[CHAPTER TWELVE: NACRENE]
As a contrast to Striaton and Nuvema, Nacrene was considered by native Unovans to be the beginning of civilization. It always had been one of the buffers between Castelia and the rest of the world with its rickety, old warehouses-turned-art-spaces—the ones that survived despite how decrepit they were even fifty years ago. Really, the only difference between then and now was that there were somehow more of those warehouses. Despite the fact that Nacrene City had not seen an actual factory in over a century—beyond the mass-produced hipster phenomenon in the 2010s, anyway—somehow, the little burg in its tiny crook beside Pinwheel Forest and South River sprouted an entire labyrinth of dirty, old brick buildings converted into loft spaces for tortured artists trying to find themselves.
But that part of Nacrene was off limits to the average trainer. Every Companion, Geist included, knew this, but even without a Companion, one could easily tell that the warehouses and ancient hipster relics were off-limits to the average trainer. The glassy pathway that was Route 3 fed directly into a guard’s outpost, which in turn fed directly into the High Line Pathway, and the High Line Pathway was exactly what it sounded like: a pathway built above the city, winding across its expanse. Its main features: friendly lighting, nicely maintained plants, three-foot walls leading into four-story drops, and exits only at key trainer-friendly locations and tourist spots. During business hours.
This was not, in other words, a place one would expect Door to like. Not with its contemporary grunge or its neon lights advertising every fake thing in existence. Yet as Geist led her into the city, her eyes turned down to its sprawling expanse, and she couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit of awe towards every little detail she could see from her lofty vantage point. As her eyes flicked from detail to detail, she stroked Jack absently as he purred on his shoulder, and between the vibration of his tiny body and the dim, multicolored lights all around her, Door felt … almost at
peace.
“You know,” Geist said, leaning towards her, “this isn’t the original main road. A trainer had entered the city during the heyday of the old Unova League, they would have done so six blocks to the south and at ground level. Traffic was rerouted to the north about two decades ago, following the completion of the High Line Pathway.”
Door nodded, only half paying attention to what her Companion was saying. “I know.”
“Ah. Good.” Geist folded his hands behind his back. “I just wanted to let you know that this experience isn’t quite as true to the champion’s as you might like.”
“I know.”
He shot her a look. “You
are listening to me, yes? Not just saying you know while failing to pay attention to a word I’ve been saying?”
“Don’t be stupid, Geist. Of course I’m listening to you. It’s just ... weird.”
“Weird?”
Door shrugged and tore her eyes away from a storefront. “I dunno. I always thought Nacrene was the bottom edge of the crowded parts of Unova.”
“It is,” Geist replied slowly. “Turn here for the pokémon center, by the way.”
Without even a nod of acknowledgment, Door turned and began walking down a thin pathway arcing away from the thick, main trunk of the High Line. She could see the pokémon center mere blocks from her.
“Okay, so,” she said slowly, “where’s all the crime?”
Geist stopped. He gave her an awkward stare, as if to weigh whether or not he should answer her question. Then, he extended a hand across his chest and pointed to the wall, silently pressing her to look over it.
She did so. Leaning against the wall, she stood on tip-toe with one hand latched firmly on the scruff of Jack’s neck as the two of them peered down at the streets below. Beneath the ambling pathway, trash collected between buildings and against the High Line’s supports. People huddled in the darkness, in the shadows, sometimes low to the ground with their hands on a raggedy pokémon of one type or another. Younger, scrappier men ambled in the openness of the streets, shouting and occasionally shoving one another while herdier barked and howled at their heels. Women were less common sights out there, but when Door could spot them, they were almost always either walking quickly and with purpose along the sidewalks or drunkenly with male company in the shadows of the High Line. One couple spilled into Door’s view, her hands reaching down to his pants, and Door—knowing at once what that meant—pulled herself back up, pushed away from the wall, and walked away.
“Up until Castelia, think of it as easy mode,” Geist said as he fell into step behind her. “Nuvema and Striaton are safe compared to the rest of the region, and Nacrene herds you to wherever you need to be. But once you get to Castelia, it’s very easy to end up in seedier areas like what you see down there. That’s why a Companion is so essential.”
Door jammed her hands into her pockets. “Or. You know. Common sense.”
“You’ll be surprised to know how rare that actually is.”
Door cast Geist a withering look. She wasn’t about to dignify him with a response; she knew what he was doing. He was luring her into responding, just so he could counter it with some other witty comeback. It was so obvious to her. Companions had certain personality types, and if any human could detect a pattern in the way they behaved, everything they did became obvious—mere chains of actions dictated by that single fundamental personality type.
Geist, Door decided, was a smartass type. A crossroads between the comedic and intelligent personality cores, in a combination that came off as obnoxious to her but was probably hilarious to her great aunt. Door wasn’t about to fall into that. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of a response.
And soon, she had an excuse. As she and Geist approached the pokémon center, its automatic doors whirred open, and out walked the two people Door had least expected. She froze and felt her heart drop into her stomach, and all of a sudden, any banter she might have had with Geist was instantly forgotten.
The first figure she saw was the man from Accumula—the green-haired, homeless one she had battled. He looked just as weary, just as lost in thought as he had in the town square a few days ago, and when he noticed her, he glided to a stop like a ghost.
