It's uninhabited, yes? We won't be fighting."

"Can't guarantee that," Squirtle said, focusing ahead of her.

Monty gulped. "...Right." He looked behind him for a moment, and frowned. These tunnels seemed like they'd be easy to lose oneself in, he noted. Digging into his bag, he took out a parchment of paper and some charcoal fashioned into a sort of writing implement. Monty began to jot down lines and curves based on his memory of the path they'd taken so far. The scratching caused Squirtle's ears to twitch, and she looked up at Monty with a questioning glance.

"...Just marking some things down," Monty said. "In case we get lost."

Squirtle sniffed a little, rolling her eyes. "We won't get lost."

"Can't guarantee that," Monty retorted with a little smile. It dissipated with a withering stare from Squirtle, however.

They continued on in silence for a while, with only ambience from the mine and the scrawling of the pen to accompany them. Eventually, however, another light began to accompany their voyage, at the other side of the tunnel.

"That must be the chamber the Rhydon mentioned," Monty murmured. "That's where the pickaxes are, yes?"

"That's what he said," Squirtle affirmed. "Why don't you go in there and get them?"

"E-eh?" Monty stared at her for a few moments, aghast. "Why me?"

Squirtle gave him a little smile. "Because you're the one that's on trial here."

"That is a fair point," Monty sighed, slowly creeping past the small wooden archway leading into the soaring room.

Coran was feeling more than a little proud of himself. He still had one thousand Poké to spend, which STILL sounded like a lot, and he'd gotten a whole slew of berries and stuff that shop vendors assured him were super useful for people in his kind of career. Plus they smelled really good and he kind of ate one or two or five and he could verify that they were delicious and he didn't regret any of his purchases.

Finally, he arrived at the familiar booth advertised as 'Banette's Bazaar', near the end of the street. But hey, that was fine! It'd be his final stop of the day, he'd head back home, and sleep until Squirtle and Monty came back, have dinner, then sleep again. This was going to be a good day.

"Hey, Shuppet!" Coran called, waving as he approached the booth.

Shuppet appeared at the front, blinking tiredly. Though her expression brightened as she recognized him. "Oh! Coran, hey. Where's Squirtle?"

Coran jerked his head over towards the direction of the business. "She's off training a new recruit. Do you know him? Monty?"

Shuppet looked up in thought, pursing her lips. "...I think so, yeah. The guy that hangs out with Marvin a lot?"

"Okay I don't know Marvin."

She shook her head. "Breloom. Not important. Anyways, what can I do you for?"

"I've got a list." Coran slapped the sheet of paper Squirtle had made down onto the counter. Shuppet narrowed her eyes and looked at it scrutinizingly. "...Yep, that's Squirtle's writing. Alright, gimme a sec..." A pencil floated over to the paper, and Shuppet began writing down some numbers.

"Hey, um, by the way..." Coran said. "...I've noticed that you go by 'Shuppet', but most Pokémon go by personal names. Why do you only go by your species name?"

Shuppet looked up at him. "That's...kind of a weird question."

Oh shoot. Coran's mind flew into a panic. That was a REALLY obvious question.

"It's just a personal choice, for me anyway," Shuppet said, looking back down at the paper. "My brother too. "No big dramatic reason or anything."

That was close.

"Anyways, your total comes to two thousand four hundred Poké. I'll start getting the items." As Shuppet turned around and retreated into the booth, Coran once again swore he heard the sound of shattering glass. She said two thousand four hundred. He was one thousand four hundred short. What was he going to do?!

"Uh...Shuppet?" Coran called. "I've...got a problem."

"What is it?" Shuppet called from the back of the store. "Don't worry about the weirder stuff on the list, Squirtle gets the same kinds of things every month. I know what they are."

"Uh...that's not it."

Shuppet came back with a bag floating beside her. She set it down on the counter. "We still don't have any orbs, so that's two hundred off your total."

"..." Coran gulped. "Any way I can get one thousand six hundred off?"

Shuppet raised an eyebrow. "By cutting this bag in half, yeah. Why?"

Licking his dry lips awkwardly, Coran reached into the bag Squirtle had lent him and laid out the money that he had.

"...You only have eight hundred Poké?"

"E-eight hundred?! I thought I had a thousand!" Coran tugged at his ears in horror.

"Why would Squirtle only give you eight hundred Poké for all this? That doesn't even come close."

Coran gulped. "Uh...she gave me six thousand."

The silence was deafening.

His footsteps had gotten exponentially louder since he'd made his way into this inner sanctum. It was dimly lit with lanterns lining the walls, with a few more near the center of the room. Monty brought his head up to look at the ceiling, his eyes tracing the soaring rock high above him. He was no expert, but it seemed sturdy enough. Perhaps he would be safe? There were a few other arches that led into other parts of the mine, but he decided not to busy himself with those. He was here for one purpose and one purpose only - finding those tools. Monty took a deep breath, and steeled himself. This was his first real mission as part of a real firm. He would succeed with both flair and style. Or as much flair and style as one can have when they're carrying a bunch of rusty mining tools.

Squirtle padded into the room after him, whistling softly. The sound echoed off the walls in an eerie sort of way, causing Monty to jump and turn around to face her. "What are you doing?" he whispered.

"...Whistling," Squirtle said, giving him a confused look. "Why, am I not allowed to?"

"Well..." Monty crossed his arms. "...I suppose it's alright, you just sort of...ruined the atmosphere."

Squirtle laughed a little. "Sorry," she replied, looking around the room as Monty took out his paper and began walking along the perimeter of the room, watching the walls carefully. Monty stuck his tongue out as he sketched the outline of the room, wanting to keep it as accurate as possible, in case he ever needed to come back here.

"Have you found the tools yet?"

This caused him to freeze in his tracks. Right. Tools. He was here for those. He stuffed his paper into the bag, and looked around the room, walking along the center. "...I don't see them," he responded with a frown, scouring the center of the room - he'd already looked at most of the edge already. "Erm, Squirtle?" he mumbled. "Don't you feel as if something is missing from this room?"

"Yeah, the tools," Squirtle agreed. "Rhydon said for sure that they'd be here."

"No," Monty mumbled, shaking his head. He looked around the chamber once again. The lights of the lanterns seemed to glint differently from the ones they had been holding. Perhaps this was because they were still, and not being moved by the motion of walking. He could see clear across the room towards Squirtle with nothing blocking his vision from the two or three other doorways to the other parts of the mine.

A swift realization smacked into Monty's head.

"I don't think things are quite right, Squirtle," Monty said, his heart sinking into his chest. "There's no elevator here."

"Why does that matter?" Squirtle asked. "We're looking for tools, not an elevator."

"Do you not remember what Rhydon said about where we'd find the tools? How he described the inner chamber? There was supposed to be an elevator here. Do you see one?"

Squirtle's walking slowed. "...No."

She wasn't afraid to admit it. That had completely slipped past her notice.

Of course she'd never admit it out loud, but she wasn't afraid to admit it to herself. Silently. In her head.

Okay, so now what? They were in the wrong room. But there hadn't been any branching paths that she'd noticed on the way down here, and Rhydon had told them it'd be a straight shot. Were they in the wrong mine....?

No, this was the one, Squirtle was sure of it. She wouldn't have made a mistake as simple as that. Her eyes went to the three doors that were in this room. Perhaps the inner chamber was past one of those. She began to walk towards one of them, her brow furrowed. She was halted, however, by Monty's voice.

"Where are you going?" he called.

"Deeper into the mine. The place Rhydon described must be through one of these."

"...I don't think so," Monty retorted, sounding rather unimpressed.

Squirtle turned around, giving him another glare. "Who's the experienced one here?" she said, stamping the ground for emphasis.

Monty took out his map, and stared at it for a few moments. "...That's the door we came in from."

Squirtle stiffened, swivelling on her paws to stare at the door. "...No it's not."

"Yes, it is," Monty said, walking towards her. "See?" He placed the map he'd made down on the ground in front of her. Squirtle looked down at it and squinted. It was hard to see in the light, but as she looked up and referenced bends of the wall to the map, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Monty was right.

"...You passed the test," she said suddenly.

Monty picked up the map and looked at her in surprise. "Test?"

"Yeah. I was testing your ability as a navigator. You passed."

Monty clapped his hands together in excitement, and put his map back in his bag. "Oh, wonderful!"

"Don't celebrate yet, though!" Squirtle said chidingly, looking up at him. "We still have to find those tools, or else the whole mission's moot."

"...Actually, I noticed something as I looked at the center of the room," Monty said, walking back towards it. He pointed at the ground.

There was some sort of disturbance in a square-ish area in the dirt floor. Most of the ground was more or less uniform, but it was quite bumpy and soft here in the middle of the room. "...Do you think that perhaps...this is the room we were looking for?"

The room began to rumble ever so slightly.

Monty started, looking up. "...I'm sure that the ceiling won't collapse...it looks sturdy!" Another rumble. But this time Squirtle could feel where it was coming from. And it wasn't the ceiling.

"...We should probably get out of this room," Squirtle said. "Like, right now."

Coran laid his head on the counter of the booth, groaning as he tugged at his ears again. This was the most humiliating day of his life.

He heard a soft thump beside him. "This is the best I can get you for what you have," Shuppet said. He could hear from the tone that she was smiling, but it was more one of pity than anything else.

"Ughh..." Coran groaned, and looked at the bag slung across his shoulder. All these baubles. He should have known they'd be way too expensive. He dug his paw into it and shuffled the contents around, soft metallic clangs coming from inside.

Suddenly something clicked.

"Hey..." Coran lifted his head up to look at Shuppet. "Maybe I could sell some of this stuff to you? Do you guys do that?"

"Well..." Shuppet looked away for a moment. "I really feel like Banette's the one who decides that, but...you don't really have the time to wait for him, do you?" Coran shook his head emphatically, folding his paws together. "Please please please, I will owe you so hard if you do this for me."

Shuppet closed her eyes for a few moments, then nodded. "Okay, fine. I'll see what I can do. What do you have?"

Coran took his bag and dumped it all on the counter, spreading it out so that Shuppet could see all of it. He looked up at her, expecting to see a face of amazement.

He wouldn't really describe it as amazement.

"You spent that much money...on this?"

At least it was some form of surprise, and that counted for something, right?

"...How bad is it?" Coran groaned, putting his paw to his face again.

Shuppet took a deep breath. "Let's put it this way. I know exactly who you bought these from." She paused a moment. "And also that you're a huge sucker."

"I-I'm not a sucker!" Coran protested.

Shuppet scanned the pile, shaking her head slowly. Then she lifted her gaze to his arm. "...What are you wearing?"

Coran's eyes snapped to the golden brace on his arm. Oh no. No, no, not this. This couldn't be useless. This was his first purchase! Like, ever! At least as far as his memory was concerned. This could NOT be a useless item!

"...U-uh...the Seviper called it a looplet?"

"You bought a looplet."

"Yes."

"How much did it cost?"

"...Two thousand five hundred?"

"Oh, Arceus," Shuppet sighed. "Coran, that thing is useless here. It's the plain model." "But he said that I could find emeras if I went exploring!" Coran protested, pointing at the slots. "He said that I could put them in this thing and they'd give me special effects! He wasn't lying, was he?"

"Well, no, he wasn't lying," Shuppet said carefully. "But emeras don't appear anymore. At least not here. If you wanted to get any use out of that thing other than as simple jewellery, you'd have to travel across the ocean to the continents waaaay west of here." Coran's head was starting to hurt from the amount of times he'd slammed it against the counter.

"And the rest of this stuff...it's mostly gimmicks. I don't think I can do anything for you, about this, Coran. I can't buy any of this stuff."

Bang bang bang bang

"...W-well, look on the bright side! At least Squirtle will never make you go shopping again!"

Bang

Coran had a headache again.

It was hard to read a map by lamplight. The candle inside flickered and danced as it always did, skewing the sketchy shapes on the paper and making the lines that detailed chambers, hallways, entries, and exits hard to distinguish.

It was even harder to read a map by lamplight when you're sprinting down a tunnel with the floor behind you crumbling into darkness.

"I-it should be a straight shot back up!" Monty called, following Squirtle through the darkness. It was obvious to him that she was running as quickly as her little legs could carry her, but if the cracks and sounds of disintegration behind them were any indication, the floor didn't seem to care whether Squirtle could run fast or not.

He knew what he had to do. He also knew that Squirtle would not be happy with it in the slightest.

He also also knew that Squirtle couldn't be happy if she was dead.

Monty extended his two vines towards the little fox Pokémon, swiftly wrapping them around her waist. Before she had a chance to react, Monty lifted her a few inches off the ground. He strained with the effort - it was always harder to lift something the heavier...e-er, further away it was from him - but he managed to bring her close enough to negate most of the weight for now. Unfortunately he couldn't negate her protests.

"Monty!!" she screamed, squirming in his grasp. "What are you doing?! Put me down, you're going to get us both killed!!"

Monty steeled himself, ignoring her for now. He put his head down, and began to sprint out of the narrow tunnel. Something about this felt innately natural to him as he weaved through the pathways. The sounds of the ground, his footsteps, even the crackling fire seemed to fade from his mind as he dashed back upwards to the surface. His eyes squinted in reaction as he saw a light in front of him. Eliciting a gasp, he brought his entire upper body almost parallel to the ground and made one last physical push towards the open air.

Twenty seconds later he and Squirtle were collapsed on the mountain ground, Monty gasping for air as he futilely tried to refill his lungs so that they would stop driving tiny microscopic daggers into the rest of his chest. There was a subtle quaking beneath him, but as far as he could figure, he and Squirtle were both safe.

"...Thank you," Squirtle said, shakily bringing herself to her feet. "I'm...not that fast of a runner. Or a very good navigator. So...that was good. What you did there."

Monty sat up, wincing as he held his chest. "I was only doing what needed to be done. No need to thank me, Squirtle," he replied, giving her a small smile.

Squirtle shook her head. "Don't downplay yourself. If you weren't here...well, I'd probably still be alive, and I'm a good enough digger to get out myself if I were caved in...but I'd be out for at least a day or two, and...I think this is a way better option."

Monty gave a slow nod, still winded. "...Though I suppose we failed the mission, hmm?" Monty panted. "We...we were unable to retrieve the tools."

Squirtle shook her head. "Don't let that beat you up. You did a really good job in there." She dug into her bag, and set a sitrus berry in front of Monty. "When you're feeling better we'll head back."

Coran was pretty sure with all this pacing he was going to wear a trench into the interior of his home. His eyes glanced nervously every fifteen seconds or so towards the front entrance, expecting Squirtle and Monty to come gallivanting through at any moment. His paw idly fiddled with the looplet around his arm - he had decided to keep it. It looked good, and he figured he should have something to show for this trip. Other than what little he could get from the list Squirtle gave him. Though perhaps he should take it off for now. Wearing jewellery he'd purchased with Squirtle's funds probably wouldn't give her the best impression about what he'd been up to. He began to tug it off of his paw, right as he heard Squirtle and Monty talking outside.

"...I still can't get over that. Why even send us on the mission?"

"Well, we were still paid, yes? Doesn't that validate the job in and of itself?"

oh no

Coran frantically yanked the bracelet off and chucked it into the back wall, near his room. It made a metallic clink and rolled past the partition to his room, thankfully out of sight.

Squirtle walked into the door first, sliding her bag off of her shoulder. "Hey, Coran. How'd your day go?"

".....Gooood," Coran said, drawling the word out. "Yours?"

Squirtle rolled her eyes. "We were supposed to get these tools from a mine, but turns out one of their workers had gotten them already and they just didn't know. We were still paid, but...I dunno, stuff like that annoys me. You got the groceries?"

"...M-hm." Coran tried his best not to make his voice crack. He nodded towards the table in the main room, where a rather small bag was sitting. "All in there."

Squirtle stared at it for a few moments, causing Coran to break into a cold sweat. She knew. Oh, God, she knew.

"That's, uh..." She turned her head to look at him. "That's pretty small."

"...M-hm," Coran agreed, slowly walking backwards.

"Do you have any change?"

"...Mm-mm."

"Are there any other bags?"

Okay. Yes, there was. There was another bag in Coran's room filled to the brim with useless trinkets but there was no way in hell he was showing her that.

".........Mm-mm."

Squirtle, by this time, had opened the bag. She began to look through it, saying absolutely nothing.

It was at this moment Monty joined the two of them in the room, rubbing the top of his head with his hand. "It's begun raining outside. Might turn rather frightful within the hour..."

"You can stay in the living room if you don't want to go home," Squirtle offered.

"Oh, no, no," Monty retorted, holding up a hand. "I enjoy the rain. And even if I didn't, I would never dream of imposing."

"Coran, could you put the flood guard at the entrance?" Squirtle asked. "And while you're doing that you can tell me why Shuppet raised her prices for eight hundred Poké's worth of groceries to six thousand Poké."

Coran grimaced and let out a long sigh, picking up a heavy sack and hoisting it over his shoulder. He began to trudge towards the entrance, and laid it down in front to block any rain water from coming in. As he did, however, he noticed a shadow on the ground. He looked up...

