CHAPTER 320

Getting to the address Mallory Ryan had provided me had been tough. First I'd needed to catch a ride from a Kadabra, and to get one as soon as possible, I asked to be sent to Sunyshore. It was easier to get one the less distance I had to travel, given that it took less energy of them and they could get back to whatever they'd been doing at the League quicker. Had I not been privileged after saving the world, this single step would have been impossible.

The reason it was necessary, however, was because the Lily of the Valley Island was still on lockdown. Mallory sending one of the Teleporters on her payroll wasn't allowed; they would instantly get pinged by one of the many other psychics keeping track of every inch of the island, and as it stood, the League was still in 'attack first and ask questions later' mode. The Kadabra had brought me to one of the Pokemon Centers— this one close to the boardwalk. Ten minutes away from here, the destruction Team Galactic had brought would be on full display. Inside were many trainers and their Pokemon in lower spirits than usual. There wasn't much to be happy about these days. I'd had no time to get dressed properly, so I was still wearing my usual t-shirt and jeans; I had thrown a hoodie on top to hide my face while needing to hide my presence in Sunyshore.

Moments later appeared a Pokemon I'd never seen before, yet I knew littered the caves of Unova and once Orre, occupying similar niches as the Zubat line. His body was covered in soft, velvety fur, primarily a deep shade of cobalt blue, and the glow of his heart-shaped nose faded in line with his powers. The second I saw the Swoobat quietly pop into existence in the sky above the Pokemon center, I knew he had come for me, so I gestured and waved until I was spotted. One could rarely mistake such purpose in a being's eyes. The flying type glided down toward me, nearly bumping into the Pokemon Center's Pokeball sign glowing faintly in the night in the process; he was quite the clumsy flier, I noticed, but it looked like he could at least Teleport properly. I scanned the surroundings looking for a trainer, but found none. Swoobat had come alone.

MY APOLOGIES, HONORED ONE, Swoobat spoke— yelled telepathically. I'd never heard a psychic be so loud. The closest to this was Jasmine's Metagross. I AM HERE TO TELEPORT YOU TO JUBILIFE. I HAVE BEEN INSTRUCTED TO… he trailed off. UH OH. WHAT HAVE I BEEN INTRUCTED TO DO AGAIN? RIGHT! RIIIIIIGHT! TO TELL YOU THAT IF YOU WISHED TO TURN BACK, NOW WAS THE TIME! THIS IS YOUR FINAL OPPORTUNITY! The bat heartily flapped his wings, as if he had not told me the most ominous thing he could have said before this tense meeting.

It did make me hesitate a little bit. I didn't think Mallory would do anything drastic like attack me, or whatever— and if the impossible happened and she somehow did this, Buddy would wipe the floor with anyone she could bring— but I did think she was the kind to make a social situation as uncomfortable as possible, which would possibly lead into an argument.

And arguments… well, when I had one with Maylene's dad I defaulted to trying to kill him.

Still, I was not deterred.

"Can we just hurry? I don't want to be seen," I said, pulling the top of my hood down. The longer I stood around here, the more likely this became, especially with Swoobat being such a bad flier attracting attention.

Swoobat grinned, revealing sharp teeth. I'M GLAD. I AM INTRIGUED IN YOU, HONORED ONE. YOU CAN UNDERSTAND US, AFTER ALL— he bumped into a passerby, who told me to watch it as if Swoobat was my Pokemon. YOU WATCH IT! Swoobat hissed, throwing out a few vocal insults. Hearing my transporter calling someone's mother a whore had not been on my bingo card for tonight. AS I WAS SAYING, YOUR CAPABILITY TO UNDERSTAND MY KIND IS OF GREAT INTEREST TO ME AND MY PARTNER! NOW, LET US BE ON OUR WAY!

By the time we finished that sentence, we were somewhere else. I was greeted by high ceilings adorned with an elegant chandelier that cast a warm, golden light over the intricate wooden flooring. Not very unique as far as decorations went, but it made me feel like I was in another world. This place was even more luxurious than the condo Cece and I were staying in and I immediately felt underdressed. Swoobat dropped to the ground and decided to hop forward instead of flying around, possibly out of fear of breaking something, and he told me to follow.