Next to him, meanwhile, was the champion of Unova, a woman Door had only watched on television and heard about through gossip at school. This was a woman Door had looked up to since she was young, a woman whose entire journey was the epitome of all the things Door thought a trainer’s career
should be. This woman both saved and conquered Unova without a Companion, with real pokémon, with experiences the current Unova League could only
dream of replicating. This woman was the very definition of
authentic.
And her name was Hilda King.
Hilda was taller than Door had assumed she was—and a lot leaner in person too. But everything else about her was spot-on: the creases in her face; the gray streaks in her otherwise chestnut hair; the intensity in her deep, blue eyes; and even the exact shade of her blue trench coat and the fraying of her pink scarf. It was all there, in every glorious detail of the veteran trainer. Hilda stood straight, following her friend’s gaze until her eyes fell onto Door. And then, she smiled.
Smiled.
At Door.
Door was never washing her eyes again.
“Well, hello there!” Hilda said, her voice low and booming. “Seems my friend’s taken an interest in you. Sorry if he startled you. It’s his first time back in Unova, and he’s a bit of a tourist.”
Door shook her head, her mouth hanging open in awestruck silence.
“Hilda,” the man said, “this is the trainer I told you about. The one with the oshawott.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “Is that so?” Turning back to Door, she stuck out her hand. “Pleased to meet you! This is N. I’d tell you what that stands for, but he really does prefer N, and frankly, I can’t blame him. Judging by the way you’re staring at me, I’m going to go out on a limb and say you know who I am, but what’s your name, kid?”
Door squeaked. Somewhere in the back of her throat, her voice was stuck, and somewhere in the back of her head, she was already kicking herself for looking like a complete tool in front of royalty.
“This is Door Hornbeam of Nuvema City,” Geist replied, motioning towards her. “I’d tell you what
Door stands for, but I’m afraid my friend would kill me. I am her Companion, Geist, and this is Jack, the oshawott your friend was referring to.” As Jack saluted the champion, Geist reached out to shake Hilda’s hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Miss King.”
Hilda quirked an eyebrow at him. “You’ve got a talkative one on your hands. Don’t see too many of those in the Calliope line, but I guess whatever works for you, girl.” Then, withdrawing her hand from Geist’s, she reached out to pet Jack. “In any case, ‘Hilda’ is just fine. And if I may say so, you’ve got just the cutest little oshawott! Reminds me of Cheren’s starter, actually.”
Door stared at Hilda and decided she was not going to wash Jack either. Noticing her silence, Hilda laughed and drew herself away. Her hand dipped into her pocket, and with it, she drew out four objects. Holding up her palm, she presented them to Door. Three of the objects were tiny, blue gummy candies in the shapes of a bulb-like berry, and the fourth was a raindrop-shaped piece of glass on a short, black rope. Within the glass pendant, water sloshed, glittering in the lights of the street lamps and the pokémon center.
“Here,” Hilda said. “Take this. You’ll need it more than I do. You’ve got three chesto berries and one mystic water here. It should go without saying that your oshawott should be wearing the mystic water; it’ll boost its water magic, if you catch my drift.”
For a long while, Door stared at the objects. Was the champion of Unova actually giving her a present? The question echoed in Door’s mind as she struggled to force her body to move. Eventually, it was Geist who had to shift, accepting the berries with one hand and the mystic water with the other. Pocketing the berries, he turned to help Jack put the necklace on.
“We appreciate it, believe me,” he said. “You must forgive my partner. She’s not normally this silent, but it seems she’s in the presence of someone she greatly respects. So, in other words, she’s a bit starstruck at the moment.”
Door could have killed Geist if she wasn’t too busy still processing the fact that Hilda King had given her a power-up item for her oshawott. A power-up item that one of
her pokémon must have worn at one point.
“Aww, that’s sweet,” Hilda said. “I’m not that much of a role model, though, and you certainly don’t have to be so intimidated by me. My friends are much,
much better choices for people to respect than I am. Bianca, for example.”
“Ah, yes,” Geist said. “Professor Ironwood. Door works for her, actually, as her assistant’s assistant.”
Some part of Door
really wanted to kill Geist. If only the rest of her would move, anyway.
“Really? Ha! Small world,” Hilda said. “Anyway, I’m not offended at all by strong, quiet types. I’ve got another friend like that, actually. Rosa Alvarado. She tends to wander around now, but maybe someday, you’ll run into her.” Hilda hesitated for a beat. “Or, actually, come to think of it, it’s more like I’ve got
two friends who’re the strong, quiet type, if you count N.”
She winked at her partner, but he didn’t seem to notice the ribbing. Instead, his eyes were locked onto Door and Door alone. As soon as Hilda was done speaking, N took a step forward and looked down at Door.
“The Dreamyard,” he said.
This snapped Door out of her daze. Shaking her head, she blinked at N.
“W-what?” she asked.
“The Dreamyard,” he repeated. “Team Matrix. They were in the Dreamyard, weren’t they?”
“Y-yeah,” Door responded softly. “They were. How—”
“Did they attempt to capture a munna?”
Door nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“And did a musharna drive them away with its illusions?”
“Yeah.” Door gave N a strange look. “How’d you know?”