"...Squirtle?" he called. "......There's someone at the door."

Link to Chapter 10

Make no mistake, Squirtle had been trying to fill in this gap of silence with a shriek of terror, a declaration of revenge, a gasp, a yell, anything. But nothing came. Like Coran himself, she was frozen to the spot, nothing in her body willing to work. She couldn’t express any sort of emotion over this.

As a result, the offending Chandelure didn’t seem to notice that they’d arrived. It was still mumbling to itself.

“Poor soul...poor delicious soul...trapped in ice, like a Poké-popsicle...what to do? What to do…?”

She heard a sharp breath above her. Startled, she whipped her head up and saw Monty with his mouth open as if he was ready to say something. At the last moment, however, his orange reptile-like eyes focused on her, and he shut his mouth.

He carefully leant down closer to her. “...He doesn’t seem to be the perpetrator,” he said, his voice barely above silence. “He’s speaking as if he had discovered your friend like this, rather than causing it himself.”

Squirtle adamantly shook her head. “I’m not falling for it. It’s a trick. Ghosts are always up to tricks.”

“Why lie when no one is in the room?” Monty whispered back.

“Maybe he already knows. Maybe he’s trying to convince himself of the lie to lie better.”

“I think you're acting a little irrational. Correct me if I’m wrong, but we’re at a type disadvantage, the both of us. We should avoid a battle if we can help it.”

“I \know we’re at a type disadvantage, I’m not an idiot…! But look what he did to Coran! Are you saying that we should just greet him like he’s an old friend?!”

“You two have very loud whispers.”

Squirtle’s muscles tensed and she slowly craned her neck towards the Chandelure. It was facing them, the hollow yellow eyes boring into her skull. The purple flame within the glass-like chamber gave the cave an eerie glow, causing an odd shadow to dance on the ground in front of them.

Monty was trembling. He had never been so scared before. Sure, he was an Exploring Rescue Team Pokémon Captain Extraordinaire, and sure, he's not bad at the ‘Exploring’ part, but the ‘Rescue’ bit he was a little rustier on. And what better first mission to stretch the old ‘Rescue’ nerve than with a floating fire ghost somehow capable of turning Pokémon into solid ice?

He stepped forward. “...My name is Monty Montgomery, Exploring Rescue…” He shook his head. “I request that you inform us exactly what transpired here, and the reason as to which…erm…you are holding a defenseless…civilian…in icy incarceration.”

The Chandelure studied him for a few moments. “...in icy incarceration. That’s good.”

“...Come again?”

“Catchy.”

“Excuse me?”

Squirtle stepped forward. “Why did you freeze Coran?! Let him go right now!”

The Chandelure shifted its focus to Squirtle. “I didn’t freeze him.”

“What?! Of course, you did!” Squirtle spat. “Monty saw you drag him away! Was he frozen then?!”

Monty stepped back and looked at Squirtle. “W-well...it was far away. Now that I look at Coran at the moment...and recall the incident...it could be possible that he was frozen already.”

“...You guys like accusing me,” Chandelure whispered, a quivering in its voice to suggest that it was hurt.

Monty gulped. “Perhaps we should tread more lightly, Squirtle,” he said slowly. Monty made sure that Chandelure could hear this, though. He was more saying it for its benefit than for his or Squirtle’s. “...Did you take Coran here?”

Chandelure swivelled in the air to turn towards the frozen Riolu in an agonisingly slow motion. “...I did.”

Monty swore he could hear Squirtle bristle at that. But thankfully, she kept quiet. He continued. “Was he frozen when you took him?”

There was another silence before it answered. “...I can’t remember.”

“...Excuse me?” Squirtle growled.

“It’s hard for me to tell if something is frozen or not, considering I have no sense of sight or feeling.”

This took Monty by surprise. It had eyes, didn’t it? “...You’re looking at us right now, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“But you-!” Squirtle began.

“Your souls. I can see your souls.” The words hung in the air like a one-ton weight suspended by a thread.

A shiver coursed through Squirtle’s body. “Wait...then...Coran’s still alive?”

The Chandelure’s purple flame billowed inside its glass body. Monty heard a high pitched chuckle permeate the frigid air. “His soul’s still in there. His poor poor soul...so much anguish…”

“Let him out…” Squirtle’s voice came out shaking. “Please, just let him out.”

“I don’t think you want him to be let out yet.”

Monty took a deep breath, steeling himself. “I hate to interrupt, but you are not in a position to tell us whether we want him to be let out yet or not,” he stated in as authoritative a tone as he could muster.

The Chandelure chuckled momentarily. “If...you insist.”

The fire on the ends of the Chandelure began to flicker as it was drawn back to Coran’s frozen form. The closer it got, the more its flames began to billow until the shell of ice began to melt.

Coran fell to the ground in a crumpled shivering heap, murmuring to himself in a voice too fast and hushed to sound normal. Squirtle instantly dashed towards him, completely disregarding the scary crazy floating ghost.

“Coran!!” Squirtle yelled, skidding to a stop next to him. “Please tell me you’re okay...are you-”

Squirtle’s cry of concern was instantly ended as an impact with the force of a gunshot smashed into her nose, sending her flying backwards. Her back collided with the rear of the cave with a grisly thud, and her eyelids dipped as she tried to maintain consciousness. She was vaguely aware of her nose bleeding.

Monty sprung into action the moment Coran had punched her. Instantly vines were upon the Riolu, who got up to his feet in a screaming rage. His paws latched onto the vines in a vice-like grip and began to pull Monty closer. The Servine stumbled forward before he was - like Squirtle - slammed backwards with a powerful kick. He let out a cry of shock, letting go of the Riolu as he rolled back to try and lessen the impact. He looked up, readying himself for another blow. But it didn’t come.

Instead, he went after Squirtle again.

With a cry of what sounded like anguish, Coran began sprinting towards Squirtle, rolling back his fist in preparation for a punch. Through tears of recoiling pain, she was able to make out Coran’s eyes. They were glazed as if he were only half-present. He seemed to be looking through her. Her vision was then dominated by his fist as it collided with her stomach, crushing her against the rock wall.

The impact was lessened by a green rope wrapping around his waist, yanking him backwards. Coran began to thrash on the ground, his balance lost as more vines began to wrap around his limbs, pinning his arms and legs together.

Monty was straining, trying to keep Coran restrained on the ground. “Are...are you alright?” His red eyes were directed at Squirtle.

Her vision was fuzzy, and her breathing was shallow and stilted. Coran’s punch to her stomach didn’t break any ribs, but it knocked the wind out of her, and she laid on the ground, gasping for breath. She was vaguely aware of Monty’s question and was able to give a subtle nod. Her head rolled towards the Chandelure, and she mustered up the angriest expression she could.

He stared at her with what could only be described as a neutral expression. “...I tried to warn you. He is not himself.”

“...What...happened…?” Squirtle breathed, shivering weakly on the floor as she wiped at the blood coming from her nose.

“I can only assume he has fallen victim to the Voice,” the Chandelure said solemnly.

Coran’s thrashing on the ground fell still, allowing Monty to relax. He hung his head, falling back to rest. “...Please explain,” he said between pants. “What...is this Voice?”

“A powerful psychic presence that preys on Pokémon,” the Chandelure murmured, slowly floating closer to Coran. “The Drasil Roots are wilting. This weakens the state of the Pokémon that live off it. And this Voice...influences them. And when it stops...they die.”

Squirtle’s blood ran cold.

“...he’s not dead,” she whispered, slowly treading closer to his unmoving body. “He’s not dead.”

“He’s not dead,” the Chandelure confirmed. “But I expect he will be soon. None last long after the Voice’s influence over them fades. There’s simply nothing left for them to obey. Their mind is gone, their Voice is gone...they become lifeless.”

“...Get up,” she murmured, her voice trembling. She was trembling too. “Get up. Get up! Get up! Get up, Coran!!” Hovering over his body, Squirtle began to scream. Tears began to well in her eyes.

I’ve never had someone die. I’ve never had someone die. I’ve never had someone die.

Everything else in the room began to fade away. It was just her and Coran. Coran’s lifeless body. His face was in an expression of torment, though it was quickly fading into a calm expression.

Was this what death looked like?

“NO!!” With a scream, Squirtle raised a paw and slapped it across Coran’s cheek as hard as she could. “NO NO NO!!”

Coran let out a cry of pain and recoiled, bringing a paw up to his face. “O-ow!!”

The room went completely silent.

Coran awoke to a sharp stinging pain on his left cheek. With an exclamation of pain, he rolled on the hard ground from the impact of the slap. “O-ow!!” He opened his eyes and saw Squirtle. “Y-y-you r-really don’t know...h-how to wake someone up…”

It was only halfway through this sentence that Coran noticed something was very very wrong with where he was. He was soaked and freezing. Squirtle’s expression displayed no anger, no chiding look. Instead, it was one of paralysing awe. Her mouth hung agape, her red eyes in a round shape of shock. She couldn’t stop staring at him as if he’d just morphed into a berry or something.

And his fists hurt really badly.

“...What’s g-going on?”

A sort of stuttering noise came from Squirtle’s throat. Her lips were trying to move, but they shifted in a strange jerking motion as if she didn’t have full control over them. It looked like she was choking.

“E-err…” a voice behind Coran made him jump, and he swivelled his head backwards.

He saw the upside-down form of a Servine staring at him with a similar yet different look to Squirtle. His, while also filled with a sort of bewilderment, was also abundant in a healthy dose of fear and caution. This had to be the one who had spoken.

“...My name is Monty Montgomery,” he said carefully, taking a step backwards. “...I assume you are Squirtle’s friend?”

“C-Coran,” the Riolu replied slowly. “...And-d you are?”

The Servine gave him a strange stare at that.

“You’re okay,” Squirtle’s voice whispered, accompanied by shaking footsteps. Coran directed his fuzzy gaze back to Squirtle. She’d gotten closer, and this allowed him to see what a wreck she was. Whatever she’d done to get down here, something did a number on her. Her muzzle was spattered red from blood, she looked frazzled and tired, and her legs were shaking.

“You’re...you’re okay,” she said again, falling into a furry heap in front of him, putting her cheek up against his leg. Her breathing was fast, but it sounded like she was sobbing.

This only confused Coran more. For the moment, he forgot about the cold. “...Can someone please explain to me what’s going on?”

Monty’s voice began to move to his right, though it was clear he was keeping his distance. “...Your friend Squirtle has been looking for you. We found you...e-er...frozen solid and kept captive in this cave. Chandelure freed you, and...well, you proceeded to attack Squirtle in a blind fury.”

On instinct Coran’s hackles raised. “Okay, what? Look, I don’t know how long you’ve known Squirtle, but I would never just up and attack her! She’s my boss! Just because I’m a Fighting-”

“...H-he isn’t lying,” Squirtle whispered, shivering again. “You...you did this.”

Coran whipped his head back to look at her. His neck groaned in protest to this quick motion, but he didn’t care. He...he did this? “How? I...I-I would never…”

“The...the Voice,” she coughed. “Some...influence thing…” She raised her eyes to look at him. “...I-it...was not your fault…”

Coran, remembering how cold it was here, looked at Monty. “...We need to get her out of here.”

Monty took a moment to register this, and slowly nodded. “...Yes, of course.” He drew closer, however uncomfortably, and gently picked up Squirtle in his hands. She gave off a small groan of pain but made no other noise.

Coran pushed himself to a stance, shivering from the low temperature. That, and… He stole a look at Squirtle. She seemed so weak. Beaten.

Could he have really done that to her?

“If...if I hurt you, too, I…” Coran tried to find the words, looking at Monty for a moment. This wasn’t embarrassment. It was a step beyond shame.

Monty shook his head and smiled a little. “Let’s save the pleasantries for when we have refreshments and a warmer atmosphere, hmm?”

In response, Coran took a shallow breath and nodded his consent. “Right.”

With that, the two of them began to walk out of the cave, Squirtle falling into a sort of sleep.

A long hard walk and a long deep rest later, Squirtle was sitting in the common room of her business, Coran on the other side of the table. Monty was waiting outside.

“...I’ve never heard about this Voice thing before,” Squirtle murmured, holding a warm bowl of tea between her paws. “I mean, I knew that Pokemon were sort of going feral for a while - you’ve seen them - but...this scares me.”

“It got me, too,” Coran said, looking off to the side. “...I don’t remember any of it. I just...I just remember being really cold.”

The table was silent for a moment.

“So...that Monty guy.”

Squirtle perked up. “Yeah. He helped me. A lot. I’m considering hiring him, actually.”

“Considering?” Coran raised an eyebrow. “He single-handedly carried you back to Nuzlocke from Faren Heights.”

“Alright, I say considering because I’m...just not sure.” Squirtle looked back at the entrance. She could see through the front arch that he was studying the bulletin board with great interest.

“Why not?”

“...He just seems...he doesn’t look ready.” Squirtle sighed. “I mean, sure, he restrained you, but that’s...that’s restraint. He didn’t seem to be superb at fighting.”

Coran crossed his arms. “May I remind you that you hired me literally the first day I was a Pokémon?”

Squirtle gave him a look. “Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes, “but I had a real need for you. A Fighting-Type. For Monty...I’m not so sure.”

Coran sighed. “Why don’t you put him on a trial period or something? I feel like he deserves at least that.”

Squirtle looked at the Servine for a moment and nodded. “I guess it’s only fair. Maybe he is good at fighting.”

“...You should probably tell him then.”

Squirtle got up and nodded. “...Alright. I’ll give him a try.” She walked outside to talk to Monty, leaving Coran alone at the table.

I attacked someone. I attacked Squirtle. And I don’t remember it. He looked at his paws, and his mind flashed back to Squirtle’s bloodied visage. He did that.

“I had a real need for you. A Fighting-Type.”

A shudder worked its way down his spine.

Link to Chapter 9

She whirled around again. “Coran!! Where are you?!” She began to run back and forth, looking for any trace of him. He didn’t have as thick a coat as she did, so he probably wouldn’t be able to handle the cold as well as she could.

Squirtle was beginning to grow despondent when she saw a figure through the light snowfall. It definitely wasn’t Coran, but perhaps they knew where he’d gone. “Excuse me! You there!”

The figure turned around, and Squirtle saw that it was a Tirtouga, glistening with tiny crystals of ice frozen on its body. It must have been using the hot springs here when Faren Heights froze over. The shivering mass stared at her with a strange expression. Nonetheless, Squirtle walked closer.

“There’s a Riolu around here. Have you seen him? He’s not used to the cold, and I really need to find him before-”

She leaped out of the way as a sudden purple stone ripped through the air towards her. It crashed into the ground, and she stared at it with a horrified expression. She looked back at the prehistoric turtle as it began to drag itself towards her with strangely empty eyes,  glowing a deep purple - the same shade that emanated from the rock. Squirtle’s mind switched to defense mode as the Tirtouga began to hobble towards her.

It’s a Water and Rock type, she thought. My attacks aren’t going to do anything against it. I just need to get out of here as soon as I can-

Her heart jumped. Coran.

A sudden lunge from the Tirtouga snapped her back to attention, the jaws of the turtle snapping just a couple of inches away from her face. She gave a yelp and tried to kick dirt up into its eyes. However, she didn’t take into account the frozen ground, and nothing came. Her mind racing, she quickly turned tail and began to flee.

That is, until she ran straight into someone, and tumbled backward.

“Goodness gracious,” a voice came from in front of her. “I apologize, my mind is quite preoccupied at the moment! Are you alright?”

Squirtle got to her feet and looked up, her hackles raised in preparation for a fight.

A Servine looked at her in surprise and took a few paces back. “I mean no harm! I’m simply investigating!”

No way.

“You...you’re that Servine that was talking in front of my house! The one talking to that Breloom about the Drasil roots! What are you doing here?!” she yelled. This was a townsperson! A citizen! Didn’t he realize how dangerous this place was?! “You have to get back to Nuzlocke as-”

His face suddenly brightened. “Ah, so you remember me! I’m flattered!” He grinned and bowed at the waist, completely oblivious of his interruption. “I remember you as well! The Eevee towards whom Marvin was so impolite. Though I don’t quite recall your name.”

As she was still in defense mode from the Tirtouga, Squirtle’s mind was reeling from the polite conversation this guy was trying to have with her. Didn’t he realize this was a war zone? Their lives were in danger! She turned around, seeing the Tirtouga still hobbling after her. “I don’t have time to talk right now, I have to get-”

“Oh, is that sir giving you trouble?” the Servine said, observing the turtle carefully. “...Ah, boy’s gone mad,” he sighed. “I can tell from the expression he carries. I’ve been doing some research here, and my findings have been absolutely fascinating!”

Squirtle jumped out of the way of another rock. She was becoming increasingly annoyed with this Servine. “Do you mind?! I’m trying to fend off attempts on my life here!”

“...Ah.” The Servine looked at the rock for a few moments. His gaze redirected to the Tirtouga, he flicked his wrist, and the turtle suddenly stopped moving. Four blue blades of grass had wrapped themselves around each of its flippers. “...There we are. Foe incapacitated.”