Jazz music that Swoobat hummed to softly played throughout the apartment as he led me forward. Each room I passed by or through was the apex of what money could bring you in Jubilife. It was as if every detail in the apartment, from the recessed lighting to the rich wood flooring, to each extravagant painting that looked like it had been plucked out of a modern art museum, had been meticulously chosen to appear as opulent as possible. There were a few security cameras in corners, which was not ideal; I was being recorded. Sometimes I'd catch a glance of a window, each with its own stunning view of the city that would have made Cece stare for hours. This must have been one of Mallory's apartments; she had a few in Veilstone, but one here, which she picked as our place of meeting. As Sinnoh's most famous and popular news anchor, she could afford it. I knew that this wouldn't have made most of my friends even turn their heads, though.

But I was led into… not a living room, but something akin to it.

WELCOME TO THE ROOM WHERE MANY CONVERSATIONS WHILE BROODING OVER THE CITYSCAPE CAN TAKE PLACE! Swoobat said, sweeping the place with his wing. AN ACTIVITY RICH HUMANS ARE VERY VERY VERY FOND OF!

The two who caught my eye— because there were two people here— were Mallory and an old man slightly hunched over. Mallory, as usual, had her short, dark brown pixiecut. She sat on a couch in a fancy glittering dark blue one-piece dress with her legs crossed as she sipped on some white wine. There was another couch free, facing the same massive window Mallory was, but the man was standing. He stood slightly taller than Denzel, draped in flowing robes of muted brown with a golden cloak draped around his shoulders and a tall, cumbersome-looking hat. A thick, white beard flowed down to his neck, hiding the lower part of his mouth, and he had a large, round nose with a twinge of red from irritation. Swoobat hopped toward him like an excited child, forgetting his quest to not knock anything over. He bumped into a counter and the couch before reaching his apparent trainer, who lowered himself with a tired grunt carrying the weight of aching bones to scratch the flying type's neck.

"Ah, Grace! The girl of the hour!" Mallory had turned my way, her smile mildly unsettling. "Come, come, sit!" She motioned me her way, and I hesitantly followed. "Thank you for taking me up on my offer. I know I didn't make it easy for you, but the topic we're about is important, don't you think? Do you want anything to drink? I have water or juice. Soft drinks, too."

"No thanks," I dryly responded, plopping myself down on the free couch. The city unfolded below me like a tapestry, and I could hear its sound faintly reaching the window; the occasional honking of a car or someone yelling. "Wait, where are my manners. Um," I quickly shot back up and faced the older man. "I'm—"

"Grace Pastel, yes," he interrupted, then slowly gestured toward Mallory. His voice was gentle, yet stern. Weathered, perhaps, yet it was clear that he spoke with purpose as well. He carried with him an accent reminiscent of Cece's before she'd absorbed Sinnoh's way of speaking. "I've heard many stories about you from our dear benefactor."

Mallory laughed, a sultry and admittedly pleasant sound. "You flatter me, Rood." Then, she turned my way. "Rood was originally here to thank me for one of my donations to their political party— my largest to date, but he jumped at the occasion to meet you once I said you would visit. He even extended his stay!"

Swoobat snorted unpleasantly and glared. The old man stroked his beard in contemplation, and I honed in on his displeasure instantly. He had been either caught off-guard by this, or did not want me to know about the circumstances of his visit, or both. Maybe he wanted me to feel more important than I already was. Flatter was one of the many keys to get what you wanted from someone.

"As I said, I'd heard about many of your feats," the so-called Rood said. "Ah, but I forget myself. My name is Rood Vaughan, and I am a Sage of the Plasma Organization. Think of it as one of their guides or leaders. It is a pleasure to meet you."

He outstretched his hand, and I shook it. The grip was weak, yet I felt a jolt of electricity up my arm. His skin was dry and wrinkly. Now that he faced me, I noticed the emblem on his chest, tying the golden cloak together around his shoulders. A black and white shield with a blue 'P' and 'Z' linked together.

It hit me all at once.

They wanted something from me, and the knives were out. They wanted to use me, perhaps each for a different goal, and I wanted to use them as well. This wasn't just a conversation, this was a fight for my survival in the mud. There was a tingle in my hands, the need to clench at something; a subtle sharpening of my senses; the hair on my neck and arms stood on end and I gulped.

Here, for a moment.

Here, at one of the highest points of Jubilife.