Throughout N’s questions, Hilda had gotten quiet. Her smile had faded, and her eyes had darkened. Now, she stared at Door sternly, and upon hearing the girl’s final answer, Hilda transferred her gaze to N.
“N, it’s okay,” she said. “Reshiram and Zekrom, they’re—”
He whirled around and stalked away for several steps until there was enough distance between him and Door to create a battlefield.
“Battle me,” he said. “I need to see how much you’ve grown since Accumula City.”
“Whoa, wait,” Door said. “N-now? In … in front of…?”
Hilda ignored her question in favor of moving towards N and reaching for his shoulder. As her hand rested on it, she leaned in. “N. Are you sure about this?”
He turned his head away from her and frowned. “We battled in Nacrene City too. Do you remember?”
Hilda stared at him for a beat, and then, slowly, her smile returned. Pulling away from him, she took a few more steps back and reached up to clasp her hands behind her head.
“Make me proud, kid!” she called to Door. “I want to see some energy out of you and your pokémon!”
Door smiled hesitantly and reached into her pocket. If Hilda King was asking for a show, she couldn’t turn her down. But how would she go about battling N without embarrassing herself? Briefly, she thought about using Jack, but she wanted to save him for a grand finale. It didn’t seem right to open with him, especially when she had one pokémon who was far better equipped to wipe the floor with whatever N had to offer.
“Scout! You’re up first!” she shouted.
With a burst of light, Scout took the field. He landed on his feet and stood tall, seemingly not at all bothered by the fact that he lacked an opponent. Clicking his teeth, he tilted his head and stared across the field. N couldn’t help but sigh at the sight of him.
“False pokémon,” he said. “They’re so quiet. So incomprehensible to me. When they speak, I can only hear buzzing.” He plucked a ball from his belt. “Pidove, show her!”
He tossed the ball in the air, and with a familiar, white light, a blur took to the sky, looped around, and swooped down. The pidove screeched and flicked the remaining light off its wings before diving at Scout. Far below, Scout blinked lazily, tilted his head, and stumbled out of the way mere seconds before one of the pidove’s wings would have clipped him in the face. Immediately after zooming past its target, the bird shot back into the air again and circled above the watchog.
“Door, be careful!” Geist said. “As a terrestrial pokémon, watchog can’t learn the sorts of distance attacks that can take down a flying-type unless you teach them via technical or hidden machines. In other words, there’s no way Scout will be able to reach Pidove. You have other pokémon that
can use distance attacks, however. Jack’s Water Gun—”
“Okay, thank you,” Door replied impatiently. “Scout will be fine. Scout! Show him with Crunch!”
“You should listen to your Companion,” N responded. “Pidove, Gust!”
The bird made no effort to swoop down at Scout again. Instead, it whirled around in the air until it faced the watchog, and once it did, it snapped its wings together. A blast of wind shot from its tiny body and swirled around Scout, picking the watchog up and sending him flying back into the road. He barked once when he struck the pavement, but then, slowly, he rose back to his feet and blinked at the bird. Door gritted her teeth when she realized Scout would never get a chance to use Crunch at that rate. She had to change her strategy, and she had to do it quickly.
“Again, Pidove!” N shouted.
For a second time, the bird snapped its wings together, sending another blast of wind down onto Scout. And for a second time, the meerkat was swept off his feet and slammed into the pavement, only to get back up and blink at the bird. This time, however, his movements were jerking and shaky, and it was clear to Door that one more Gust could break her pokémon.
Her eyes trailed over the battlefield. There had to be some way to lure Pidove into diving down. There had to be something she could do.
And then, she saw the wall along the edge of the High Line, and an idea quickly formed in her head.
“Once more, Pidove!” N called.
“Scout, brace yourself against the wall!” Door shouted as she threw her arm forward.
At once, Scout dashed from his spot to the wall. Above him, N’s pidove clapped its wings together to shoot another rush of wind at Scout, but the watchog ducked, tucking himself under the lip of the wall and bracing himself against the concrete and steel. This time, the wind slammed into him, but he didn’t budge. The wall itself kept him in place. Upon seeing this, the bird fluttered overhead, swerving in frustrated loops as it chirped wildly. The corners of N’s mouth tugged downwards as he gazed at his pokémon.
“It seems we have no choice, my friend,” he sighed. “Quick Attack!”
Pidove smoothed out its flight path at the sound of N’s order. It arced up, sailing in a graceful curve high into the air before angling itself towards Scout. Knowing exactly what was about to happen, Door grinned.
“Brace yourself, Scout!” she called. “You know what to do!”
The bird shot itself at Scout. Although Door had seen Quick Attack executed in televised matches, it was something entirely different to watch it happening in real life. Pidove was a gray blur, just barely visible in the lights of the pokémon center. One second, it was hovering above N’s head, and in the next, it was low to the ground, mere inches from Scout. Her heart thundered with uncertainty in that split second. How would Scout be able to catch something so quickly? Her teeth clenched in response to that thought, and at the very last moment, she flinched out of fear.