Squirtle stared at the Tirtouga, sluggishly struggling against its bindings. She was speechless. How could someone like him deal with that thing so easily? She supposed he had a definite type advantage, but he wasn’t trained in this! He was a bystander! A civilian!

She turned to him, fuming. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

With a flourish, the Servine once again bowed. “Monty Montgomery, at your service. Though...I’m not quite at your service at the moment.” He held her gaze expectantly. He obviously wanted her to ask why he wasn’t at her service at the moment.

“Why aren’t you at my service at the moment,” Squirtle droned.

“I am not at your service at the moment,” Monty said, closing his eyes in a somewhat proud expression, “because I am conducting my own freelance investigation. You recall, of course, the conversation I was holding with Marvin about the state of the Drasil roots, correct?”

“Yes,” Squirtle said with a slow nod. “That’s why I came down here. Because I heard about it and wanted to see it for myself.”

Monty nodded enthusiastically. “Well, after you stormed off in a huff after Marvin’s remarks, I began to think. I told myself, ‘Monty, you enjoy living in this world, do you not?’ ‘Yes, I do indeed,’ I replied. ‘So as a citizen of this world, it is my duty to do my part to protect it from the forces of evil!’ I said. And once again, I agreed. I often find that I agree with myself.” He chuckled at the joke.

Squirtle didn’t.

“So, I decided I would mull about my plan over breakfast. Most important meal of the day, you know, very good for fuelling the brain. And I mulled this over and over in my head, thinking about the consequences of passing this by. And I said to myself, ‘Monty, if you stand by, you are simply not going to be able to forgive yourself for your inactivity!’ So I decided right there and then that I would head up to Faren Heights and investigate the strange goings on there! I proclaimed myself an Exploring Rescue Team Pokémon Captain Extraordinaire and came straight here!”

Squirtle was beginning to get a headache. This guy was a bystander. The Tirtouga was a fluke, it was dangerous for him here. It was her responsibility as a professional to escort him out of here before he got hur-

Coran.

Arceus DAMN it!

“Look,” she said, bristling. “You’re not ready for this, okay? You need to get out of here before you’re hurt. I have someone that I need to find, and there’s something really scary going on here, and you are not prepared for this environment. So please, go back to Nuzlocke before you get killed!”

“Oh, well, I’m perfectly aware of the sketchiness here - so to speak. As a matter of fact, I witnessed a kidnapping just a moment ago.”

Squirtle’s blood ran cold. “...what?”

Monty nodded earnestly. “Yes, it’s true! I would have told you earlier, but the incident with the Tirtouga diverted my train of thought, and I felt it prudent to introduce myself and my purpose first.”

“Just tell me what happened!”

“Well, it was a short while after I first arrived here. I noticed a few figures in the foggy distance, and I drew closer, ready to ask some questions and get started with my investigation! But something felt off with the situation - when you’re an Exploring Rescue Team Pokémon Captain Extraordinaire, you develop a sense for these things - so I hung back. I could see an Eevee - I assume that was you - a Riolu, and a Chandelure.”

This simple explanation was making Squirtle unravel emotionally. She felt anger towards Monty for hanging back and not doing anything. She felt dread as she realized that since she was still here, Coran must have been the victim. But something new took hold of her heart at the last word he uttered.

Chandelure.

This had to be a nightmare. It had to be. Of all the Pokémon that could have taken Coran, why did it have to be a Ghost type!? Since she was simply Normal, she wouldn’t be able to touch it! It wouldn’t even be that bad, if it wasn’t a Fire type, too. So she would quite literally have to watch herself burn. Her ears folded against her head and she brought a paw up to touch the fragment of a stone around her neck. Her heart began to beat faster, as it usually did when she touched it.

“Wh...where did it take him?” she whispered, her voice shaking.

Monty raised a hand and pointed at the lava pit. “There. The Chandelure picked him up and dropped down over that cliff. I was going to tend to you since you seemed to be unconscious, but I thought I wouldn’t want to lose track of someone who was being actively taken. I carefully crawled closer and closer to the ledge, looking for some escape route it might have used. There’s a plateau down there that one could drop down to.”

“...Did you go after him?” Squirtle’s voice cracked.

Monty solemnly shook his head. “At that moment, a Magcargo appeared, and I had to make a hasty retreat. That is also why I was unable to assist you.”

There was so much wrong with this situation. If Squirtle wanted to get Coran back, she would have to go up against a Chandelure. She would have to drop down to a ledge at least ten feet down. Not only would that be a nasty fall, but she wouldn’t be able to climb back up again. And worst of all…

...Monty had the potential to solve both of these problems.

He may be at a type disadvantage against Fire types, but at least he would be able to do something against Chandelure. If nothing else, he would be able to serve as a distraction while Squirtle rescued Coran. As for the cliff, Squirtle recalled that the Serperior line had access to vines - rather strong ones. Monty would be able to use these to give them both a safe descent and a possible ascent afterward.

Like it or not, Squirtle would need to enlist Monty’s help.

“...The Riolu that was taken,” Squirtle said slowly, her voice somewhat choked, “was my partner. I need to get him back.”

Monty straightened his back and looked up at the sky in a solemn manner. “Then I swear to you, as an Exploring Rescue Team Pokémon Captain Extraordinaire, I will do my utmost to save him from the clutches of evil.”

Despite her despondence, Squirtle winced. Was he posing? Dramatically? Did he think this was some kind of game?!

No, Squirtle, don’t get mad at him. Yet. You can’t afford to.

Yet.

“I’d really appreciate it. But we need to start right now.” Squirtle turned around and began walking back to the pit.

Behind her, she heard Monty chime in with his ever so present running commentary. “Ah, yes, I couldn’t agree more! Getting the jump on an unfortunate situation before it can spiral out of control. Very wise.”

Squirtle ignored him for now. “Can you get me down there?” she asked, looking up at him as he approached.

He nodded in the affirmative. “It seems a bit far, but it shouldn’t be too hard for an Exploring Rescue Team Pokémon Captain Extraordinaire!”

Squirtle pursed her lips. “You can’t just call yourself something like that,” she mumbled.

“Sorry?”

She turned towards him, somewhat impatiently. “You can’t just call yourself an Exploring Rescue Team Pokémon Captain Extraordinaire.”

“But I am an Exploring Rescue Team Pokémon Captain Extraordinaire!”

“Monty, that’s not even a thing. And of the two of us, if anyone is an Exploring Rescue Team Pokémon Captain Extraordinaire, it’s me.”

“Well, if you’re _an Exploring Rescue Team Pokémon Captain Extraordinaire, then why can’t _I be an Exploring Res-”

“Because I’ve been doing this exploring thing way longer than you have now please we really need to save my friend before anything bad happens to him so can you please help me down there?”

Monty let out an indignified huff and produced two long vines. They slowly coiled around Squirtle’s waist, and she was gently lifted off the ground and brought over the gap.

Squirtle looked down. It was a ten-foot drop to the cave below. And a much larger drop to the blue lava below that. Her pulse quickened as her mind produced images of her crisp chilled corpse colliding with the strange substance below her. At first, she wasn’t quite sure why she was dead on impact in the image, though she soon remembered that she was currently at the mercy of an ‘Exploring Rescue Team Pokémon Captain Extraordinaire’. If the lava didn’t kill her, he might.

But to her surprise Squirtle quickly found herself on solid ground once again, on the outcropping of rock she had pointed out earlier. She looked up and saw that Monty was lowering himself, using his vines to rappel down the cliffside. He alighted on the ledge with a surprising yet unnecessary amount of grace. Turning to her, he looked down at Squirtle and gave her a smug smile.

“...Yeah, yeah, let’s just go,” Squirtle grumbled. “We’re on a time limit, remember?”

Monty nodded solemnly. “Ah, yes. Your friend. Let us rescue him post-haste!”

It was dark in the cave. Despite the ever-present sub-zero lava, the dull blue glow that reflected off of the arid cave walls did not prove to provide ample light. This specific climate was not one Squirtle was very used to - cold and dry. She’d experienced the other three combinations of extremes. Hot and wet, hot and dry, and cold and wet. But this was an entirely new experience to her. And she wasn’t quite sure she liked it. The air stung as she breathed it in as if there were small bristles packed into each air particle. The tactile feeling the atmosphere gave her went beyond the word ‘crisp’. Even in these subterranean tunnels, it felt like ice was trying to form in the very air she breathed. It was not a comfortable feeling.

Monty seemed to be even more affected by it. He was trying to put on a brave face, but it was obvious that the cold was getting to him quite badly. His eyes were half closed, and he was shivering violently. Not only did he lack a fur coat to beat the cold, but his typing made him even more susceptible to frigid environments. Squirtle thought a moment. There had to be something that she could do - after all, she did still need him to help stave off whatever that Chandelure had planned. That pesky Ghost typing meant that Squirtle wouldn’t be able to do anything to it by herself.

“You holding up alright?” Squirtle asked, turning her head to look at Monty.

He jumped and looked down at Squirtle in shock. His expression quickly calmed, however, and he gave a nod. “Absolutely. The thrill of adventure is all one requires to stay warm!”

“If by ‘thrill of adventure’ you mean ‘some form of insulation’, sure,” Squirtle said flatly. “Look, you’re cold-blooded anyways, and you don’t have fur or anything. I don’t want to have to deal with a frozen corpse.”

Monty paused. “Well...you didn’t have to put it in such a macabre fashion, but I suppose I could whip up some source of heat if it will appease your worries.”

He began to dig into his bag and pulled out a stick about two feet long. He then removed two off-black stones and a plethora of berries. Meticulously, he began to pluck off the leaves from the stems of the berries, placing the fruits back into his bag. He gathered the leaves on the ground, took the two stones, and smashed them together. The sparks settled on the stack of leaves, and they slowly but surely began to develop a flame. Finally, he took the end of the stick and held it to the quickly dwindling fire, and the torch ignited.

Monty sighed in relief as the pile of leaves quickly burned out. “Just in time,” he said, before smirking slightly. “Or shall I say, thyme…?”

“...You just said that,” Squirtle replied.

Monty looked at her for a few moments. “Oh, no, I meant thyme, the herb. You see, I used leaves to make fire, and-”

“Alright, alright, let’s keep going,” Squirtle said. She was still acting pretty gruff around him, but she had to admit that was somewhat impressive. Exploring Rescue Team Pokémon Captain Extraordinaire or no, he did come prepared. And that show of survival skills was kind of cool.

Monty, now that he was able to bask in the heat coming from the open flame in his hand, seemed to fare much better than he had earlier. He was still quite cold, that much was obvious, but at least it didn’t seem as if he was going to be losing any limbs to severe frostbite anymore.

“...Erm, Squirtle, was it?” Monty’s voice surprised her and made her jump.

“Yeah?”

“What is it that you do?”

He was making small talk. Now, of all times and places, this guy thought it was a good idea to make small talk. She heaved a sigh. “In a few words, I’m a professional explorer and problem solver. I own the business you and Marvin were arguing in front of this morning.”

She heard a small gasp come from the grass snake._ Here it comes…_

“Own the business? How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” Squirtle said automatically. “I’m sixteen years old.”

“Goodness! A business owner at sixteen!” Monty marveled. “What an accomplished young woman!”

“Well, it hasn’t been easy to get people to take you seriously when you’re as young as I am, but I think I’ve made a pretty good way for myself.”

The cave lapsed into silence, with only the echoing footsteps of the two Pokémon to accompany the tension that was gripping both of them the further in the caves they got.

“Um...what about you?” Squirtle asked stiffly.

“I come from a long line of cartographers,” Monty explained.

Squirtle looked back at him for a moment as they walked. “Cartographers? That has to do with maps and stuff, yeah?”

Monty nodded proudly. “If you have a map, there is quite a high probability that someone in my family has contributed to it.”

That earned a whistle. “That big, huh? Have you been doing any mapping out?”

“Unfortunately not,” Monty sighed. “As it turns out, most of the modern world has indeed been mapped out already. My own parents have mostly been working on remapping regions that had changed in some way over the centuries, but something as dull as that never held my interest.”

I’ll give him this, he enjoys talking, Squirtle thought._ It’s helping keep my mind off of what’s inevitably coming next._

“But what do you do for money? You don’t still live with your parents, do you?”

Monty laughed. “Oh, no, absolutely not. But...well, I had helped out on an archaeological expedition crew that lasted roughly six months. But the expedition’s over, so...I’m out of a job.” He let out a wry chuckle. “There’s the rub with adventure. It can only ever last so long.”

The ceiling began to vault higher and higher the further the two delved into the network of caves. Squirtle was beginning to get nervous. She’d taken on her fair share of outlaws in her time, and she knew that they tended to reside in places like these, open chambers where they could stash their loot and cackle villainously.

“...poor soul, poor soul…” a melodious yet raspy voice echoed through the caves, its voice taking on a moist quality from the dampness of the walls. “...poor poor soul…”

“Do you hear that…?” Squirtle whispered, freezing in her tracks.

Monty nodded solemnly. “That must be our target.”

“Then let’s get going,” Squirtle whispered, once again pressing on.

The dark hallway opened up, as Squirtle predicted, into a large open chamber. But unlike what she was used to, there was moisture in this room. Some of the ice must have been melted somehow.

No, Squirtle knew how.

There, floating about in the middle of the room, was a glowing purple sphere, spewing a ghostly fire from its body. It was shaped like a chandelier, that was to be sure...but it wasn’t a simple decoration. This...thing...it was what kidnapped Coran. It was whispering to itself in the middle of the room…

“Squirtle…” Monty whispered.

She looked up at him and saw that he was terrified. He slowly raised a trembling hand to point at something that was resting in the center of the room.

Squirtle followed his gaze, and she saw it. Her heart nearly crushed itself from the sudden wave of anxiety that crashed over her. Her vision began to swim, and she would have toppled over had Monty not caught her. A scream was caught in her throat as her eyes tried to comprehend what she was seeing.

There, in the middle of the room, was Coran, frozen solid.

Link to Chapter 8

Squirtle decided now would be a good time to butt in. “Er, excuse me?” she called. “What happened to the Drasil?”

Both Marvin and the Servine turned to her. Marvin gave her a bemused expression, but said nothing. Servine stepped up to the plate instead. “Earlier this morning,” he said, leaning forward. “The Drasil root running beneath Faren Heights apparently wilted. You know Faren Heights, yes?”

Squirtle rolled her eyes. “Yes, I know Faren Heights,” she said. It was a very hot place up in the northeast, filled with geysers and volcanoes. It was a hotspot for both Water-types and Fire-types, no pun intended.

“Well, reports say that it’s been frozen solid.”

A sudden gong crashed in Squirtle’s head. Faren Heights...frozen? No, it couldn’t be frozen! Just because the Tree of Life isn’t actively feeding the land, that can’t mean that something that drastic could happen, right?! “Are you sure?”

“Quite sure,” he replied with a nod.

“...I need to check this out for myself,” she mumbled, going to turn back inside.

She heard a scoff from behind her. “I wouldn’t, if I were you,” the Breloom’s voice came.

“And why wouldn’t you?” Squirtle retorted, spinning around to give him a sour look.

Marvin didn’t flinch. “Because it’s very dangerous,” he said in a rather patronizing tone. “Especially for basic-forms like you.”

Squirtle’s eye twitched. Basic-form? “Hey, I’ve went on more expeditions than you’ve taken shopping trips! I’m pretty sure that this basic-form can handle a bit of heat.”

He didn’t look impressed. “Well, that’s all well and good, but it doesn’t matter.”

“What?!” Squirtle exploded, bristling. “Why not?!”

“Because Faren Heights froze. You’re not going to be getting any heat there.”

“W-well, I can handle cold climates just as well as I can handle heat!” Squirtle said with a decisive nod.

“Mmm,” Marvin said, looking disinterested. He pulled out an apple and took a bite out of it. “Anyways,” he continued, stil chewing. “I’ve got to get going. More shopping trips to do.” With that, he sauntered off towards Nuzlocke.

Squirtle, fuming, growled under her breath. “Oh, you think you’re so superior, huh? You think I can’t do anything...I’ll show you. I’ll show you HARD.” Squirtle spun around and stormed back into her business.

Servine blinked. “...Well, er...I’ve got...a thing to do as well! So I had better go and do that thing!” He coughed. “...For Mary’s sake, that is not how one leaves a conversation.”

“Coran!” Squirtle burst into the building, fire in her eyes. “Get up! We’re going on a business trip!!”

“...Wha…?” Coran slowly sat up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. He was not prepared to be woken up in this manner this early in the morning. “...What are we doing? And why?”

Squirtle stalked over to his ‘room’ and pulled the curtain aside. “We’re going to be checking out Faren Heights because apparently something really bad is going on involving the Drasil roots and some extremely rude Pokémon thinks I can’t do it so we’re going to do it.”

“Wait…” Coran was still reeling from the sudden alarm, rubbing the side of his head. “Slow down...what are we doing? Where are we going? What’s going on with roots?”

“Going to Faren Heights, Faren Heights, something about the Drasil roots is wrong. Keep up, Coran!” Squirtle growled.