I found a story. I found purpose. I was alive again! This was a battle; there were three sides to it, and I was the only one blind to its ramifications. My back was against the wall. Mallory had the power to leak this and ruin my relationship with Poketch. If it had only been her, I could have escaped with only a flesh wound, but now with one of the leaders of Plasma in the room if this got out I would lay not only defeated, but dead. A corpse bleeding out on the floor, beaten by her betters. Those had to be the stakes. They had to be, because then I could actually feel this fire in my heart. The prickling sensation along my skin; the sweat building up on my palms; the rush of adrenaline; the realization that I was utterly outplayed and cornered. These were the drums of war, of blood and iron, and by the Legendaries, I had missed its rhythm.

Finally. My worries had been confirmed. I was a weapon. Conflict drove me. Conflict meant a story with me at its center. A story meant purpose. Purpose was to me now as oxygen was to my body. No, it was worse. So bad you could get drunk on it.

But I could not get ahead of myself. The Sharpedo were circling, and the ambush I'd been led into had left me bleeding. I had lost the first engagement before even knowing there was going to be a fight in the first place.

"You could have met Zinzolin too, but I'm afraid he had to make himself scarce yesterday when Sinnoh's airspace opened again. A shame that he left, really," Mallory continued with a threatening smile. "I truly apologize for not being able to warn you about Rood's presence. I am aware this puts you in a bind."

So they truly weren't on the same side, somehow. There was a conflict of interest, and I was the only one blind to it. Not wanting to be out of my depth, I nodded and decided to go on the attack. "I would have liked a warning. And you know what, can I take you up on that drink offer?"

Her stare sharpened. Did she think me a fool, to gloat and bare her ill will toward Rood right in front of me? Her smile softened, and she uncrossed her legs. "What do you want?"

I couldn't overplay my hand. "Just some tea, if you have some? I've become a big fan over the last few months— any tea is fine." I did like tea, but the water reaching a boiling point meant the kettle would make some noise. I'd be able to figure out when she was done. If she took too long to come back, I'd know she was trying to eavesdrop, and water took a bit to boil. Plus, I had a good view of the way toward the kitchen.

Accepting her first loss, Mallory got up and calmly walked toward her kitchen. The size of her apartment would play in my favor here, but I couldn't rest on my laurels just yet. Mallory, I knew a little about. I knew she wanted to abolish trainers; I knew she represented the biggest extremes of Plasma; I knew she was genuinely interested in me, and so while she would step on my toes, she wouldn't try to sabotage these talks to the point of getting me to leave. Blackmail and threats were just that, an idea of what could go wrong. If I fucked up, she would use it, but she wouldn't just throw me under the bus for no reason. She'd have to be certain there would be no avenues to cooperate with me.

Rood was a blank slate, one whose blade has still not been dirtied from the battle. The old man had stayed quiet after our introduction, content to listen and observe with his hands behind his back while his Swoobat rubbed on the side of his legs in-between joyous snorts. Mallory being gone was my opportunity to figure him out. No doubt the woman thought she'd just listen back to the footage on her own time, which was why she hadn't minded stepping away.

A mistake, in my opinion. It was as if I did the same for a Gym Battle, thinking I'd just watch the video of my loss afterward. Yeah, I'd learn, but I had still lost.

"So," I eagerly began. "What is it that you want from me, Rood?"

"Straight to the point," he said, clearly amused. "As you age, you'll learn to appreciate the scenic route to things."

"I mean, from what I understood, your fellow Sage Zinzolin left before you did, meaning that you're clearly interested." I'd been sitting on the couch with an arm over the armrest, meaning that the wrist Mimi was on was hidden. I quietly tapped them on the side of the couch to wake them up until they shivered in annoyance. "Obviously you've heard that I can talk to and understand Pokemon, as you've said, but what are you hoping to do with that knowledge?"

Rood slowly ambled toward the window, and he observed Jubilife at night. "A wonderful city, don't you think?"

This was clearly leading somewhere. "Yes."

"So small. It is a quaint little city." Finding Jubilife small of all things was something only a Unovan would say. "I have to say, from my time here, Sinnoh is quite the humble region. I have appreciated my stay, even in these dire circumstances. You have my sincere condolences for what these 'Galactic' terrorists have done."

I nodded, taken aback by the warmth in him. "Thanks. I—It's been a tough time for all of us."