And then, there was a screech. Forcing herself to look at the battle, she was shocked to find Scout standing calmly in front of the wall. Except … he wasn’t quite standing. His lower body was stiff and solid, but his shoulders and neck had twisted down to clamp his teeth onto the pidove’s body. The bird thrashed in his jaws, screaming and squealing as blood spurted from its back and wing, but throughout his attack, Scout remained placid. He straightened. He blinked. He shook his head vigorously once. But he didn’t react to catching the pidove, and he certainly didn’t release it.
N snapped his arm up, aiming his poké ball at the pidove.
“Pidove, return!” he called.
And so it did, in a flash of red. The moment the pidove flowed out of Scout’s mouth, his jaws snapped shut, and he blinked once again. His fangs were stained with the pidove’s blood, and realizing this, Door hesitated, reached up to touch Jack, and let her face twist in open disgust. Perhaps using Scout was a bad idea after all, but something kept her from switching him out. And that something was Hilda King’s voice.
“Not bad, kid,” she said. “Using your environment to your advantage shows you’re no beginner. Just control your watchog’s power a little better, okay? You’re not supposed to draw blood in a battle!”
Door’s heart leapt at Hilda’s advice, and she couldn’t help but grin. Hilda didn’t think she was a beginner! How could she argue against a compliment like that? So with a deep breath, she let her hand drop off Jack’s back. She wouldn’t switch. Not now. Not when she was proving herself. All she needed to do was show Hilda she could control Scout a little better.
“R-right,” she said. “Okay! I’m ready for the next one if you’ve got one!”
N turned his eyes to Door as he pulled out a second poké ball. “Hm. So you’ll stay with your watchog. Artificial pokémon … it’s true that they possess an incredible amount of power, and your watchog is indeed fascinating. But its voice…” He huffed and shook his head. “Tympole! Begin with Supersonic!”
The ball in his hand cracked open, releasing yet another flash of white light. This time, it struck the pavement and resolved quickly into a black and ivory ball: a tympole, blinking in the glare of the lights overhead. The second it appeared, the tympole opened its mouth and screamed. Ripples of air shot from its maw and washed over Scout, and to Door’s surprise, the watchog flinched. His face twisted in pain, and his paws gripped the wall behind him until the noise from the tympole finally died down.
And then, Door could hear Scout’s shrieks. High-pitched and agonized, like metal on metal. Scout twisted off the wall and smashed his head into the pavement as his paws scrambled across his head in a desperate attempt to grab at his ears.
“Scout!” Door cried. “Scout, snap out of it!”
“Door, this is confusion,” Geist said. “There are only four possible ways to cure it. I don’t have the first on hand, you don’t have a pokémon capable of the second, and the third’s too risky. You need to use the fourth. Switch him out for another pokémon.”
“I know what confusion is, and I don’t need to switch him out!” Door snapped. “Scout, you can do this! Use Crunch!”
Unfortunately for her, Scout didn’t seem to hear her. He moved, but it wasn’t to attack tympole. Instead, he slammed his head against the wall of the High Line over and over and over again.
“Scout!” Door shouted.
“I’m sorry to hurt him,” N sighed, “but it must be done. Tympole, Round!”
The tympole opened its mouth again to release another scream. This time, however, the air that rippled from its open jaws formed pale, green circles, pulsating and electric as they cut through the air towards Scout. They didn’t wash over him, as Door had expected, but rather, they slammed into her watchog’s back, as if they were solid objects crashing one after another into his body. Each one smashed him against the wall, again and again, until the tympole’s attack finally stopped. And then, Scout crumpled onto the ground, panting and whimpering as he held his head.
“Door.” Geist reached out and lay a hand on Door’s shoulder. “Please. Switch him out. He can’t take much more of this.”
Shrugging his hand off her shoulder, she shouted, “Yes, he can! Scout! Crunch!”
N flicked his hand towards Scout. “Tympole, Round again!”
Scout snapped his head up, and for the first time since the battle began, Door got a good look at her pokémon’s face. It looked nothing like what Scout normally looked like. His lips were curled back, exposing his teeth in a vicious snarl, and his eyes were wide and glowing. Every part of him was tense. Every part of him was
angry.
And then, abruptly, he lunged for the tympole. The amphibian had opened its mouth again to fire off another wave of green ripples, but Scout leapt over and around these deftly, scrambling on all fours until he was nothing but a golden-brown blur on the pavement. All of a sudden, he was by the tympole’s side with his mouth open and gaping. His jaws snapped down, latching around the tympole’s body with a sickening squelch. The tympole screamed and thrashed, and a spurt of blood erupted around Scout’s fangs, but Scout didn’t let go. He held on tight, shaking his head vigorously as he sank his fangs deeper into the amphibian’s flesh. In response, Door cringed. She couldn’t do anything—couldn’t order her pokémon to stop. All she could do was watch as her watchog tried to rip the tympole apart.
So once again, N snapped his poké ball up to point it at his pokémon.
“Tympole, return!” he ordered. And then, as his pokémon was drawn back into the ball, he frowned. “I’m so sorry, my friend. I underestimated our enemy.”
Scout’s jaws snapped shut like a bear trap. Door balled her hands into fists at her side, her own anger and shock bubbling just beneath the surface of her skin.
“It wasn’t a bad attempt,” Hilda replied. “For a new trainer, this girl seems powerful. It’s just that she has to learn a little self-control, but that’s perfectly normal for someone who’s new at this.”