"You seem...agitated," Coran said slowly.

Squirtle began pacing back and forth. “Just because I’m an Eevee doesn’t mean I can’t handle snow. I can handle snow. I can handle anything, I’m a professional! He’s just a heckler from the sidelines, he has no right to criticize me on how I do my job! I’ll show him...I’ll figure out what’s wrong with the Drasil myself if I have to shove it right down his cocky little-”

“Hold on, wait, wait.” Coran was standing now, waving his arms slowly. “What is a Drasil? Is that a Pokémon or something?”

Squirtle stared at him for a few moments, before her face softened. “Oh. Right. Amnesia.”

“And the human thing.”

Squirtle rolled her eyes. “Yes, the human thing, too. I still don’t fully believe you about that.”

“Didn’t think you would.”

“Anyway, back on topic,” Squirtle said, “the Drasil is this huge tree that’s directly smack dab in the middle of the Eastern Continent. Its roots spread across the entire land and parts of the surrounding sea, and they keep everything in check. Hot places stay hot, cold places cold, such and such, so on, so on, etcetera. From what I’m hearing, though, the roots are wilting for some reason. And if they’re wilting, they can’t keep the life force flowing to the regions in the right way, and apparently that messes things up. Faren Heights, a volcanic field, has apparently been frozen over.”

“...And we’re going there because…”

“Because we can,” Squirtle said plainly.

“How is this any of our business?” Coran asked tiredly, stifling a yawn.

“It’s everybody’s business, Coran!”

“And...is there even a way to stop this?” Coran continued. “If this is some magical tree that gives life to all the land, I feel like it should have some sort of protection.”

“Well, apparently there’s some guardian that takes care of it,” Squirtle said. “But it seems as if he’s been slacking.”

“...Yeah, uh...I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“Get your stuff together, we’re going,” Squirtle said. “We’re going to prove ourselves, and improve our business’s public relations, and show jerks like Marvin that we’re not helpless!”

Coran closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples, but sighed. “Alright, fine.”

“Hello, and welcome to Banette’s Bazaar...how may I- oh, hey, it’s Ms. Thesaurus! Welcome!” Shuppet beamed, grinning at Squirtle.

“It’s Squirtle, thank you,” Squirtle said with a sigh. “I’d like to get some orbs, please.”

Shuppet nodded. “Sure. Do you want to browse, or have me get them for you? And what kinds would you like?”

“We’re kind of in a hurry, so if you could get them that’d be great,” Squirtle replied. “Do you have any weather modifiers?”

“Um...hold on, let me check.” She floated back into the shop, leaving Coran and Squirtle to wait at the front.

“...Weather modifiers?” Coran echoed. “What the heck does that mean?”

“Well, you break orbs against the ground to use them,” Squirtle explained. “Some of them can change the weather.”

“...And...they sell these things...in general stores…” Coran said slowly, trying to process this information.

“Yeah, why?”

“...Never mind,” Coran said with a nonchalant shrug. “I lost my train of thought.”

At that moment, Shuppet came back with a small basket in tow. “We have a Hail Orb, a Rainy Orb, a Sandy Orb, and a Sunny Orb,” she said, placing them down on the counter. Each of the orbs seemed to have elements of their effects stirring within them...Coran was mesmerized by the Sandy Orb in particular, with gusts of wind carrying tiny sand particles in swirls back and forth within the Orb.

“They’re all dusty,” Squirtle said. “How old are these?”

“Well, orbs aren’t really in high demand nowadays,” Shuppet replied. “And since Orbs don’t actually expire, we just keep them in the back until we need them.”

Squirtle gave her a strange look. “You only dust in the places that Pokémon can see?”

“We cut corners where we can," Shuppet smiled, before turning back towards the shelf.

Coran slowly picked up the Sandy Orb, tilting it this way and that. The sand inside didn’t seem to be affected the slightest by gravity - he wondered whether it was magic or not. Experimentally, he gently shook the orb. Again, the sand didn’t seem affected.

“Oh, uh, careful,” Shuppet warned. The orb glowed a soft blue, and it was lifted out of Coran’s paws. He looked up to meet the strange eyes of Shuppet. “If that breaks, we’ll have a sandstorm on our hands.”

Coran stared at her for a few moments longer, before looking down at the orb she had placed back in the basket. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Shuppet said, giving Coran a sweet smile. “It didn’t break, so we’re good. Anyways, which one are you going to buy?”

“Well, we’re going to Faren Heights, so-” Squirtle began.

“Ah, the Hail Orb then, huh?” Shuppet nodded, another one of the orbs glowing blue, and gently lifting out of the basket. Coran’s gaze was fixed on it.

“No, no, didn’t you hear?” Squirtle asked. “Faren Heights is frozen over!”

“...What?!”

The glow disappeared over the orb and it began to plummet. Coran shot forward and caught the sphere in his paws before it could shatter against the table. He slowly stood up, and looked at the two girls. They were staring at him rather incredulously.

“...Well...I just figured that if it broke, this one would hail, right?” he mumbled, and placed it back in the basket. “That’s all.”

Squirtle held his gaze for a few moments, before nodding her thanks. “...Yeah, you’re right.” She turned back to Shuppet. “We need a Sunny Orb.”

Shuppet let out a breath. “Right. That’ll be 100 Poké, please,” she said.

Squirtle forked over the cash. “Where’s Banette, by the way?” she asked.

“He’s out on the coast, restocking,” Shuppet said. “As usual he left me here alone to hold down the fort.” She shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

“Ah, okay. We need to discuss renewing. Our contract is coming to a close soon, and we need to look it over.”

Shuppet nodded. “Sure, I’ll pass on the word. And, uh...I bid you good fortune in your...um...unfolding endeavors!”

“Oh, give it a rest,” Squirtle chuckled, rolling her eyes a bit.

In an understatement, Coran was uncomfortable. In an overstatement, his paws were melting off. In a statement, Coran and Squirtle were making their way up the barren plains north towards Faren Heights. The horizon stretching in front of them was a rocky plain, cracked and parched under the harsh sun above. It was a pale brown, starved for any sort of moisture, and the rays of sunlight were so intense Coran swore he could hear them colliding with the ground.

“How long...until we get to...wherever that place is called…?” Coran panted, wiping his brow. Sweating with fur was a unique experience, and not altogether a pleasant one. His eyes traced the horizon, wavering slightly in the distance. It looked as if it were trying to separate itself from the ground and float up past the clouds into the cold arms of deep space. He didn’t blame it.

It took a second for Squirtle to respond. “D...do you see...that mountain up ahead?” she asked, pawing uncomfortably at the large scarf of fur around her neck.

Putting a paw over his eyes to provide them respite from the glare of the sun, Coran peered forward. Eventually through the mirage-like distance he saw a mound of land, lava spewing forth from its spire furiously. Or that’s what it looked like. Even in the midday sun, it seemed to give off an unearthly glow that radiated just how hot it would be there. “...That’s where we’re going?” Coran whispered with a tone of dread.

“...No, no…” Squirtle coughed a bit. “...To the right. Further down.”

Coran shifted his gaze. “.....That’s it?”

"That's it."

After a mere half hour of walking, Coran was beginning to wish they were back in the desert.

Faren Heights was the strangest phenomenon that Coran had ever bore witness to. It appeared as if there had been a line drawn in the ground with a marker. Inexplicably, it went from steaming cracked rocks and hardened dirt to cold grey grass, stiff with frost. Coran wanted to believe that his eyes were lying to him - he reached down and carefully drew his hand across the frozen vegetation. He gave a light gasp and brought his hand back. It was cold, and wet. He felt it. His eyes went up from the grass and he, like the world around him froze.

Spires erupted violently from the ground like gigantic stalagmites, as if a horrible frigid monster was enclosing its fearsome jaws around the landscape, concealed just below the surface. Each terrible fang rose so high from the ground that Coran felt he had to crane his neck back just to see the tip of it. But it was strange, Coran thought. Despite the cold atmosphere, the frozen nature, there was no snow. No ice. The only thing that was even close to it was the frost on the frozen grass. It was easy to tell this place used to be a desert before...whatever happened happened.

“...Whoa,” Squirtle breathed from further ahead. “...Coran, come take a look at this.” Coran gazed up to see Squirtle looking down at what seemed to be a sheer crater. Shivering a bit, he cupped his paws in front of his face, and breathed into them. He relished in the little bit of heat it provided, and walked up beside Squirtle.

It took Coran a moment to build up the courage to peer down into the pit alongside Squirtle. But once he did, he was instantly mesmerized. In the bottom of a fissure flowed a sort of lava, washing into a cave. But strangely enough, there was no feeling of heat from this molten substance. In fact, it seemed frigid to the touch.

“...It’s blue,” Coran murmured. “The lava is blue.”

Squirtle looked over at him and nodded slowly. “Yeah. I don’t know whether lava is different in your human world, but...here, lava is not blue.”

Coran would have replied with some witty comment, but his mind wasn’t exactly on that right now. His head was slowly leaning back, and coming into his view upside down were the spires he’d passed earlier. Why were they upside down…?

He swayed on his feet, his eyelids feeling heavy. Something here wasn’t right. Staggering back, he watched the sky fade to black along with the rest of his vision. Only for a moment. It came back as white, and he squinted, grimacing at the overload of light streaming into his eyes. He felt dizzy. He felt like he was swimming. He felt something cold and hard press up against his back. His vision was restored, and he saw he was looking at the sky._ Did...did I fall? I don’t remember that._ His sight of the sky was interrupted by Squirtle’s face. When did she get there? Her mouth was open, and a sudden loudness forced itself into his ears. It hurt. He squinted his eyes shut and grimaced. After about two seconds he recognized it as Squirtle’s voice, but it seemed off. Like it was coming in through several sheets of fabric. The noise got a lot quieter suddenly, but Coran still couldn’t understand what she was saying. He couldn’t remember closing his eyes. Or were they open…? _I don’t want to sleep now… _Shapes blotted out what little vision he could make of Squirtle’s terrified face, until

Squirtle looked down at the lava, taking a deep breath. A shiver coursed through her body at the same time as a fresh blast of frigid wind. She considered herself very lucky that she was in the possession of such a luxurious thick coat. It was really the only thing keeping her teeth from chattering as a result of the absolutely freezing atmosphere-

Thump.

On instinct, Squirtle bared her teeth and leaped around to her six, ready to face whatever was about to attack her. But there was nobody there.

Except for Coran.

He was lying on the ground, curled up into a ball. He was trembling so hard that Squirtle could see it from this far away. His head was turned towards the sky, a faraway look in his eyes. A hard rock of dread settled into Squirtle’s gut as she ran over to him. This close, she was able to see that there was a definite glazed look in his eyes. He was in very bad shape.

“Coran! Are you alright?” she said, gently patting the side of his head. He didn’t give any sign that he’d even felt the paw, but his face scrunched up as she had started talking.

She lowered her voice. “Coran, answer me. Are you able to answer me? Are you feeling alright?”

Squirtle was scared. More than scared, she was terrified. She could lose Coran here and now. She’d fired people before. She’d had people quit. She’d had a mutual agreement of severance. But she had never had someone die on her before. She quickly began to dig through her bag, looking for something that she could use to rescusitate him.

His breathing was slowing. The clouds of vapor from his mouth were getting smaller and smaller.

“No...no no no no no…” she whispered, looking back at him. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes. She couldn’t let him freeze!

“Coran!” she said, beginning to shake him. “Coran, listen to me!! Wake up! You can’t fall asleep now! Wake up-”

Her vision exploded into sparks, and she gave a cry of pain as something smashed into the back of her skull. She crumpled to the frozen floor, unconscious.

He knocked on the door, his tail tucked between his legs. He looked down at it and frowned despite the atmosphere. It hadn’t been a conscious action. He’d simply-

“Come in, Coran.”

Oh. He was letting himself in. Not good. He pushed the door open and saw Squirtle sitting behind a very official-looking desk. It was stacked high with piles of papers, and Coran imagined that pretty much all of them had to do with him and his recent...spree.

There was no seat for him, so he simply stood at the other side of the desk, looking at her. She was going through a few papers on the desk, but eventually she closed her eyes and let out a long sigh.

“...Coran,” she said slowly. “First off, I want to congratulate you on your first completed mission. You did manage to get the pendant back to Yamask, and that was the outline of the mission.”

Coran knew this wasn’t the end of the discussion, and he nodded solemnly. “Thank you,” was all he said.

“...But I’m sure you know as well as I do that there was a problem with what means you used to get the end you wanted.”

A surge of emotion burst out of Coran’s gut and settled itself in his throat in a lump. It was getting hard to breathe. “I-I know,” he squeaked.

“...Then would you mind telling me what you think I might have an issue with?” Squirtle looked up at him for the first time in the conversation. It wasn’t a comforting look. She was analytical, her gaze cold and calculating.

Coran squinted his eyes shut, his fists clenched and trembling - much like they had been back in Sorrowing Meadows. But this time he wasn’t angry. He wasn’t angry at all. It wasn’t an energetic feeling, fuelled by passion and indignation. This feeling was quite the opposite.

He felt cold.

His heart was heavy, and his eyelids were wet with the hints of tears. His fists, while clenched tightly, felt like weights bringing his shoulders further down than they were supposed to. His head was hung, staring at the ground, his mouth in an open grimace.

“...Coran?” Squirtle prompted. She leaned forward, and if Coran were to look, he’d see a different face than the one of stone only a few seconds earlier.

“...I was a terrible person,” he said, his voice quivering with emotion. The rock in his throat grew bigger in size, causing him pain each time he tried to speak. But he couldn’t keep quiet, and the words began to flow. “...I nearly killed someone. I-I nearly killed a lot of people, o-over a stupid amulet...I lost control of myself, I...I don’t even know what I was doing. It j-just...they got to me, even though th-they shouldn’t have, a-and I was j-just a terrible terrible person...I-I wouldn’t blame you i-if you turned me in to the police and h-had me executed...I...I’m a murderer! I could have hurt you! I-I don’t even know if I could snap right now, and...and do something bad, but-”

That thought sapped all of the energy from Coran’s legs. The notion that this irrepressible feeling of guilt could overtake him as intensely as that of anger and cause him to destroy even more lives was more than he could take. His legs shook beneath him, and he fell to the ground, grasping at his head with his paws. The tears began flowing now, yet they were slow and hot, and they hurt coming out.

“...I-I don’t want to hurt you…” he whimpered.

Squirtle, for her part, felt helpless. When she had seen Coran clench his fists, her heart had jumped in fear, in the prospect that he could exact rage upon her. She had been ready to bolt. But once he had started talking, Squirtle recognized a different emotion entirely. Coran was wracked with guilt. He was truly sorry for what he’d done. _Though this is sort of over the top.   _

“Coran.” Squirtle got down from the chair and circled the desk to stand beside him. “...I…” She took a deep breath.

Here we go, Squirtle. Moment of truth.

“I’m not going to fire you.”

Coran looked up at her with an expression of shock. “But...but I almost-”

“But you didn’t,” Squirtle interrupted. “And yes, while the fact that you almost did is…” she paused. “...nothing short of terrifying, I think that it’d be worth it for me to at least give you a third chance. Plus…” She gave him a small smile. “I could totally beat you into the ground if I wanted to. You’ve been a Pokemon for two days. I’ve been one for sixteen years.”

Coran stayed there for a few moments. It was obvious to Squirtle that he was trying to take in exactly what he’d been told. But he slowly got to his feet and bowed his head.

“...Thank you. I’ll do my best from here on out.”

“Yeah, uh, about that,” Squirtle got up on her hind legs, taking a paper off of the desk. “There are a few things that I think you should improve on specifically. The anger and emotions are at the top of the list, but…there’s a couple of things about your battle style, exploration tactics, and pretty much everything a Pokémon above the age of three knows that we should probably run over. Don’t worry, though,” she said, patting his back. “I’ll make a comprehensive course while you’re out there doing your first solo job.”

The sand was soft and yellow beneath Coran’s paws. A warm feeling came up from the terrain, sending a soothing feeling coursing up his spine and along his body. He remembered this feeling from somewhere.

Shaking that thought from his head, he looked down at the job sheet he had in his paws.

Listen to me!

Rank: E Place: 2202, Dusky Beach Cape

Hello! My name is Ampharos, and I am an old lady who simply wishes to chat with someone willing to listen. I live in the large villa on the south cape of Dusky Beach, and I'm all by myself. Thus, I get very lonely sometimes, and I need someone to talk to. That's it! No fighting baddies, or fetching items. I just need someone with good ears. Please come quickly, because the tea's getting cold!

Reward: A nice chat + hot tea (if you come quickly! Otherwise it will be cold~)

It hadn’t taken very long to find this job. If it could be called that, Coran noted. It had a mark signaling that it was delivered by post. Squirtle had spotted it quickly and declared that it would be a good cool-down job after the Sorrowing Meadows incident. Coran wanted to say that she was being patronizing, but at this point, he didn’t really have much of a reason to say no to the Pokémon he owed his life to. Plus tea and a chat sounded pretty good right about now.