He swept his hand toward the city below. "Mallory… Mallory would have us tear all of this down; that is her ultimate goal," he continued. "You would be hard-pressed to find someone in Plasma who would go that far; we simply fight for Pokemon liberation." Swoobat crooned at that word. Liberation. "Mallory has been a staunch ally in the fight for Pokemon, but I fear she loses the forest for the trees sometimes. I am sorry she forced your hand." There was a small smile behind his beard. "But I did not find it fit to stop it. The opportunity here was too interesting to pass and as she likely thinks, the fact that you have not left running as soon as you saw me or the cameras means that this is something you truly believe in. I find that admirable. To be willing to lose much for your goals."

Here were go. I braced myself for the first bout; the moment friendly small talk would turn into a game of pushing and pulling. He let around ten seconds pass, no doubt allowing the pressure to build. Occasionally, he would glance toward the hallway leading to the kitchen.

"Ah, but I need to make sure you are worth your salt, first," Rood said. "A little test for you. Swoobat, if you will."

The bat beamed, happy to help his trainer. With a wink, Swoobat told me that if I wanted to steal anything from Mallory on my way out, he would Teleport it with me. I said no, of course, and quickly relayed the message to Rood, who I assumed got confirmation from the psychic through telepathy.

His eyes widened. "Fascinating. All of my life, I've given to this cause and tried to find like-minded people, yet this is only the second time I've seen someone like you. Someone who can truly hear Pokemon, even if they are strangers."

My nails dug into the couch, but I caught the tic and just hummed nonchalantly, as if I was intrigued and not utterly bewitched by this revelation. He must have wanted to gauge my reaction too, from the beat of silence that he allowed to pass as his gaze washed over me like a thousand needles. I called to Mesprit using my mind, asking if they had anything to do with this— some kind of half shard business they hadn't told me like Chase and Cece.

Nope, the God immediately answered. I've got nothing to do with this, if he's telling the truth! Mesprit snickered, signaling they already knew. You should have used your empathy to tell, Grace! C'mon, get your head in the game! This is the most exciting thing that's happened to you since you've been back from the Distortion World!

Right. Right, he could have been lying. I didn't want to rely on empathy if I could; if possible I wanted to be able to tell what people thought and felt and wanted by just looking at them. Like Gardenia. But given that the stakes were so high, maybe…

Was that a lie? I asked Mesprit.

Well now it's less entertaining if I tell you. Figure it out on your own, if you want to be such a goody two shoes! Hmph!

The whistling of the tea kettle in the distance eventually centered me before I could make my decision.

"Really? That's interesting," I said. "Are they another member of your party—"

"Ah, welcome back, Mallory," he said, facing the nearby hallway.

We heard her steps before we saw her. "I got you camomille," she said, lifting a ceramic cup. She looked frayed, but not beaten. "I hope you like it, I'm not that big on tea. I have to drink at least four coffees a day to survive, though."

When I grabbed the cup and thanked her, a realization hit me like a bucket of cold water while she and Rood continued their small talk about coffee (the old man was convinced it was a vice).

Was this why he'd waited so long? Spoken so slowly? So he would get something out of me, but not me out of him? From how long an answer had taken to come out, he could have easily told that not only I did not know someone else like me, but that I hadn't expected it to be possible in the first place. Yeah, I'd gotten information too— that out there someone else like me existed— but again, it could have been a lie, and even if it wasn't, he had gotten the better deal. Internally, a curse rang in my head. I was rusty. It had been a while since the politicking of Poketch.

A second loss. I couldn't let it get to three. Three felt significant, somehow. As if he'd have too much leverage in the conversation and even Mallory would be able to twist my arm. Remember, this is a story. It would be too obvious to have me lose here; an opportunity would arrive soon. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was insane, but at this point I was too deep into it to care.

I eyed the news anchor, who was also still reeling from her loss. She was far easier to read. Prickly, tense, and using their stupid argument about coffee to feel like she was at least winning something. We all knew this small talk was only a break from the fighting. We'd all traded barbs; now was the time for the second bout.

Taking the lead was a risk, but I had to trust Mallory would catch onto what I was doing.

I blew on my tea a few times. "Smells good." A meaningless filler meant to garner attention, and it worked. Both of my opponents were looking at me, now. "So, Mallory. Tell me how you and Rood met. If that's okay, of course!"

It was an attempt at an olive branch. If she knew any better, she'd take it. It wouldn't be wise to weaken our standing and allow Rood to get out of here as the sole benefactor to this meeting. The potential reward had increased for me now. I needed to know if this second Pokemon whisperer was real, and if they were, I wanted to know more about them. Knowledge was an invaluable.