Door shook at the criticism. She didn’t mean to. She didn’t expect Scout to be this powerful in his evolved form, and she certainly didn’t expect him to get this emotional. But looking down at her pokémon—at the way he was still perched on all fours and at the way he shook and growled with anger—she felt a tiny splinter of panic.
And then, she felt Geist’s hand on her shoulder.
“Door,” he whispered gently. “Switch Scout out. Yes, he can still fight, but if he fights in this state, he could seriously injure N’s next pokémon. I’d hate to say it, but you’re not yet ready to calm an enraged pokémon. Recall him and use Jack instead, okay?”
She shrugged his hand off roughly. “I’m fine, okay?! I can do this, and so can Scout!”
“Door,” Hilda said.
At once, Door flicked her attention back to the champion. Hilda stared back at her with a stern, stony glare. Right away, Door’s anger dissolved, leaving only pure, cold fear at the sight of her idol staring her down not with excitement or the wise look of a mentor but instead with the expression of a parent seconds from scolding a child.
“Listen to your Companion,” she said. “Your watchog is in no state to be fighting.”
All of a sudden, everything felt cold. Door swallowed hard and pulled Scout’s poké ball from her pocket. Her pokémon hadn’t moved in those few minutes. Rather, he was still crouched low to the ground, growling and waiting for another opponent. Hilda was right; Scout was in no condition to battle. Door had embarrassed herself in front of her idol, all because she didn’t know Scout would lose control like that.
“Scout, return!” she shouted.
And to her surprise, he did. The red light of his ball swallowed him, and he didn’t fight it. He simply let it draw him off of the battlefield, and when the ball closed around him, it stayed shut. Door examined it for a second, her face twisted into a deep frown. At the edge of her peripheral vision, she watched N stride over to Hilda and hand her the tympole’s poké ball. She nodded to him, and with that, N breathed out, heaving his shoulders slowly, before returning to his side of the battlefield. The expression on his face was virtually unreadable to Door, but somehow, it looked dark in ways she couldn’t describe.
“I look forward to hearing your next pokémon’s voice,” N said. “Timburr, go!”
Door stiffened. How could N’s voice sound so calm? Didn’t he see how Scout hurt his pokémon? Didn’t he see Scout snap? Hell, didn’t he even see the way Hilda had put Door in her place? Why wasn’t he yelling at her too?
In the space between them, the light from N’s poké ball materialized into a small, child-like creature that carried a block of wood under one arm. Door knew what the creature was; it just took a moment for her to register its appearance. And in that time, the timburr twirled his block with one arm, rested it on his shoulder, and stared up at Door with a bored, impatient expression.
Geist nudged her shoulder. “Door,” he said, “he’s waiting for you to send out an opponent. I would highly recommend Jack. Huntress and Knives are both normal-types, so they have an elemental disadvantage to the timburr species. Water-types like Jack, however, are neither strong against nor weak against fighting-types like timburr. Besides, this would be a good opportunity to get Jack the experience he needs to evolve.”
“Why won’t you just leave me alone?” Door said. “I can do this on my own, you know.”
Taking a step back, Geist dropped his arms to his sides and gave her a steady, neutral glance. “It’s my duty, Door. Among other things, Companions are designed to be sources of information for their trainers. In every battle, we do our best to provide our partners with advice and analyses that may improve their chances for victory.”
“Well, I don’t need you to do that,” she hissed. “So, I don’t know—shut that feature off or something.”
“I wouldn’t recommend that. It could be useful,” Hilda said.
Door looked back at her to see her smiling. Actually smiling this time, in a gentle manner. Like a mother smiling at a child.
And right then, as she stared at the champion’s grin, something sick and cold wormed its way into her stomach.
“To be honest,” Hilda continued, “I kinda wish I had a Companion back when I’d journeyed. It would’ve made life so much easier.”
Door felt her heart twist. Her idol was actually supporting a cop out? It took a deep breath and a moment of clenched teeth for Door to gain control of her anger and push it deep down inside her—just enough for her to think. And when her head cleared, even just a little, she shrugged to send Jack onto the field.
“Jack, start with Water Gun,” she growled.
The otter trilled and somersaulted off her shoulder. Landing in front of the timburr, Jack rocked backwards, inhaling deeply as he went, and then exhaled a hard jet of water from his mouth. His attack cut through the air in seconds, struck N’s timburr in the chest, and launched him backwards. N’s timburr hit the ground with a thud, but the attack didn’t stop there. Instead, he was pushed—dragged across the pavement by the Water Gun—for a few meters while his block of wood skittered out of his hand and beyond its reach. Gritting his own teeth, the timburr snarled and rose to his feet again. In the dim light, Door could see a flash of his skinned back, and she grimaced at the thought of the injury.
N, meanwhile, regarded his pokémon’s injury with a steadily darkening expression. Yet even then, he refused to lose his composure. He refused to break down and say
something to Door.
Instead, he pointed to Jack. “Timburr, Low Kick!”
“Jack! Jump over it and Tackle! Pin Timburr down!” Door shouted.