Squirtle had given Coran very comprehensive directions to Dusky Beach Cape, though she insisted on calling it Sunset Beach. He was hoping that this little discrepancy wouldn’t misdirect him as he walked slowly along the beach to the cape, where Ampharos’s villa supposedly resided. He was rather pleased to see that her words in the job form had rung true - there wasn’t a single hostile Pokémon as far as he could tell. The beach was far from empty, but the patrons there weren’t attacking anyone, or yelling, or stealing pendants from whiny ghosts. They were enjoying the sunset. The...eternal sunset.

Squirtle had told him - rather excitedly, Coran thought - about a local legend concerning something called a Time Gear. These strange devices apparently helped keep time flowing regularly, and one used to be kept in an underwater grotto right beneath Dusky Beach. Apparently, though, someone had stolen the gear and caused time to stop completely in the area. Squirtle had told him that it was restored eventually, but through some means of a glitch, the time in Dusky Beach was always at the pinnacle of a sunset. Coran had doubted her at first, but it was a sight to behold as he traveled along the path to the beach. Each step seemed to jerk the sun further down towards the horizon as if it were dangled on a string until he felt sand beneath him and the sun kissed the horizon tenderly.

And what a setting sun it was. The water was glittering and shining, the fading sunbeams dancing and playing on the surface, turning the ocean a bright orange hue. The light breeze rippled the water ever so slightly, so the sun looked like it was but a mirage from the middle down. Everything around Coran had a vermillion hue, casting long, graceful shadows among the blades of grass and grains of sand. The sky was dyed a bright pink, turning a faint purple the farther it got from the blazing light. Looking back, Coran could almost see stars in the distance. There were but a few clouds and each was tinted a dusky pink from the setting sun, looking more like cotton candy than water vapor. Coran drank it all in, along with everyone else around him.

Before he could get too caught up in the view, however, the thought suddenly returned to Coran that he had a ‘job’ to do, and Ampharos was waiting for him. He quickened his saunter to a jog, and before long he perceived a large house rising up upon a cliff from the sea. About five minutes later, he was standing at the front door. It was beautifully carved out of what looked like some redwood tree. It was also a very large door. Ampharos...was she as tall as this?

Coran took his fist and rapped on the door. He heard an exclamation from the other side, followed by footsteps that grew louder. His breath hitched as the door opened, and he was faced with...a white surface. He blinked and looked up to see a large yellow and black Pokémon towering over him.

“...Oh, yes! Hello!” she said cheerfully. “Are you here for the request I sent?” Her eyes drifted to the letter Coran clutched in his paw as she said this.

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. My name is Coran. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He bowed at the waist, his hands folded in front of him.

Ampharos clapped her flippers together and laughed. “Oh, do _get up, Coran, dear! You don’t need to be so _formal! I can’t very well pour my heart out to someone with a stick up their back! Please, come in, come in!” She stepped aside and gestured for him to walk in. He obliged, a bit intimidated by the Pokémon over twice his size.

The inside of the villa was stunning. The paint on the walls, the large soaring windows, each piece of furniture seemed to orchestrate itself perfectly to the setting sun poised just outside of the polished glass.

“Come, come, sit!” Ampharos’s voice rang out from the other side of the room. “I’m just getting the tea prepared, it will only be a moment.”

Coran walked to the other side of the room at a slow pace, taking in everything. On the left wall, opposite the windows, he saw a parade of photo frames consisting of what looked like two Pokémon through time. They seemed to be the same two Pokémon through all of the photographs - one of them was Ampharos, he was sure. Though she wasn’t Ampharos back then. She was a Mareep in the one closest to the door, posing next to what Coran believed was a Helioptile. The photos went on through the wall as if they were passing time themselves, showing the two of them growing together until he recognized the yellow figure of the Ampharos that had let him into the house just a few moments earlier.

The last picture was of the Ampharos, her arm outstretched as she took the picture. Squished into the frame was a Heliolisk - probably the other Pokémon from the earlier pictures - wearing what looked like a sailor’s hat. In the background was the villa he stood in now. It had not a speck of dust on it, and the frame was both spotless and without flaws of any kind. Something else Coran noted was that she looked a lot younger in this photo than she did in real life.

Realizing suddenly that he might be delving into her private life, Coran quickly made his way to the other side of the room and sat himself down on one of the chairs. The sound of Ampharos humming a tune from the kitchen could be heard, though he couldn’t see her.

“I’m almost done, Coran, don’t you worry! I hope you like orange pekoe tea, though. It’s all I have left at the moment.”

“Thank you, Miss...um…Ampharos.”

“Oh.” He heard her set down a glass, and she appeared in the doorway wearing an apologetic expression. “Oh, I’m such an airhead. Here I am calling you by your name left and right and I haven’t even told you mine!” She let out a laugh and set down the tea. “My name is Phari. It means ‘lighthouse’,” she said as she poured a brown tea from the pot, and handed Coran a cup. “Quite appropriate for someone like me, hm? My parents were smart cookies.”

Coran raised the cup to his lips and took a sip. It tasted...plantlike. Not an amazing taste, but he did appreciate the warm feeling in his chest that it gave him. He took another sip. “Thank you very much.”

She gave him an equally warm smile as she sat down herself. “You’re very welcome, Coran! It’s my and...well, it’s my favourite kind of tea. I’m somewhat surprised that it’s the last I have left. You’d think I’d burn through it as fast as I’d burn through a plate of freshly baked brownies.”

He gave a small laugh but didn’t say much else. He was afraid that the situation might become awkward. All she wanted was someone to talk with, and he was worried he wouldn’t be able to support his end of the deal. He had to come up with something quick! “Um...i-it’s...it’s a very nice house you have here. Nice...um...location.” He winced at his stilted words. If it wasn’t awkward before, it certainly would be now.

“Yes, it certainly is beautiful,” Phari sighed, looking out at the sea with a wistful look. “My Cappy made it for me. He was the one who scouted the spot too. It was a wonder it wasn’t already taken, don’t you think?”

Coran turned and stared out the window. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “...It’s really nice. I wouldn’t mind living here.”

“This is the most beautiful time of day,” she said, turning to look at Coran. “Or I think so, anywho. Cappy knew that he did. He found this place for me. He’s...so good to me.” She sighed, and took a sip of her tea. “Imagine. Out of all the places we could build a life together, he found a place with a perpetual setting sun.”

She’d mentioned this ‘Cappy’ a few times now, and it was beginning to pick at Coran’s brain. “Um...I’m sorry if you don’t want me asking this, but who’s Cappy?”

“Ah, yes, I’m sorry,” she said, chuckling. “Who am I to think that you already know everything about me?” She shook her head. “You must have noticed those picture frames over there, when you first walk in, yes? Cappy is the other Pokémon in most of them. We met when we were both quite young. We were only friends then,” she said, taking a sip of her tea. “...His buddies made quite a big deal out of him getting with me, let me tell you.” She gave Coran a smug smile. “The friend zone isn’t all-powerful, I suppose.

“I was a singer back then,” she continued. “He was just another face in the crowd...we met at a small concert. We made eye contact during a performance, and I fell in love.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Later...I met him. Let him go backstage with me...I curled my tail around his waist, and we went into my dressing room. I was sure to lock the door, and-” She paused to look over at Coran.

His eyes were as round as the sun, and his cheeks just as red.

Phari burst into laughter and doubled over. “Oh, I’m kidding, Coran! Wipe that look off your face! I’m not _that _kind of girl, believe you me!” She wiped a tear from her eye and gave him a smug smile. “Honestly, once that context comes into play, you wouldn’t believe how many people take in every word you say.”

“I...uh, I-I can imagine,” Coran said, giving a short laugh. “That was pretty impressive.”

“The concert was a simple talent show. He liked my singing. I liked...well...I liked how he looked if I’m to be honest. But I’m getting away from myself. After many more events that took place - it’d take much too long for me to delve into each one of them - we became an item. We went steady, roamed for a while, trying to find a way to settle down...and as luck would have it, my Cappy found Dusky Beach Cape.

“He built this place, Coran,” she said, looking around her house in appreciation. “Terrible at singing, he was. But a wonderful architect. He and his friends had this done in a matter of months. I picked out the colours of course. We wanted to start a family here, but…” she sighed, and looked down at her belly. “It wasn’t meant to be. But Cappy didn’t let it get to him. And he refused to let it get to me either, bless his heart.”

As time went on, Coran was starting to feel more at ease around her. She had turned out to be much easier to talk to than he had originally thought. But all this talk about Cappy was making him mildly curious. Why had he not seen him around? Was he out shopping? Doing a job? “Where is Cappy now?”

Phari’s expression froze for a moment, as if the question had caught her off guard. Her mouth closed, and she pressed her lips for a few moments before speaking. “He’s out,” she said. “He went on an adventure with some of his friends a while ago. He couldn’t tell me when he’d be back - you know how voyages can be, don’t you? - but I made him swear up and down that he’d come back to me. He will be, too.” She looked out the window, resting her head in her hand. “...Any day now…I’ll see his little boat on the horizon, coming back to our little dock…” she whispered wistfully.

As suddenly as if an electric jolt had worked its way down her spine, Phari sat straight up, and looked over at Coran with an apologetic smile. “Oh, goodness, would you listen to me rambling on? I don’t even know anything about my own guest past his name!” She gave a laugh. “How rude of me...what kind of Pokémon are you, Coran?”

Coran flinched at the wording. Pokémon. She’d called him a Pokémon. He was a human, not a Pokémon! Right? But he couldn’t just up and tell her that. She’d have a heart attack! Or the more likely scenario, she’d think he was lying and ask for the truth. No, that was definitely out of the question.

Now, most readers will admit that they have lied at some point in their lives. And whether someone is a talented liar or not, most will say that it’s a good plan to have something prepared when you’re going to lie to someone. Lying by the seat of your pants is never a good option.

Unfortunately it was the only option Coran had.

“I was, um…” Coran thought about this. He might as well just keep it as vague as possible. Maybe she’d take it as him not really feeling comfortable talking about himself, and leave it at that? “I was born to a single parent. My dad left a bit after that...I was raised by my mom until I left the house, and...that was sort of a disaster. Until I met Squirtle. I’ve been working with her since.”

“...I hope I’m not prying,” Phari said quietly, looking as if she wanted to lay a hand on Coran’s leg. She thought better of it, though, and smiled softly. “It’s getting late. I’d recommend you get back before this friend of yours berates you for taking too long to talk to a lonely lady like me.”

Coran frowned and looked outside. The sun hadn’t moved. Duh. “Wait, how long have I been here? All afternoon?”

"Yes! Judging from the time you got here, you must have left just before sunhigh. It's night now."

Coran looked out the window at the sun incredulously. "How can you tell?"

"I can read the language of the sun. Its flares, even though it seems stuck there forever, tell me where it actually is in the sky."

"Really?!" Coran gaped. "That's amazing!"

"Sometimes, if I listen close enough, I can hear it speaking to me. It's telling me to destroy all the toothbrushes." Phari gave Coran a wry smile.

Coran simply gave a chuckle and shook his head. He got up to the kitchen to wash the teacup.

Phari suddenly stood up. “Oh, no no no, don’t worry about that,” she said, walking briskly to his side and taking the teacup from him. “You need to get back. I’ll wash the dishes. It’s the least I can do for you to listen to me ramble on like this.”

Coran looked up at her and bowed. “Thank you, Phari.”

"Coran! What have I told you about being so formal?" Phari placed her hands on her hips, smirking. "Off you go. I don't want to see you in a mess because of me."

“Alright,” he conceded, beginning to walk to the door. “...Maybe we could do this again sometime. It was a nice way to unwind.”

“Oh, absolutely,” she said with a wide smile and a nod. “You’re a very good listener, Coran.”

“All I have to do is not talk, right?” he gave a chuckle. “Have a nice evening, Phari.”

“You too, dear,” she said, turning to walk to the kitchen. But she stopped. “Oh, and Coran?”

He turned around one more time. "Yes, Phari?"

"...Thank you. I needed this."

Somehow he knew that. “...Anytime.”

And Coran was out the door, leaving Phari with only her pictures and her memories to keep her company. Slowly, she walked back into the kitchen and began to wash the dishes.

“Oh, the prodigal son is back!” Squirtle exclaimed once Coran came through the door. “Rejoice! Let us celebrate!”

Coran blinked, and his heart sunk. Oh, man, he _did _mess up. She was going to chew him out, he _knew _it…

Squirtle tilted her head. “Hey, lighten up, it was a joke,” she said flatly. “I already did the scolding for today.”

He looked up at her and gave a short nod. “Right. Sorry.”

“Why were you late, anyways?” Squirtle asked, walking closer. “I thought it was just going to be a simple chat. I managed to complete two missions in the time you were gone.”

He winced. “Sorry,” he said again. “We did just talk. I guess time just got away from us...I didn’t just want to leave her high and dry, y’know…? I didn’t notice time was passing.”

Squirtle nodded. “You were in Sunset Beach, I can excuse that. And stop looking so guilty. This was a break from Sorrowing Meadows, remember?”

Coran took a deep breath and raked a paw over his head. “Right. I’m just sort of...scared for my job now.”

Squirtle sat down beside Coran and looked up at him. “I’m not giving up on you. Whether or not I believe you’re a human, I know that you _don’t _know a lot of things that you should know. But I’m convinced that you can still be a valuable asset to this team. I’m not giving up on you.”

Coran took a deep breath, and let it out. “...I’ve never had a boss before. Or a job.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of obvious, isn’t it?” she nudged him a bit. “You’re an amnesiac.”

He gave a short chuckle. “...Yeah, good point. I’m just not used to this sort of...relationship, y’know?”

Squirtle gave a nod. “Well, I can’t say that I can expect you to be. Just relax. In a job like this, it’s important we feel comfortable around each other, otherwise we could fail when we’re working together on the field.”

Coran gulped and looked away. Squirtle sighed. She’d mentioned failing. Was he in a tizzy about that now?

“She called me a Pokémon today. Phari. The Ampharos I met.”

“Okay...and why is that bad?” Squirtle asked.

He was silent for a moment. “...It’s nothing. I think I’m going to go to bed.”

"Alright. Goodnight, Coran."

Squirtle didn’t move after Coran had gotten up to walk to his bed. She stayed there thinking. She had to break Coran into this easy. Maybe she was being too hard on the kid. He was putting himself out there pretty hard.

Squirtle sighed. This whole boss thing was harder than she expected it to be. And she expected it to be hard. But she couldn't have Coran be afraid of her. It was bad for business.

And she didn’t want him to be scared of her.

She’d have to think about how to do this. How to act more friendly towards him while still maintaining an air of being his superior. It was going to be a challenge, but she believed she could do it.

Link to Chapter 6

Squirtle heaved a sigh as she looked over the form. She’d made this report a necessity after a certain incident in the past, to make sure that her relationship with any future partners would be safe and profitable. Like she had noted before, Coran was incredibly dedicated to the job he’d been assigned. His diligence was something Squirtle had rarely seen in any of her partners previous.

That being said...she couldn’t get those red rage-filled eyes out of her mind. The sight of him laying waste to an entire murder of Murkrow in a blind flurry of indignation was something Squirtle could easily imagine herself on the receiving end of. And this justifiably disturbed her.

But he could be so useful… Squirtle lamented. He failed the Sanity Test. Coran failed the Sanity Test. Nobody is supposed to fail the Sanity Test, it’s just a formality!

With a long, drawn out sigh, Squirtle did something that she had never needed to do before. She compared cases.

Squirtle smiled brightly at the little Dunsparce looking up at her nervously. She felt like it would be a good idea to comfort the little guy - he seemed very nervous, and it was all she could do to calm him down. Plus having a bundle of fear wouldn’t be much help on Mount Maelstrom!

“Don’t worry about it too much, Benny,” she said comfortingly. “I’ve given us a super easy mission to complete for your test, and I’ll be with you the whole time. There’s no need to worry. Pass this, and we’ll be partners.”

The Dunsparce gave a gulp and a tentative nod, directing his attention down at the paper lying in front of him.

Take 'em down!

Place: Mt. Maelstrom

I'm Bisharp. I consider m'self a sort of head of justice around here. And there's a grave injustice that I have recently witnessed. There have been reports of Pokémon goin' round, 'bumping' into others' and pickin' their Poké! It's a pretty small gang, about three or four Pokémon or so. They seem like cowards, so they'll probably run soon as look at ya. Chase 'em down, and get the stolen Poké back! Their hideout seems to be near the base of Mt. Maelstrom. I'd go m'self, but I've gots ta protect the others back in Nuzlocke. Get the leader, 'cause I think the others can't function without 'im.

Reward: Reviver Seed + Lucky Amulet + 2000 Poké

"I think I know what to do," Benny said slowly, "I just need to concentrate, right?"

Squirtle bit her lip. No, Benny, this has quite a bit more to it than just concentrating. But she couldn’t say that. “Well...just stick with me,” she said. “I’ll give you the ropes as we go. How does that sound?”