She lowered her glass of wine and smirked. "Ah, it's been a while, hasn't it, Rood?"

"Certainly."

Mallory explained that she'd always been against trainers even when she'd been a child, and that she'd involved herself in Pokemon Rights organizations as a teenager and young adult. She'd even met her husband through these and forged a wide net of connections with important people all over Sinnoh. This was all information I already knew from Melody, but I pretended to be fascinated by it.

Maybe that was a little too harsh. The story was interesting. She'd done a lot of volunteer work to rehome Pokemon which had been abused or caught against their wills and released in an environment they hadn't been adapted to live in by trainers too lazy to go back to where they'd caught them, too, so she had done a lot of good for the world. I was simply after something else. We were circling the drain, so to speak.

Unfortunately for her, or at least she thought so, her ideals eventually turned too extreme for many of the groups she'd been a part of, so she quickly looked abroad and found a tiny group of like-minded people in Unova.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"I had only just joined at the time," Rood explained. "We were small, only based in Castelia and without much funding. Mallory had already become one of the largest news anchors in Sinnoh and was our second big political donor, you see. Without her, we wouldn't have grown anywhere as large as quickly. For that, she will always have my eternal gratitude." He inclined his head at her.

"Second?" I asked. "Who was the first?"

I caught the twitch in his eye; the way his hand reflexively moved an inch toward his beard, but then stayed flat against his robes. Rood was difficult to read, but was not infallible. I was only growing sharper as the night went on. He had not expected me to ask that question, and normally I wouldn't have. Second just struck me as an odd thing to say. If they'd had a donor beforehand, why had they stayed small? He'd identified them as big, after all. That meant pulling similar numbers to Mallory.

"I'm afraid they desire anonymity," he said. "You have to understand, Grace, that taking our position publicly, while easier than ten, twenty, thirty years ago, is still liable to ruin your reputation."

"Oh, I understand."

One loss for him, then. Minor, but a loss nonetheless. Mallory just had a smug smile, and I didn't know if it was she liked seeing Rood get some egg on his face or if she knew about this donor as well. Our alliance, while tentative, was still holding somewhat, so I decided not to throw her under the bus and ask her about this mysterious donor. She was the one with the cameras, after all. Chitchat about how Plasma struggled in its early days continued for a few minutes until Mallory moved on the attack as soon as I signaled to her with a look.

"I'm sorry to bring this back up, but I do wonder what I missed while I was gone." She brought a finger to the side of her lip. "Grace looked quite shaken; I hope you weren't mistreating our guest, Rood."

Damn it, she was good to have caught on to what I wanted exactly. Crazy, but good, when she focused. She wasn't known to be merciless in her interviews for nothing. Years upon years of experience had been enough to sharpen her tongue enough for it to be lethal. It was a good thing that the beliefs she could barely hold back without a massive media conglomerate breathing down her neck were a weakness of hers. Honestly, the fact that they let her work for them with these views of her was insane to begin with, but maybe she'd grown too important, so they were stuck with her. It wasn't like she aired those in public, anyway.

"Most of it was just small talk, but Rood actually told me about someone else like me earlier," I said. "Someone who could also speak to Pokemon."

"Ah, yes. Them." That was confirmation they were real, especially with how Rood fucking stared daggers at Mallory, which seemed to reinvigorate her. She was a little like Mars, in that way. While a trap was possible, I sincerely doubted they were coordinating this lie. "A wonderful child your exact age that I've heard many good things about, though I have never been allowed to meet them, even with my many visits to Unova." Mallory tapped a finger on her armrest and lounged there like a lazy Glameow. "They're the reason why I was so intrigued by you when you walked up to Veilstone's Gate with that army of Pokemon behind you. You sounded and looked like what I'd heard about them."

Rood was fiddling uncomfortably with his beard. He'd overplayed his hand! Had he thought I'd never ally with Mallory just because she was fucking insane and he'd tried to tarnish her in my eyes while she was gone? And the best part was that he couldn't even say anything about it, lest he give something else away.

"I could never have imagined that you would, in time, become such a brilliant trainer," Mallory said with stars in her eyes. "We need people like you among us."

Well, all good things came to an end, I supposed. "Brilliant trainers? There are many like me; I don't even have my eighth badge." A soft rebuke first, to steer her away. We could still salvage this, even if she had slighted me.