Jack crouched in preparation, and the timburr rushed forward far quicker than Door had anticipated. She had expected him to be slowed by his injuries. She had expected him to be in pain. She had expected that agony to affect him. But no, that wasn’t what happened. One moment, he was struggling to stand up, and in the next, he was mere inches from her oshawott. His foot swept down, and Jack, who was just as surprised as Door was by the timburr’s quickness, had no time to dodge. So instead, the fighter’s leg hit him hard in his back paws, and Jack fell flat on his back, dazed and whimpering at the night sky.
“Excellent job, Timburr,” N said. “Jump back and use Bide!”
With a huff of acknowledgement, the timburr did as he was told. He leapt backwards, moving until he stood next to his block of wood. Then, he reached down, grabbed it, and planted it square-side-down onto the pavement with a thud. With it as his shield, the timburr knelt on one knee, shut his eyes, and began to hum. A soft, red light ebbed from his grayish-brown skin, but otherwise, he did absolutely nothing. Nothing to strike at Jack while he was vulnerable. Nothing to bulk himself up. Nothing but kneel and wait.
Suddenly, Door felt Geist’s arms wrap around her shoulders.
“Door,” he said urgently, “listen to me. Don’t attack. Do you see that red aura? That’s an energy net. If you strike it, Timburr will absorb damage and translate it into energy to feed that net. After a certain amount of time, that energy will explode outward, and Jack will take more damage than the amount he would have inflicted on Timburr. In other words, Bide is an extremely dangerous attack, and the only way to avoid being struck by it is to not strike in the first place.”
She squirmed in his grip. “I know how Bide works!” she yelled. “I’m Professor Ironwood’s assistant, remember?! Bide’s so simple, I’ve seen seedot use it!”
“I’m just trying to help you,” Geist protested.
“Well, don’t! I’ve already got a plan!” Door said.
Then, squirming out of his embrace, she took a step forward and looked down at her oshawott. In the time Geist had been spending explaining Bide to Door, Jack had managed to pick himself up, but he didn’t look like Scout after Tympole’s first Round. Jack wasn’t calm and unshaken; he was panting. He was bent over. Door could see bruises through his blue fur. And that was all after just one Low Kick. She set her jaw and squinted first at her pokémon and then at the meditating timburr. Her plan would have to be done delicately.
“Jack, Tail Whip!” Door cried.
Without a single question, her oshawott obeyed. He jumped, turning in the process so his backside faced the timburr. Looking over his shoulder, Jack shook his hips, wagging his bulbous, stub-like tail back and forth as quickly as he could while barking rhythmically. Door looked up to watch the timburr intently, and to her relief, one of the fighter’s eyes slid open. His gaze fixed on the tail, and his tight frown wavered ever so slightly. This was it. The timburr’s guard was lowering.
“Again!” she ordered. “Give it all you’ve got, Jack!”
Once more, the oshawott wagged his lower body. He took gradual steps backwards, inch by inch, as he presented his tail to the timburr. The timburr, meanwhile, shifted on his knee, struggling desperately to focus on maintaining Bide. But a minute later, his hum became a wavering, desperate cry, increasing in volume and pitch until it grew to a screech. And then, the net gave out, bursting outward in all directions. The red light washed over Jack, but he whirled back around to face his opponent as if nothing had happened. Throwing a look over his shoulder, Jack extended one of his paws to give his trainer a thumb’s up.
And then, Door couldn’t help but grin. “Jack! Tackle!”
Jack barked and threw himself forward. The timburr was too close, too fresh from Bide to dodge, so all he could do was look on as the oshawott came closer and closer. He couldn’t even throw his hands up to cushion the blow as Jack plowed directly into his chest. At once, the timburr’s legs gave out, and he was thrown like a ragdoll back into the pavement with Jack on top of him. Once they landed, Jack planted a paw on each of his limbs to pin him to the ground.
“Good job, Jack!” Door said. “Now use Water Gun!”
“Timburr, fight back!” N called. “Low Kick!”
N’s timburr squirmed beneath Jack, but the otter held him down fast. No matter how much the timburr tried to jerk one of his legs free, the oshawott kept both of them pinned to the ground. Perhaps realizing he was trapped, his eyes widened and locked onto Jack’s face, and the oshawott’s lips curled into a wide smirk in return. Jack inhaled deeply, puffing up his chest and even rising a little on all fours while N’s timburr thrashed and howled. And then, at last, Jack exhaled, spewing another jet of water directly into the timburr’s face.
“Timburr, return!” N shouted as he lifted his pokémon’s ball into the air.
Like the others, the timburr didn’t resist. He merely vanished in a haze of red light, only to be drawn back into the poké ball. The moment Jack felt his opponent vanish from beneath him, he cut off his attack, rose to his feet, and swiveled around to face his trainer. A proud smile stretched across his face, and he barked, as if to ask her for her approval. Door walked forward and bent down to scoop her pokémon up into the crook of one arm. She used her other hand to pet his back as she stood. Part of her hesitated to smile or congratulate Jack, but the other part of her was elated. Sure, she may have lost control of Scout, but this time around, she did it. Jack was perfect, and she was in complete control. She knew exactly how powerful her oshawott was, and she acted accordingly. That meant she knew what she was doing—that she could do this without a Companion and that she wasn’t just some slightly-above-rookie trainer. She was
competent.