Benny simply nodded, looking absolutely terrified. Of course, he did.

“Remember, when we see them, we have to go after them fast, because they’ll run. Alright?

Benny gulped. “I-I’ll do my best...um…”

Squirtle patted his head. “That’s the most anyone can ask for, Benny.”

She looked up at Mt. Maelstrom and took a deep breath. She knew that this was an easy mission, but the environment itself was pretty intimidating. The grey slate towered over them, casting a dark shadow over the two small Pokémon. Near the spire, storm clouds orbited the tip like a metal ring bristling with static electricity. There was a clear path etched into the mountainside by brave rangers hoping to make it more accessible, but for the most part, the entire mountain could be looked at by anyone and be declared insurmountable. Squirtle counted herself lucky that she didn’t have to go to the top.

“Alright. Let’s not get cold feet, and move,” Squirtle said, hiking her bag up on her back and smiling. “We can do this!”

Benny once again nodded and began clumsily hopping after her. Squirtle frowned slightly as she noticed this impaired method of movement, thinking that it’d be hard to catch runaways if he was going to move like that. But that wasn’t the point of the job. She just had to observe how he’d take conflicts, and hope that he did well. That’s all.

The very base of the mountain was rough terrain all on its own. The path was narrow, and there was a steep incline that led to the ground below. Squirtle had been here only once or twice before, so she wasn’t entirely familiar with the layout. She looked at the rough map Bisharp had attached to the letter and turned it around in confusion. He might have been a good ‘head of justice’ but his cartography definitely needed work. She could barely differentiate one cliff from the other.

In an instant, she remembered that she was not alone. Abruptly turning around, she saw that Benny was looking up the mountain face with a quivering stance.

“Are you okay, Benny?” she asked.

Jumping as if he were jabbed by a red-hot poker, he gave a scream and stared at her with eyes round as moons. “I-I, uh...y-yeah! Holding up fine! W-woohoo, this is fun…”

“Hey,” Squirtle said in a maternal tone. “Don’t worry. The outlaws are going to be weak. All we have to do is catch them. It’ll be easy.”

"Okay. Got it. Alright. Okay." Benny was shaking. Though whether it was from anticipation or fear, Squirtle couldn't tell.

About two hours passed. Squirtle and Dunsparce were both keeping an eye out for the base, but the environments were beginning to become so familiar Squirtle was confident that she’d be more able to navigate by memory than by the map Bisharp had given her. _Except only the map has the base location, _she noted wryly.

"Where is it? The base, where is it, the base?" Benny whispered to himself.

Uh oh. He was mumbling to himself. “Are you alright, Benny? You want to take a break?”

"No. I'm angry. Why can't we just find their stupid base?" Benny growled.

Squirtle took a moment to think about this. “Um...maybe because...it’s a secret base, I guess,” she said. “It wouldn’t be super obvious to find, I think.”

“Don’t baby talk to me! Don’t do that!” Benny snapped.

Squirtle was taken aback and actually stopped walking for a few moments. That was incredibly uncalled for, and also incredibly out of the blue. An alarm began ringing in the back of Squirtle’s head, but she shrugged it off. He’s only nervous, she thought. It’s just nerves, nothing to worry about. Everything is fine!

Squirtle noted that she hadn’t seen a single Pokémon here if she didn’t count herself and Benny. It was strange. Usually, in places like this, there were at the very least fellow hikers. Maybe a renegade or two. But this mountain was completely deserted. This was why it was all the more obvious to her when she noticed a Meowth slinking around a corner further ahead. She looked back to see if Benny had noticed it too.

"Hey!!” Benny screamed, his voice cracking. "You! Come here! Come here now!"

Well, he noticed it.

The Meowth froze for but a moment, then instantly bolted around the corner. With a roar of rage, Benny began to give chase, bounding forward with speed Squirtle didn’t think possible. Once again, she was completely shocked. He had no reason to be as angry as this. They’d only spent about two hours and fifteen minutes there, and that wasn’t long at all compared to an average mission. Benny was chasing after this singular Meowth with such drive and passion that there were oval-shaped indents where he collided with the ground. Her worries about him being too slow were dashed upon further investigation, as she saw Benny was having no trouble whatsoever with keeping up with the Meowth. Squirtle and Benny rounded another corner, the latter giving a primal cry of fury.

This was quickly transformed into a whimper for mercy.

There to greet them was a Meowth, smiling smugly with her arms crossed. But behind her was a slew of Pokemon, numbers totalling around the high twenties. None of them looked pleased, and all of them looked poised to fight.

“Monster House,” Squirtle whispered, staggering back.

“Raargh!” Benny gave a feeble attempt to intimidate them. Nobody moved. “Why aren’t they running…?” he hissed. “You said they’d run!”

The Meowth heard this and smirked. She took slow calculated steps up to the quivering Dunsparce, unsheathing a claw. She traced it down the side of his face in an intimate gesture.

“Your move,” she whispered.

Benny slowly turned to Squirtle, a look of crazed terror in his eyes.

And then he tried to maul her face off.

Squirtle let out a shriek of terror as she got a snapshot of Benny leaping towards her before she toppled over from the force. She felt his jaws settle on her left ear and let out a cry of pain. As if a starting line gunshot sounded, the Monster House advanced towards them.

“Get me out of here!” Benny screamed, chomping down on top of Squirtle’s head. “Get me out out of here out out!!”

Squirtle staggered to her feet, a difficult task with the added weight of Benny making her topheavy. But she managed to, and began to run.

"Let go of me!!” Squirtle yelled, feeling him dig into her fur even more.

"Git me oot of hrr!"

"I'm trying!" she hissed, before giving another yelp of pain as she felt his tail spike drive its way into her flank.

The base of Mount Maelstrom couldn’t come fast enough.

"What was THAT!?" Squirtle cried, gingerly applying a few bandages to the side of her head, glaring down at Benny.

He was currently curled up in a ball at the base of the HQ, mumbling to himself. “Get me out of here...out of here...I want out, I want out of here, get me out...of…”

“You’re already out,” Squirtle seethed, bringing her face as close to his as she could bear. “What was with all that biting, huh? Did you think it was funny or something?!”

"Get me out of here...get me out of here..."

"You. Are. OUT ALREADY." Squirtle hissed. "...You know what? No. I can’t deal with you anymore. Get out. Don’t bother coming back.”

"Get me out of here-"

"LEAVE.”

Squirtle gave a long drawn out sigh. It was never easy revisiting that memory, and yet she was always reminded of the incident each time she recruited someone new. Smart Pokémon learn from mistakes, right? And recruiting that nutcase was one of the biggest mistakes of her life, so she learned a lot from it.

But had she really? She was honestly considering hiring Coran, a Riolu that not only believed that he was not a Pokémon at all, but also displayed a severe lack of self-control and violent tendencies. But something told her that he’d be incredibly useful. Something beyond the fact that he was a Fighting-type. Something beyond the fact that he had somehow gotten out of a murder gang-up with average scrapes and extreme fatigue.

There’s something about him. I just can’t describe it.

She slowly opened the door of her office, and crept forwards, slowly parting the curtain separating the main room from the guest room. Coran was fast asleep, sprawled out over the mattress. He looked so peaceful. He was snoring softly, his mouth hanging open with his paws draped over the edge of the mattress.

Squirtle regarded him for a few more moments and sighed. She couldn’t let him go in good conscience, either. Whether he was human or Pokémon, she did believe him about not remembering anything. The kid didn’t have a home to go back to, and it would weigh heavy on her heart if she sent him out into the street.

The kid didn’t deserve that.

But she didn’t want another Maelstrom incident. It’d be too painful for her to bear.

She took a deep breath and closed the door to her office.

Link to Chapter 5

The Sorrowing Meadows were dark now, the purple grass turning a dark grey as moonbeams fought their way through the wiry branches choking out the light. It was as if the moon itself were a lamp, and someone had draped a dark curtain over it so that only a slight glow could struggle along the night air towards the ground. This meant that the shadows had the advantage, Coran noted sourly. If things were getting darker, it would get harder for him to distinguish them from the ordinary shadows. But as he went, Coran began to experience something strange. He was starting to figure out exactly how he’d be able to find the pendant.

He could smell it.

The scent was metallic, almost harsh. Behind it was another smell that didn’t quite make sense - a curdling sour odour. It wasn’t very pleasant, Coran noted, but he quickly dismissed both tracks when he realised he was smelling a pendant.

How am I doing this? He asked himself. Is this a Pokemon thing? Could I always do this? I wonder if Squirtle would be able to do this too-

Squirtle.

With an impact akin to a brick smashing into the side of a cement wall, Coran realised that she was still missing. He was still missing, he noted. “Squirtle! Are you still here? Hellooo?” But he couldn’t listen for her, not with all of this background noise around. The wind shifting the bare branches, the bushes, the stray leaves skittering along what little stones they could find along the choked path; the howling of distant predators, looking for an unfortunate meal to pounce upon in the darkness; a remote brook, an oddly relaxing sound juxtaposing every other sense that was forcing itself into Coran’s brain. It was too much. He would never be able to hear Squirtle over all this racket. He huffed and decided to leave it for later, remembering the mantra she’d given him earlier - the client comes first.

“The client comes first,” he mumbled to himself. “The client comes first. The client comes first.” Closing his eyes, he tried to convince himself that following the sickly metallic scent of the pendant through a terrifying forsaken forest in the dead of night was a good idea.

Coran, finally, was rewarded with the sight of bricks reappearing on the stone path. His heart soared as he realised he may be able to get out of this alive. The rock dotted the trail more and more commonly, before taking over most of the road completely, only allowing certain strands of weeds to spring through the cracks between them. The crunch of leaves beneath his paws turned into the rhythmic thump of stone. And still, Coran kept his head down and followed the scent until he was forced to the ground by a sudden incline, feeling his snout collide with the ground. Giving a light yelp of pain, he grimaced and put a paw to his muzzle, taking it away and scrutinising it to assess the damage. A small spot of his paw was stained red. Clutching his fist, he reasoned with himself that it wasn’t that bad. He’d take care of it when he got the pendant. The client comes first...the client comes first...

But his mantra was interrupted when he looked up and saw two massive wooden doors looming over him, embedded with iron rings. These rings, presumably used to open the door, were almost out of Coran’s reach. He had to strain to wrap a paw around them and pull, grunting from the effort it took to pull the doors open. A cold, musty blast of air rushed past him, blowing his fur out of place. He grimaced and put his paws up to protect as much of the hair on top of his head as he could. After the draft had passed, he ran his paw across the top of his head a couple of times to smooth out the fur before shaking himself off and carefully stepping into the foreboding building.

The interior of the steeple was dark, the atmosphere oppressive and foreboding. The effect upon Coran was near instant, and a sick apprehension settled itself in his belly the moment his paw touched the cold wood. The only light came from the quiet of the moon, filtered through the stained glass windows. The patterns, he admitted, were quite beautiful - but he found them somewhat familiar, too. The creatures they depicted were somewhat unfamiliar. But the way they were arranged - broken glass pieces coloured in certain ways - it stirred an emotional response in him. And he couldn’t quite figure out why.

Before he could ponder on it much further, his ears detected hushed speech coming from a doorway deeper in the church.

"...so valuable..."

"No!...n't sell..."

"...e'll keep it..."

"...out that Ri..u...?"

"It's not his, it's ours!"

"Shh!"

His heart began to race faster than before, and he placed a paw on his chest to try and calm himself. Whoever those figures were, they were here. They were talking about the pendant, he was sure of it. And he had to get it back. But what was he able to do to them? Suppose they were incorporeal and terrifying and able to turn him into solid ice with a single glance?!

The client comes first. The client comes first. The client comes first.

He took a few deep breaths, concentrating on this mantra to try and help him. He could do this. He was sure he could. Squirtle had faith in him, after all, and that meant that he could do it.

Or she was trying to kill him.

Shaking those thoughts out of his head, he dashed towards the door. The voices were louder, but Coran no longer paid attention to what they were saying. He opened the door...

...and saw a group of small, strange, black birds sitting around a table, all staring at him.

"Aah! It's the Riolu!"

"What do we do?"

"Hide the shiny!"

"It's a pendant, you dolt, not a ‘shiny’! We're not cave-mon, for crying out loud!"

"It's his pendant..."

"No! It's ours now!"

“What do we do?!”

“Maybe he doesn’t know we have the shiny…”

“Pen. Dant.”

“Well, he knows we have it now_!_ I say we kill him!”

“We’re not cave-mon!”

Coran was getting fed up after just a few simple moments of listening to them bicker. "Hey! Listen to me!" He yelled.

The Pokemon he recognised as Murkrow shut up. Coran took a few deep breaths. He had, to be honest, this was not what he was expecting when he stepped into the back of the church. Not that he was complaining. But this group was giving him a throbbing headache, and he’d barely been here thirty seconds.

"Look. That pendant is important to me, my partner, and someone else we're getting it for. And I need it back." He decided that reasoning with them would probably be a good idea to start out. There was no need to resort to violence if the situation didn’t call for it.

"Should we give it to him?"

"No! Kill him! It's mine!"

"It's ours..."

"No, it's not, it's his."

"We found it first!"

"...in his paw."

“Doesn’t matter! We found it! Losers weepers!”

“Finders keepers!”

“He said it’s important...maybe it’s cursed?”

“It’s shiny! So shiny! Losers weepers!”

“Losers weepers!”

Coran started to become concerned. It seemed they weren't going to let it go that quickly. "If you don't give it to me now..." He struck what he supposed was a fighting stance. "I'll battle you for it."

"Eek!"

"We're Dark! He's Fighting! We'll get demolished!"

"But it's so shiny!"

"Pretty pretty!"

"No! There's a disadvantage!"

"Compromise! Compromise!"

"Compromise! Compromise!"

Coran’s headache was getting worse. He gave them a glare. Shaking his head a little, Coran wondered how much longer he’d be able to put up with their shrill grating voices. He supposed perhaps another fifty-three seconds.

"Fine. We'll give it back if you find us another shiny."

"Another shiny thing. We are not cave-mon!"

"Yes, yes. But it must be as shiny!"

"Or shinier!"

"Shinier!"

"Yes, shinier!"

The Murkrow were really starting to take a toll on Coran. He was getting sick of these Pokémon. Come to think of it, he was getting sick of these meadows. He shook his head. "I want to get out of this stupid place as soon as possible. I'm sorry, but I'm going to fight you to get that back."

"No!"

"No!"

"Run away!"

"No!"

"Run away!"

Coran’s heart nearly stopped. But before he could even think to himself that they had better not follow up on what they were saying, they followed up with what they were saying. With a smash of a nearby window, the Murkrow fled into the night of the forest, screaming about the savage Riolu coming to kill them. And they still had the pendant.

Coran stood in the lit room, absolutely stunned. The shock quickly turned into frustration, however, and he unclenched and clenched his fists, gritting his teeth together. “Client comes first...Client comes first…” he growled, his eye twitching the slightest bit. He climbed through the window carefully, wondering whether this stupid mission was really worth the 1000 Poké.

Squirtle, meanwhile, had finally made it to the other side of the Sorrowing Meadows, the bright sickle moon shining gracefully down on her as she wiped a stray bit of dew from her paws. Letting out a breath of air, she began to speak. “There, see, we didn’t even encounter a single feral! I told you this would be easy, didn’t I?” She paused, then frowned when Coran didn’t respond. Turning around, she didn’t see the Riolu tagging behind her as she had thought he had been this entire time. “...Dang it, Squirtle, how could you have not noticed that…?” she growled to herself as she took the long walk back into the forest.

The path was harder to see, of course, considering that the moon was once again being choked out by the branches. She sniffed around, trying to pick up on Coran’s scent. Eventually, she caught a hint of it and sighed in relief. Good, that’s one liability I don’t have to worry about, she thought. He can’t be far off now. She followed the trail earnestly, coming to an imprint heavy with his smell. It didn’t take long for her to realise that he’d passed out here, probably from sleep deprivation or something.

Very unprofessional, Coran. Very-

"Get back here, you stupid birds!" a voice yelled in the near distance.

"No! No! Run away!"

"Don't kill us!"

Squirtle’s ears twitched, and she lifted her head in surprise. That was Coran’s voice. She was pretty sure that was Coran’s voice. But who was he chasing? And why did he sound so angry? She dashed after the sounds of rustled bushes, rustled wings, and evidently, rustled jimmies.

"GIVE IT BACK!"

Coran was livid. Furious. Absolutely driven up against the wall bonkers.

That's the PG way to put it.

"GET BACK HERE!!" he bellowed.

"No!"

"Danger!"

He heard a sudden pitter-patter of paws behind him and looked back to see Squirtle chasing after him, her expression a mixture of curiosity, astonishment, and embarrassment.

"Coran! What in Arceus' name are you so angry about?"

“They have it!” he said, pointing accusingly at the black cloud ahead of him. “‘Oooh, it’s miiine! It’s mine! Mine mine pretty pretty shiny shiny! UGH, I can’t TAKE it anymore!!”

“...Pretty pretty shiny shiny?” Squirtle echoed, giving him a look. “Come on, Coran, they aren’t cave-mon.” Upon noting Coran’s withering stare, however, she abandoned that conversation thread.

"Squirtle." He said coolly. "I am not in the mood for this. So please. Kindly hold your witty little comments until after I rip these misers' scavenging beaks from their heads."

“Uh…” Squirtle grimaced, probably at the image that had sprung into her mind. “Don’t do that, please, just...get the pendant back, no need to murder anyone.”

Coran gave a grunt of assent. “Fine. I’m still frickin’ pissed though.”

”He's a fighter! He'll slaughter us!" The murder of Murkrow cried.

"But you're fliers too!" Squirtle pointed out. "That negates the type advantage."

The Murkrow immediately stopped their flight of fear. Slowly, deliberately, they descended and landed lightly on the dirt road.

"She's right."

"It's true. We could..."

"She's right."

"Get him!"

"It's true!"

"Get him!"

“Does anyone have any berries? I’m starved.”

“Get him!!”

“Get him!!”

Coran turned his face slowly to face Squirtle, his eyes aflame with rage. His left eye twitched a bit, and he let out a high-pitched whine. Squirtle grinned sheepishly, her tail tucked between her legs. “...Sorry.”

And the Murkrow were upon him.

Figuring that she was going to have to make up for this somehow, Squirtle rushed into the battle, swiftly generating stars of energy and lobbing them at every black thing she could focus on. They were swarming over Coran like flies over a corpse.

Bad example.

Sparing a look at the little Riolu, who seemed to be throwing punches at as many of the crows as he could manage. Which, as it happened, turned out to be not that many. It was evident that he was having trouble. If she had somehow been unable to gather that from the fact that he had not landed a single good hit yet, she would be able to tell from the shouts of vocalised rage coming from Coran.

"What are you doing!?" Squirtle called incredulously. “Why are you trying to punch them?!”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do, huh?!” he yelled back before being buried in the murder.

It was becoming increasingly apparent to Squirtle that they were starting to take a real toll on Coran. It was no longer just a nuisance causing him to lose his cool - he was actually becoming pretty severely injured from the crowd.

"Use a move, Coran!"

"A what?! What does that mean?!”

"A move! You've got to know at least one!"

"I-I don’t even know where to start!!”

“Just focus!”

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. The pain didn’t decrease, and the Murkrow’s beaks were sharp as ever. But slowly, he found he was able to tune it out. It was hard to describe - he could still feel every bit of the pain and sharpness of the attacks placed upon him. But they weren’t as important as they had been before. A burning passion ignited itself in the bottom of his heart. But this passion was not gentle. It was an uncontrollable flame that quickly thrived on the rage coursing through his body like a powerful strike of hate-fuelled lightning. His fists clenched uncontrollably, the small claws on the tips drawing beads of blood from his palms. Power flowed through his veins - a terrible, horrible power, a power that was boiling up within him, a power that had to be let out. Now.

Coran’s eyes opened. He didn’t see the Murkrow. He didn’t see Squirtle. He didn’t see the ground or the pendant or the ground or anything.

He saw red. He saw an all-consuming fire, billowing within his soul, a terrible energy that threatened to burn Coran himself alive.

Wrath.

Squirtle hadn’t seen Coran move. She was beginning to get genuinely worried that they might seriously hurt him. She had not stopped her assault in an attempt to get the Murkrow off of him, but for each one that she threw off, two more took its place. But something made her stop. An alarm rang loud and clear in her head that she should get away, and stay silent.

She obeyed.

Not an instant later the murder of Murkrow was blasted away by an otherworldly pulse, flying from the detonation like shrapnel from a bomb.

And there, with fists shining white and eyes glowing red, was Coran. He made no sound. He made no attempt to. The Sorrowing Meadows was deathly quiet, every living thing frozen in horrified awe of the apparent deity before them.

Squirtle recognised what was happening. Somehow, Coran was using his Frustration. But it had become so much more than just a simple move.

Squirtle was scared.

A Murkrow began to squawk out a pitiful plea for his life but instantly halted as Coran’s eyes met his. In a movement as quick as fire along a trail of gasoline, Coran brought two of his fists down on the Murkrow’s head, smashing them into his skull so hard that he crumpled to the ground as if he were a paper doll.

Nobody moved. The only sound that could be heard was the heavy breathing from the entity of death among them.

A Murkrow screamed in fear, and without another moment to wait they all began to flee. But Coran struck faster.

Squirtle couldn’t even see Coran move. All she was able to make out were birds falling from the sky with cries of pain, and hints of some presence causing them to drop. She couldn’t see a thing. And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to.

Slowly, however, both the numbers of the Murkrow and the horrible energy plaguing the clearing began to taper out. She was able to see Coran again, and for the first time saw how beat up he truly was. He was still going after any black thing that moved, but his eyes were no longer blazing with an unearthly fire. They were tired, reduced to embers of passion and determination. His fur was matted, cut in more places than Squirtle could count from the numerous beaks of the scavengers. His every movement was accompanied with a shudder of withdrawal as the adrenaline drained from his body.

Coran could take no more. Grabbing a last Murkrow by the legs, he crumpled to the ground in a similar fashion to his first victim.

All motion had ceased. Coran was too tired to continue, and all of the Murkrow had either fled or lay on the ground, unconscious and disabled. Only now did Squirtle run forward into the clearing.

She approached Coran slowly, carefully, regarding him the way that you or I may regard a wild animal. “...Coran…” she whispered. “...What did you just do?”

Coran lifted his head off of the ground just enough to turn it towards her. She cringed - he was in even worse shape than she had thought before. His eyes were completely devoid of any energy whatsoever. He had cuts and bruises all over his body, and he had small patches of blood along his muzzle and knuckles. It was nothing life threatening, but it couldn’t have been very pleasant to sustain all these injuries.

“I…” he managed to choke out some sort of response. His voice was dry and cracked. “...I got...the...pendant…”

Squirtle looked at him, her eyes round with shock. “...You think I care about the pendant?” she exclaimed. “You were glowing with the force of a nuclear bomb! You’re beaten half to death! You think I care about a dumb pendant?!”

Coran gave no verbal response. His face scrunched into a grimace, and his left paw dragged limply across the ground to the talons of the last Murkrow he’d snagged. Fighting weakly to unclench them, he was able to wrest an object that made a metallic clinking sound as it was dragged along the grass.

“...c-client...client comes...first…” he whispered, before resting his head on the grass, wet with dew.

Squirtle’s face softened. She would need a lot of time to think about what just happened. There was no getting around the fact that what Coran had done had terrified her. But at the same time, he could have given up. It was no secret to either of them that he had been frustrated. He could have quit. He could have found Squirtle and told her he wasn’t up for this task.

But for whatever reason, Coran had stuck it out. And the consequences were rather dire, yes, but he had gotten the pendant back. And he was proud of it. She couldn’t take that away from him.

Squirtle smiled. "Good job, Coran. Good job."

The Yamask smiled tearfully. Coran couldn’t really tell whether that was because he was emotional about the pendant, or because he was always like that. He was crying when they had met up with him in the first place, after all.

“Thank you...for g-getting it back,” he sobbed.

“You’re welcome,” Coran replied, smoothing the fur on top of his head. “It was...it was a very unique experience getting it back.”

"Now, if you'll give us the payment, please?" Squirtle prompted.

“...Oh...r-right,” he said, sniffling a bit as he looked into a satchel he’d brought. “I...oh...oh, nooo…”

Coran’s heart sank. “...Oh, no, what?”

“...I only have eight hundred…” he whispered, choking up. “I’m s-so sorry...I’m a terrible person…”

“It’s alright,” Squirtle said soothingly. “We’ll take the eight hundred. But in the future, I want you to make sure that you can follow up on the rewards, okay?”

Yamask agreed, apologised, and vacated the premises. Squirtle stole a glance at Coran and saw him wince. "Calm down, it's only a two hundred Poké difference.”

“It...isn’t that,” Coran said, slumping down against the outer wall. “...I think I found out what an adrenaline crash is like.” He let out a long sigh.

Squirtle gave him a little look. “...You know what? Take today off. You deserve it.”

Coran nodded absentmindedly, then trudged off to his guest room to a pleasant surprise. There, where his bed used to be, was a raw hodgepodge of blankets and soft leaves sewn together, stuffed with what he believed to be a mixture of some sort of wool and moss. He smiled to himself.

A mattress.

Coran fell down upon it and slept.

Link to BONUS CHAPTER

“Everyone here seems kind of cold,” Coran noticed. By this, he did not mean that everyone in Nuzlocke was uncomfortable with the temperature; rather, he meant that nobody quite seemed to appreciate his presence that much.

“…Really? I’ve never noticed.” Squirtle (the Eevee) said, looking around.

“That was sarcasm, wasn’t it?” Coran said, crossing his arms. “Honestly, I’m really new here, so I can’t tell. Sarcasm is not a good idea when you’re introducing people to places and such.”

“No, it isn’t sarcasm,” Squirtle reiterated. “I’ve really just kept to myself. My only contact with these Pokémon is through the Bulletin Board. They post problems, I solve them. End of story.” Squirtle shrugged. “But now that you mention it, everyone does seem kind of quiet and reclusive.”

“Yeah, it’s like everyone here is an adolescent teenager who takes pride in being an introvert.”

Squirtle stared at him, confused. “…what?”

“Forget it,” said Coran, mentally reeling from the words that had spilt out of his mouth. What had he even said? He couldn’t remember it exactly. It was foggy, as if the sentence had been said months ago rather than moments.

Squirtle, who, by this point, had begun deliberating on what Coran had pointed out about Nuzlocke’s general attitude, tried to start a conversation with a passing Breloom. “Hi there!” she said, uncharacteristically cheerily.

Breloom gave her a confused look, before narrowing his eyes. He seemed to be trying to discern what it was Squirtle wanted. “Um…Hello.”

“Nice day, isn’t it?” Squirtle asked.

Breloom simply looked up at the sunny blue sky. “No.”

Squirtle wasn’t expecting a negative answer. She drew back in surprise. “What? Why?”

“I am a part mushroom. Mushrooms like dank, dark places. It’s too hot for me.” Breloom said, before walking along his way without another word.

Squirtle frowned deeply. “I…wasn’t expecting that. Maybe he’s just an outlier,” she mumbled, giving Coran a curious look. “Anyways, we didn’t come here to socialise. We came here to shop. Come on, let’s go.”

Squirtle led Coran up to a nearby booth built into the front of what looked like a warehouse. It was currently empty - nobody was there. “Hello?” Squirtle called. “Is anyone there?”

A bored looking Shuppet came to the front of the booth. Her half-lidded eyes took in the pair of Pokémon in front of her. She let out a quiet sigh and took a deep breath. “Hello, and welcome to Banette’s Bazaar, how can I help you today?” The words came out of her mouth so monotonous and easily it seemed as if she had been saying them for the past ten minutes before Coran and Squirtle had come to the booth.

“Yes, I’d like to peruse some of your wares, please,” Squirtle replied.

Shuppet raised an eyebrow at Squirtle’s eloquent vocabulary and gestured behind her. “There’s shelves upon shelves back there. Take a look at our…extensive selection of merchandise and commodities.” Shuppet said, smirking a bit.

Squirtle, a bit put off, nodded her head curtly. “Thank you.”

Coran, while Squirtle and Shuppet had been talking, was checking out the shelves. It wasn’t a very big store, but there still was quite a selection. Many, many berries, a few TMs and HMs, rocks, sticks, thorns, seeds and some very expensive vitamins. Squirtle walked up to him. “What do you see?”

“Just gonna put this out there, but…” Coran’s voice quivered as he looked at the plethora of items with nothing short of overwhelming fear. “I have no idea what any of this stuff does.”

“Y'know, I would explain this to you, but I feel I’ve done enough explaining to last me a lifetime, so I’ll just take some of these,” she said, grabbing some of the blue berries and putting them in her bag. “…and we should probably have some of these,” she finished, putting two reddish seeds into her treasure bag. She took it back to the front of the shop.

Shuppet, without even looking at the bag, told them the total was 900 Poké. Squirtle paid the right amount, then left. “Coran,” she said. “I believe it’s time for you to take your first trouble.”

Coran wasn’t so sure he agreed with her about that, but he realised that he would have entered a losing battle if he tried to challenge that, so he decided not to resist. They headed back to the Bulletin Board and looked at the possible jobs.

“Here. This one looks good for your first time,” Squirtle announced. Coran looked at where Squirtle was pointing. It read:

Get my pendant back!

Rank: E Dungeon: Sorrowing Meadows

My name is Yamask. I was travelling through the Sorrowing Meadows on my way to my friend’s place. I came through without incident, but when I got back to Nuzlocke, I found that my pendant, which had been handed down through my family for a long time, was missing! I would go back to get it, but now I hear rumours of suspicious Pokémon roaming around. Please, get it back!

Reward: 1000 Poké

Coran bit his lip. A shiver ran down his spine at the name. “Sorrowing Meadows?” he said, unable to banish a whine from his voice. “I-is that somewhere between Blood-Death Gulch and Endless Pain Hill?”

“Oh, hush. The Sorrowing Meadows aren’t that bad. And besides, it seems like he was only on the main path, so it’ll be easy to find the pendant.” She let that hang a bit, then continued. “I’m coming with you, of course. This is your first job, and you didn’t really pass the Sanity test, so I’m going to be keeping an eye on you.”

Normally, this would have struck Coran as an attack on his ego. But the thought of tackling such a sinister-sounding place such as the Sorrowing Meadows alone was even more of an attack, and on something a little more vulnerable than his ego. He agreed.

“Here it is! The Sorrowing Meadows,” announced Squirtle, nodding in what she was sure was an official manner.

Coran looked at her in confusion. “How can you be so chipper in a place like this?”

The Sorrowing Meadows looked quite sorrowing indeed. The thickly laid trees were dead skeletons, reaching out to scratch and scrape anyone who passed by, as if they were being controlled by a deranged puppeteer. The pale moon rising up along the scraggly horizon of gnarled branches made tinted everything below its light a sickly purple colour, draining the forest of any sign of life. The worn dirt path had stone bricks scattered about, half buried in the dirt. It was as if someone had tried to civilize the woods, but had died when he had just started the act. Even this path the poor soul had made seemed threatened, as if the purple grass was extending its tendrils to choke it out. If he looked hard enough, Coran could see the outline of a steeple in the background. A holy building in an unholy place was not a good thing for a genre savvy Pokémon like him. Overall, this was not first stage material.

“And why did we have to come here at night? Why can’t it wait till the morning?”

“Because, Coran,” Squirtle answered, “That notice was posted today, and it detailed suspicious Pokémon about-”

“Wouldn’t that mean going at night was a bad thing?!” Coran blurted.

“Let me finish!” Squirtle snapped. “Suspicious Pokémon are dangerous, yes, but they could also steal the pendant. It’s best for us to get the pendant as soon as possible so it isn’t stolen. The client comes first.”

Coran hesitated. “Okay, fine. Let’s do it. But when we get back, I’m going to make a mattress and you’re going to help me.”

“…No I’m not.”

“Come on!”

“Yes, come on, that’s a great idea,” Squirtle said, flicking her tail and taking her first steps into the Sorrowing Meadows.

Things did not get better when they entered the dungeon. Almost immediately the moon at their backs was blotted out by the skeleton-like trees. The path, though worn enough to be seen, became more and more choked by ivy and grass as the two Pokémon ventured further into the forest. It was getting truly hard to see, and Coran was beginning to doubt whether he would even be able to spot a tiny pendant at all in the darkness. He did note that he didn’t see any of those aforementioned ‘hostile Pokémon’, which he was grateful for. But he would much rather be sleeping right now. This was not an enjoyable pastime and his entire body recognized this.

"Well, farther up and further in!” Squirtle chirped in an excessively happy manner, as if trying to mock him.

Coran simply sighed and followed her. That was before he tripped on a tree root.

“Ow.” Coran was not in the best of moods, and this did not help. Therefore, he had to convince himself to get up. He spent one long minute on the ground, trying his very hardest to tell himself that going further into this forsaken land was a better idea than lying here in the dirt. When he did get up, however, he was faced with a rather prominent problem.

Squirtle was gone.

One hour later…

Coran ran frantically through the quickly darkening forest, trying to find any sign of Squirtle. Or any sign of an exit.

Or any sign of hope.

Terrified at every single sound he knew he wasn’t making, he dashed across the path, confident that Squirtle wouldn’t have strayed from it. But the longer he ran alongside the road, the darker things became, and the more hopeless things seemed to be. The ground somehow felt unfamiliar beneath his paws. This was a strange thing to note, Coran realized, considering that he’d never been here before. This entire place was unfamiliar. Then he remembered he was also apparently an amnesiac. So not only was this place unfamiliar, but also literally everything he’d ever experienced since waking up in that field. His throat was getting scratchy from thirst. He didn’t have a bag on him. No berries grew here. There was only sorrow.

This is my first job! I can’t die here! Where is she? Where is anything?!