So with that in mind, she let herself smile and hug her oshawott.
“You were awesome out there, Jack. Good job,” she said.
The oshawott trilled in return and nuzzled her cheek. At this, N cocked his head and half-turned away from Door.
“Your oshawott,” he said. “He’s telling me that he’s proud to have made you happy. It’s curious, really.”
“Not that curious,” Hilda replied. “You can’t be doubting the idea that trainers and pokémon can have meaningful relationships after all we’ve been through.”
He chuckled. “No, Hilda. Of course not. I’ve known you for far too long. But…” His smile faded, and he cast a glance back to Door. “I just find it curious.”
A flicker of rage ignited in Door’s chest, and she scowled at N. “Why do you ‘find it curious’?” she asked, her last words dripping with venom.
“Although I cannot hear the voices of false pokémon, I can see how a trainer acts towards them,” N replied. “All pokémon, real or not, still have hearts. This cannot be denied. You should pay attention to them when they tell you something important, especially if it’s about how they feel. This is the only way you’ll be able to bond with your pokémon and grow as a trainer.”
“Excuse me?” Door snapped. “I listen to all my pokémon! What, is this about how Scout lost control? Because that’s not my fault.”
“No, it wasn’t,” N agreed, “but you didn’t—”
“What N is trying to say,” Hilda interrupted, “is that one of the most important things about being a trainer is being aware of both a pokémon’s physical
and emotional states. It’s no use trying to force a pokémon to battle when it’s struggling to control its emotions. Your watchog might have been ready to battle physically, and sure, I’m certain it was ready to rip another pokémon apart, but in that kind of state, it’s entirely uncontrollable. When your watchog lost it, you couldn’t guarantee that your commands would get through to him, and he could have done serious damage. You did a lot better with your oshawott, but that’s because you’re in tune with him.”
She walked forward, her posture and expression relaxed and forgiving. Door didn’t move; she merely furrowed her eyebrows as her idol approached her and reached for her oshawott.
“May I?” Hilda asked.
The champion didn’t wait for a response. In the next moment, she pulled Jack out of Door’s arms and into her own, and she cradled the oshawott in one arm like a baby. Her other hand drifted up and began rubbing Jack’s stomach, which elicited happy barks and flailing limbs from the oshawott.
“He feels so warm,” Hilda observed. Then, looking up, she locked eyes with Door. “Let me guess. You’re more in tune with real pokémon than fake ones, aren’t you?”
Door stiffened and stared at the champion for a few beats. Then, she frowned and looked away, opting to fix her eyes on a spot on the road. Hilda’s shoulders slumped, and she shot Door a quizzical look. Then, after a heavy sigh, she glanced up at Geist instead.
“Geist, was it?” she asked. “Am I right about your partner?”
The Companion folded his hands behind his back and exhaled. “It wouldn’t be appropriate to answer on my trainer’s behalf,” he said.
Hilda gave him a small smile. “It’s okay. We’re all friends here, and I’d like to help Door as much as possible.”
Without moving her head, Door crossed her arms and glanced at Hilda. She didn’t say a word. She only waited for Geist to respond.
“Well,” he said. “It’s true. Door feels uncomfortable with fake pokémon.”
“Companions too, am I right?” Hilda asked.
“I’m afraid so.”
The champion cocked her head and gave him a wry smile. “Kinda figured, looking at you.” She straightened her posture and glanced at Door. “You know, though—and this is a tip that’s meant in general, not just in the case of Companions—the most valuable thing you can have on a journey is a friend. Don’t discount someone’s support, just because they’re robotic. N is right. Even fauxkémon can feel, on a level. Companions too, and both only want to help you on your journey.”
Hilda gently placed Jack on Door’s shoulder. Door tilted her head away from the oshawott to give him room, but she couldn’t look the champion in the eye. She couldn’t even speak. In her chest, that hot bubble of rage was back, and it was taking all her willpower not to snap at Hilda King over it. She wanted so badly to tell her all the reasons why she thought fauxkémon and Companions were creepy. She wanted to tell Hilda King about how she was the granddaughter of Halcyon Labs’ CEO and that she hated how much Companions and fauxkémon dominated her life. She wanted to tell her about Opal’s over-enthusiasm and how annoying it was to have Geist give her advice on things she already knew. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t because all of this would be inappropriate to tell the champion of Unova, the one woman she had looked up to for most of her life. So she remained silent and shaking as she reached up and pressed Jack to her shoulder. Hilda, seemingly unaware of Door’s discomfort, scratched Jack under the chin and smiled at them both.
“Give it some thought,” she said. “But if you ask me, Geist is worth listening to. He had a lot of great advice in that battle there. I have no doubt he’ll have great advice for you when you challenge the Nacrene Gym.”
Door gave her an uncertain look. “How … how did you know?”
Hilda smiled. “Why else would a trainer be in Nacrene City?” Then, her smile faded slightly, and she lifted her chin. “Word of advice, though. The gym leader of Nacrene City is the granddaughter of Lenora Hawes, one of the toughest gym leaders I’ve ever had the pleasure of battling. You’d better believe that she made sure her granddaughter’s just as tough as she was. The entire Hawes family was always like that. Smart both on the battlefield and off, and hard as nails either way.” She lowered her chin and stared deep into Door’s eyes. “Which is to say, don’t let your guard down in Nacrene Gym. N gave you a taste of what to expect. Got it?”
At that, Door nodded, and when she spoke, her voice was low and soft. “Thanks.”
Hilda’s smirk returned, and she snorted out a small laugh. Her hand moved up to stroke Jack’s head once before she turned and started walking away.
“And think about what I said about friends on your journey,” Hilda added, her voice raised slightly. “Just because they’re not flesh and blood doesn’t mean they’re not valid, okay?”
“O-okay,” Door replied. “I’ll think about it.” It was a lie, of course, but she wasn’t about to tell the champion of Unova the truth.
Luckily, Hilda didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she grinned and bowed her head, then lifted a hand to wave at Door.
“Atta girl,” she said. “N and I had better get going. Places to be and all. Don’t you worry, though. I’m sure we’ll see each other again. Until then, take care, good luck, and don’t forget what I said.”
“I-I won’t,” Door replied. “Thanks, Miss King.”
Hilda threw a glance over her shoulder with a smile. “Hilda. Please.”
Door responded with her own awkward smile as she said, “Hilda.”
With that, Hilda gave Door one last grin over her shoulder and walked away. N cast his own gaze towards the young trainer, with a steely-eyed expression that made Door shudder, before falling into step beside Hilda. Door stood, watching them silently until they disappeared around a bend in the High Line, and then, she relaxed her shoulders and shut her eyes for a moment.
That is, she shut her eyes until Jack began vibrating. Door’s eyes snapped open, and she looked at her pokémon, just in time to see him take on a brilliant, white glow. Her eyes widened, and she pulled Jack off her shoulder and held him out at arm’s length. She felt the heat of his evolution, the way his body stretched and grew heavier with every passing second, and she watched as he grew longer, as his fur grew wilder, and as his limbs grew lankier. Eventually, she had to put him down, and when she did, she stumbled backwards several steps until Geist caught her. All the while, she couldn’t take her eyes off Jack. Not until the white light burst, and he threw his head back and bayed. And there, right where her starter had been, was a taller, leaner otter. A dewott.
Jack snapped his eyes open and his head forward, and he regarded his trainer with a confident growl. She, meanwhile, couldn’t speak, but her Companion could.
“Dewott,” he recited. “The discipline pokémon. Scalchop techniques differ from one dewott to another. It never neglects maintaining its scalchops.”
As if to illustrate, Jack plucked one of the shells off his hip and twirled it in his paw. When he raised it to eye level, he grabbed its hinge and brandished it like a sword. His trainer straightened, eyebrows rising a little more until she smirked and crossed her arms.
“Well, I’ll be,” she said. “You look awesome, Jack.”
The dewott barked, twirled his shell, and clipped it back onto his hip without taking his shining eyes off his trainer. Her smirk widened in response.
“So. Hilda says Nacrene’s gym leader is tough,” Door continued. “Ready to see how tough she is?”
Jack barked one more time, prompting Door to start for the pokémon center.
“Great! First thing in the morning, bright and early, right at sunrise, let’s take on the Nacrene Gym!” Door said.
She marched to the pokémon center doors with her dewott barking and jogging behind her. Meanwhile, her Companion touched his temple briefly, stopped, and flung his hand up to signal his partner to stop.
“Door!” he called “Wait! There’s something you need to know about the Nacrene Gym! It—”
She walked right into the pokémon center without even stopping to look back at Geist. For all intents and purposes, she simply acted as if he hadn’t said anything at all. Realizing she was ignoring him, Geist lowered his hand and sighed.
“It … doesn’t open until ten,” he muttered.
—
> CORE5.txt
> Author: Lanette Hamilton
> Notes: From the audio research notes of Lanette Hamilton. Transcript only; sound file has been lost. File transcribed by Bebe Larson.
LANETTE: —16:24, follow-up on Project Galatea, re, hardware configuration. Today’s OS tests revealed that a significant amount of RAM is needed for our purposes. Solution: divide and conquer. We’ll use a multi-core system, with each core containing a separate drive dedicated to specific processes. One will be dedicated to necessary software for bodily movement; the other will be dedicated to storing data, backups, and software needed to support the LFA system. I’ve named these the digital and memory cores, respectively, for clarity’s sake.
For the time being, I’m housing the LFA system in a third core of its own. The last thing I want is to put too much weight on the memory core and risk shutting down the connection. If that happens … well, it wouldn’t exactly mean that everything will be for naught, but it would be rather inconvenient, considering the entire point of Project Galatea and all.
Also, I suppose I should make it official. These cores aren’t really motherboards, although I think the best way to describe them would be to call them such. They’re more like … well, it’s something else entirely. Super motherboards, if you will. Something that I thought I had designed to withstand the strain of the LFA system and unit management on its own, but … well, here we are.
[clears her throat] So. Official definition. Core: noun, spherical components within an android unit, equivalent to the motherboard. Each core takes on a specialized function that works in perfect balance with the others to create a complex system that both enables the unit to function and allows them to operate at the speed of human thought, even when not engaged with the LFA.
[pause]
Okay, that’s terrible. Revise later.
[end recording]
Glad you liked it~!