Coran was getting delirious. Why…why is it even called Sorrowing Meadows…? It’s a forest. Not meadows. If…if anything, Nuzlocke should be called Sorrowing Meadows. Would that mean this place was Nuzlocke? What does Nuzlocke mean, anyways? Is there a secret in Nuzlocke? Is there a thousand year old door locked with a key you can only get by winning a racing tournament with foxy items off destination? Where can I get a nuzkey? Is there a town called Nuzkey, and if there is how do I get it to Nuzlocke so they can kiss and unlock the foxy tourney door….? He chuckled nervously. He had slowed down, and was simply walking across the path absentmindedly. After a while of sauntering along his merry way, he heard a sort of metal scraping along with his footsteps. He looked down, and saw a pendant and chain hooked around his foot. He picked it up, and guessed it must have been the pendant he was here for.

“…I…I win,” he said, teetering on his feet. “H-hey…hey, Sq-Squirtle…H-how many points is…” Before he could finish his sentence, Coran fell flat on his face, unconscious.

“He’s out cold…”

“What do we do now? Can we?”

“It’s fine…he doesn’t need it.”

“It’s so shiny!”

“He won’t mind, right?”

“Right.”

And the pendant was gone.

Link to Chapter 4

"Look, I know it isn't one of those mattresses you were talking about, but that doesn't mean you need more sleep just because it's a little more uncomfortable," Squirtle said, stomping over to him and frowning at the Riolu curled up on the bed of straw. "If you're going to stay here, you're gonna have to pull your own weight."

"...Uncomfortable? Are you kidding?" Coran mumbled. "I could lie here all day."

Squirtle was silent for a moment as she adjusted her perspective to fit this new statement. ".......but you won't, right?"

"If I lay here...if I just lay here...will you lie with me and just forget the world?" Coran sang sleepily, rolling over so his back was facing Squirtle.

"What? No! We've got work to do! Up and at 'em!"

"It seems to me..." Coran paused to yawn, before continuing, "that you don't value sleep as much as I do." He left a small pause as he thought about what to say. "Did you know that you are more likely to be productive if you have a full eight hours of sleep?"

"Yes, yes, that's great. But you need to get up now." Squirtle said flatly, shoving sand into Coran's face.

Coran gave a sharp cry of surprise and quickly sat up, rubbing sand out of the fur on his face. New sensation there. "Ugh...aw, you got sand all over the bed!"

"Are you awake?" Squirtle deadpanned.

Coran sighed, knowing if he said no, he'd get another face full of dirt. "Yes. Yes, I am."

"Good. Follow me, please."

Coran grumbled a bit, but he got to his feet and walked behind Squirtle as he was instructed.  

After Squirtle had recruited Coran for...whatever she was recruiting him for, she'd led him to this small building on the outskirts of some sort of town. It was pretty quaint - a relatively small hut-like building with a bulletin board out front. It looked relatively warm and inviting, which was good. Warm and inviting was a good thing. She had led him inside and shown him around the three rooms. The main room was the one you walked into when you first went through the door. It was pretty big, with a very large map on the opposite wall, an equally large table with some stools set around it, and a supply closet Coran could only assume was filled to the brim with mechanical pencils and sarcasm. There was the 'room' that he was staying in. It was really just a small bed of straw that had its line of sight blocked off from the main room by a C-shaped curve around a wall. He would have complained, but he was technically a jobless hobo so he'd take what he could get. The last room Coran didn't get to see. It was behind the only actual door in the place, and Squirtle said it was her office and he wasn't allowed inside unless under direct supervision by her.  

Guess girls are the only ones who get privacy here too, Coran remarked wryly. Then he stopped and frowned for a moment. ....Where did that thought come from?

Squirtle came to this door and turned around again. "Alright. Wait here, I'm going to get something." She opened the door and walked inside, closing it behind her. Coran had an urge to push open the door after her. There was no doorknob - probably because she wouldn't be able to use one anyways - so it would be as simple as pushing the door open to peek. But he couldn't do it. He was pretty sure if he did that he'd get a little more than simple sand in his face. So he waited. Eventually, the door was pulled open again, and Squirtle was holding a few papers and a pencil in her mouth. She put them down on the ground in front of Coran and looked up at him.

"Okay, I'm going to need you to sign these."

"These? The contracts? Okay, um..." Coran read them over. They were very confusing, using strange words he'd never seen before like quid pro quo, ad valorem, and espresso venti. "I, uh, don't understand all this legal lingo. What does it mean?"

"Oh, it just says that we're partners. It has some sort of time limit, but that's not important." Squirtle said, then to herself, "...Also, it means I own you for five years, but that's not important either..." She coughed. "Now, if you'll sign here and...here," she announced in an official manner, pointing at the lines at the bottom of the contracts.

"Oh, okay," Coran replied, taking the pen and signing his name, before doing a double take. "Wait, what was that last part?"

"Partners?"

"No, after that."

"The time limit thing."

"After that, too."

"...Sign here and here?"

"...Forget it."

"Good, good," Squirtle finished, putting the contracts away for the time being. "Any questions so far?"

"Yes, I probably should've asked this before I signed the contract, but what exactly am I helping with?"

"Well, to put it bluntly, we help people with problems."

Coran pondered this. "...Like...homework problems? 'I can't do my algebra' problems?"

Squirtle made a face. "Well...I guess if someone were willing to pay enough we'd help with that, but...I've never gotten an offer like that so let's just say no to keep things simple."

"Okay, so what WILL we be doing?"

"That's a bit of a hard question to answer," Squirtle said with a frown. "But...I guess it's sort of an important thing to know." She began to walk towards the front door idly. "Lately a lot more Pokémon have been going feral. Started attacking people for no reason. Most often I find myself handling disputes other than that but now that we have you we'll probably be dealing with those quite a bit."

"...Great."

"Yeah, I thought that too," Squirtle said with a small smirk.

"Alright, well, if you've been avoiding all these conflict jobs like the plague, what have you been doing?"

"Mostly fetch quests or other jobs like that," Squirtle said. "I can't fight that well, but I'm pretty good at handling myself in dangerous situations, and there are some pretty rare items in dangerous places."

Coran stared at her blankly. "...Right."

Squirtle saw the vacant stare on his face and she sighed. "Look, I'll make it simple. Just take a job you can do, do it, and get the reward."

Coran simply nodded. "So when do I start?"

"Well, we need you to pass a few tests before you sign...the...contract." Squirtle slowed down and stared at the signatures of Coran's name on the two dotted lines at the bottom of the contract. She narrowed her eyes, realizing her mistake. "You better hope to nothin' else you pass these tests." She spat, glaring at Coran.

Coran slunk down. "T-tests? What kind of tests?"

Squirtle tried to calm down. This is my fault, not his. Yet she still had a trace of malice in her voice as she said, "Tests to make sure you're fit for this kind of business. They'll make sure that you can be productive, and be productive without killing yourself."

"A-are...are any of them written tests?" Coran asked nervously. "I'm, uh...not very good at those."

"Don't worry, none of it's written. Anyway, first, intelligence. I need to know your brain is at least working."

Coran nodded.

"If you have five cookies, and I take away two, what will you have?"

He blinked for a moment, before grinning. "Indignation."

"Please answer these seriously, Coran."

"Okay, fine. I'll have three cookies."

Squirtle breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, good, you're able to do basic math and honestly that's all I'm going to need from you. Next up is logic. If you have five cookies, and I take away two, what will I have?"

"Didn't you just ask that?" Coran said, confused.

Squirtle gave him a look. "Is that your final answer?"

Coran's eyes went wide as saucers. "No, no, no! Uh...can you repeat the question?"

Squirtle shook her head.

"Okay. That's cool. Whatever. I had it memorized, anyway." Think, Coran, think! What was it again? Uh...Five cookies, she took away two, what will I have? It's three, isn't it? Wait...'what will I have...'

"It's two. You'll have two cookies."

"Good. I don't need to test you on strength, because all Fighting types are inherently powerful, so that leaves...uh oh."

"What? What's left?" Coran asked, his curiosity and anxiety both piqued.

"The Sanity test."

"What?! What kind of test is that?"

"A test to find out if you're sane or not. I had to add it after a past partner tried to maul my face off mid-mission. I'm okay with face maulings, just not to me."

"Well, what's so bad about this test? Why the uh oh?"

"Most sane Pokemon don't think they're human."

Coran gaped. "Come on! You helped me conclude that, for harmony's sake! Remember? Divorce is a human practice!"

"...I wasn't serious, Coran."

"Well, I thought you were," Coran pouted. "You have some responsibility in this too."

Squirtle frowned. "Whether I do or don't doesn't matter. The outcome is the same. Usually, I can tell whether someone is sane or not by simply talking to them. You, however, are a special case. All signs point to you being sound of mind. Except one. One big, glaring, neon, flashing sign. And it says..." Squirtle trailed off, looking at him expectantly.

"...I'm a human," Coran finished begrudgingly. "Look, I know. It's ridiculous. Preposterous. I'm not even sure if I believe it myself. But I...I..." Coran sunk to the floor. "I don't know. I can't justify if I'm sane or not. But even if I was a human then, I'm a Pokemon now, and my primary objective is to find someplace to stay. If I don't get this, I'm on my own, and I'm gonna take a wild guess and say I'm not going to do well on my own." He laughed wryly a bit, then said, "Can you take one look at me, and honestly say I look like someone who would...how did you put it? Maul your face off?"

Squirtle gave him a hard stare. Should she? She had to admit, he looked mentally stable. But so did that other one. She shivered. The way Coran talked, it had sense behind almost every word. She made a face. Except for 'mattress'. Standing up, she gave a long sigh, and a longer look, she hung her head.

"...Fine. You pass. Welcome to the team, Coran."

Link to Chapter 3

~~~~~

A light breeze blew past the field of grass and not much else as a small Eevee named Squirtle calmly walked through it, letting the brisk atmosphere course through her body. What she had come here to contemplate was not a very easy problem to figure out, and so she had sought out someplace perfect for thinking. Her office was no good – it was her workplace and it stressed her out enough just seeing the massive amounts of work to do without being constantly reminded of the problem she was currently facing. The beach was much too distracting. The breathtaking views of the shimmering ocean along the perpetually setting sun and the bathers and couples on the sand would have distracted her attention too much. No, Sunset Beach wouldn’t do either. Which was why Squirtle the Eevee had come here. These plains were so little and insignificant that they didn’t even have a name. She affectionately called them the Little Insignificant Plains when she had to refer to them, which was never. Nothing ever happened here, The few Pokémon that did come here were few and far between, and the place wasn’t the kind of locale to attract troublemakers. So overall it was a very boring blasé place to be. Perfect for thinking.

Yes, Squirtle (the Eevee) thought, there was absolutely no way that I could be distracted. There is no way by hell or high water that anything could take me off the subject at hand.

And, walking through the little insignificant plains, Squirtle (the Eevee) kept on thinking that until she got a face full of little insignificant dirt.

~~~~~

Studies have been conducted on the subject of the most unpleasant way to wake up. These studies have concluded that the worst way to wake up would be for someone to trip over you. This method includes you suffering a kick in the ribs, before being forced to endure the intolerable weight of your aggressor’s body falling over your own, snapping you out of your slumber. Studies have also shown that readers like you are more likely to believe a statement if they are placed in a scientific pretense, but I digress. Needless to say, Coran was not happy about this method of waking up.

"Ow."

“Sorry, sorry,” the lump on top of him mumbled as she scampered off of him and onto her feet. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Coran laid on the ground, attempting to lull himself back into a trance, convincing himself that he can fall back asleep if he, ironically, exerted himself hard enough. After this proved ineffectual, however, he gave up the act and let out a deep sigh of regret, mourning the loss of his wonderful dozing.

"It's fine," Coran replied, even though he felt that this Eevee interrupting his pattern of rest was anything but fine.

The Eevee gave a short nod, and that seemed to be the end of the conversation. She turned around, about to walk away, when she abruptly stopped and turned back towards him. "What are you doing out here, anyway? Why sleep here?"

Coran was about to answer but found that he couldn't. He was unable to tell this Eevee why he was here, or why he was sleeping, for that matter. But he had to say something.

"I...um...heard that grass is comfier to sleep on than a mattress, and wanted to try it out. See if it was true."

"What's a mattress?" she asked, tilting her head ever so slightly.

"What, you don't have them around here?"

"Apparently, no."

"Well, mattresses are a large piece of fabric, usually stuffed with something soft and you sleep on it."

The Eevee stared at him as if he had explained some sort of fever dream to her. “...Right.”

There was an awkward silence between the two. Coran was currently struggling with two things – coming up with polite conversation topics, and figuring out why the Eevee hadn’t just up and left yet.

"...Why are you still lying there?" she asked.

Coran didn't respond. He was a little shocked. How did I not notice that? He got up and realised that he was only about a foot taller than this Eevee.

"That's strange..."

"What is it?"

"Well, I imagined Eevees to be a lot smaller. Didn't expect them to be four and a half feet tall."

Once again, Coran received the ‘from another planet’ look. “...I’m not,” she said slowly as if talking to a child. “...I’m almost a foot tall.”

It was then and only then that Coran noticed his current appearance. Blue paws, a little white section about halfway up each arm, a snout, two long floppy black ears, a blue tail, and two black dog-like legs. He frowned a bit in mild confusion.

"Was I always like this?" he asked himself.

The Eevee’s expression didn’t dissipate this time. It remained in a fixed mixture of rapt attention and utter confusion. “...What do you mean, ‘like this’?” she asked. “...If you mean as a Riolu...I mean, you were in an egg once, but other than that, I’d assume so.”

"That's strange," Coran said again.

Squirtle (the Eevee, in case you've forgotten) was a bit put off by this eccentric display before her. She didn't know how to respond. Something about this boy was very off-putting. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to leave. Everything about him reeked of suspicion, from the words he said to the way he said them. But she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

"What's strange?" she asked.

Coran laughed lightly, failing to take the situation in as a whole. "I can remember something like mattresses, but I can't remember if I've always been a Pokemon."

Squirtle's eyes grew wide. Instantly she felt as if she were waist deep in the rabbit hole. If what this kid said was true then he was certifiably insane. Probably. And she should get away from him post haste. But she didn’t. “...W-well...well, what do you remember?”

Coran closed his eyes and concentrated. "Mattresses, blenders, board games," He listed, going on.

Squirtle cut him off. "That's great and all, but that doesn't really tell me who you are," she said frankly. Was he just pulling words out of nowhere? What was a blender? Did it blend things? Yes, Squirtle, a blender blends things, good job. "Okay, okay. Um...I remember grass, like this, a house with...two floors. I think I lived there. Uh...two parents...wait, no. One. Where'd the father go? Um...Divorce? Oh...that's sad. Uh...two dogs, and-"

"Wait, did you say divorce? What's that?"

"I think it's when a couple is married, and they don't like each other anymore and split up."

"Sounds like a human practice,” Squirtle remarked.

"A human practice? You have humans here?"

"Well, we did."

"Oh." Coran didn't wish to press it any further for the moment. "Well, I guess that means I'm a human turned Pokemon...?"

Yes. Yes, this kid was insane. He was most definitely truly insane and this moment was the moment Squirtle was finally able to muster up the willpower to leave. “Yep, seems so! G’bye, glad I could help!” She quickly turned on her heel and began to briskly walk away, trying to ignore the nagging feeling in her head that she was being a very stupid Pokémon indeed for whatever reason. Coran was left standing there, thinking for himself as well.

I'm a human. A human turned into a Pokemon. I'm glad I got that puzzle solved, but what now? What do I do? Wait until Scotty beams me up back into the human world or something? Coran pondered and pondered. Then he realised that his only guide to this world and the only thing that knows he exists was walking away from him, lost in her own thoughts.

"Wait!"

Squirtle turned around, looking back over the field to that strange Riolu who she thought she was done with. Apparently not, as he was running towards her. This was...slightly concerning, but he didn’t seem crazy and murderous. Yet. "Yes?"

"W-what's...what's your name?" he asked, obviously out of breath.

"Squirtle," Squirtle replied.

"Uh...okay...” Coran made a face as he digested that. “Excuse me for saying this, but that's a weird name for an Eevee."

"I know it is. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"Wait! You are the only Pokemon who knows I exist, and I have no idea where to go, and no idea what to do, and I'm here, not home, and I...I...I'm lost!"

Squirtle was shocked by the outburst. She did not expect a Pokemon so calm and collected before to burst out like that. Nonetheless, a puzzle piece clicked into place that seemed to solve her problem. This Pokemon, however erratic, seemed perfect. Riolus were fighting types, and that meant they were strong. And strong was what she needed. Squirtle was not strong. She was a lot of things but she wasn’t strong. But this guy was. And if he wasn’t he could become strong very quickly.

Was he insane? Most probably, yes, but for whatever reason, she had a good feeling about this guy.

"What is your name?"

"Coran."

"Well...if you want, you could help me with something, and in return, I could give you a place to stay."

Coran jumped at the chance. "Yes! Thank you...I don't know what I would've done on my own...but what do you need help with?"

"A business venture."