"But how many can speak to Pokemon, and how many are… at least favorable to our cause?" she asked. "And that's not even speaking about your rate of progress. Who knows where you'll be in three months? Six? A year?"

Why did she have to go there? We had Rood on the ropes, and now we were trading blows! "Generally, you slow down the stronger your Pokemon are," I said, echoing Craig's words. "Why do you even need me for?" Back. Off.

"This world is run by strength above all, is it not? In nearly every single country, it is the most powerful trainer that rules, or at least appears to rule." Mallory's jaw clenched in displeasure. "Strength behind your cause is many things. It is respect; it is credibility; it is legitimacy. That is how the world works. The bigger a monopoly on violence you have, the better shot you have at being heard."

I bit the inside of my lip, knowing that she left me no choice. "The world you're describing where I am a weapon for you to use is a fantasy," I hissed. I wanted— needed purpose, but I was not far gone enough to let anyone use me. "I will not be a tool for you to scare people with or worse. I am certain Rood will agree with me."

Mallory's face fell. She'd expected a rebuttal, and maybe had wanted to drive me into a corner, but she hadn't expected me to run back to Rood for support after she'd given me so much information about this other individual like me. I'd essentially backstabbed her, and the look in her eye let me know that she would never help me again. Another loss for her; bad, since she had control of the cameras. I smelled her tea's aroma and circled a tiny spoon in the cup, as if unbothered.

Inclining his head toward me as a sign of gratitude, the Sage spoke. "We have many young and hotheaded people." The importance he'd put on those words, accompanied by a very obvious stare toward Mallory made his intent known. "Passion is good, but I fear the actions some of them could take if the ban passes this summer."

By that, he meant the banning of their political party in parliament. Cecilia had spoken to me about it a bit, and I had done some research on my own with Jellicent's help.

"It will pass, and it will be buried now that the news can only speak about Sinnoh. The establishment fears us." Mallory sneered and took another swig of wine. "We're surging in the polls! Nowhere near enough to be the largest party yet, but we've gone from a tiny irrelevant group to a sizeable voice with amazing ground game and organization. Why would they ban our party if they weren't scared of us? Terrified that we'd keep growing? We were about to break the fucking dam, forgive my language, and they want to put a— a bit of tape over it and bury their heads in the sand!" She wildly gestured.

Rood audibly groaned, so I followed up to keep her talking. Anything to use her rashness as a weapon against herself. Anchoring myself to Rood was the only way I'd make it through the night. "And what does that mean? Breaking the dam."

The news anchor's face burned alight with passion and she uttered a single word. Quiet, yet solid as steel. "Revolution."

I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. Arguing for revolution while she would be watching from an ocean away in her ivory tower, sipping wine and profiting off of it by reporting on it was insane, yet expected from someone like her.

"Enough of that," Rood growled, sounding a decade younger. "I will not allow blood to be spilled in our streets. For innocents and children to die as collateral damage. Violence is never the answer."

Mallory laughed and clapped her hands. "Oh you bleeding heart. Spare me."

"And who, pray tell, do you think will fight this theoretical revolution." He gestured at me. "Trainers will use their Pokemon as tools of violence! This goes exactly against our core beliefs! The very beings you want to save will die by the tens, hundreds of thousands! Maybe millions." His expression grew grim, and a darkened shadow clouded behind his eyes as if he was visualizing it. Swoobat patted his leg with a wing, and some of the tension left Rood, who took a deep breath. "You think we will put the heads of your enemies at the League on pikes, but war is never so self-contained. Innocents would die and be displaced, and in the wild as well."

"Coward," she hatefully spat. "So you would rather let them ban our cause," Mallory countered. "You would rather allow them to stay the course on hundreds of years of oppression than do what is necessary. Allow me to posit you this." She stood up and began to pace, though maintained a piercing glare toward Rood. "It is the Great War. The Kalosion monarchy bans any dissident voice against the war and imprisons anyone who speaks out. Do you know how it ended? With a revolution, the king dead and Kalos out of the war."

"Apples and oranges," he dismissed her with an irritated rasp in his voice. There was a beat of silence passed, heavy even for me. I did not know who'd won the engagement, but I'd give it to Rood. "And what do you think, Grace?"

"I agree that there is a problem," I said. "I just vehemently disagree with what you think is the cure. And that goes for you as well," I told Rood. It was easier to understand their difference, now. Their agendas. Both believed Pokemon Trainers to be endemic to the issue that Pokemon in society were not treated as equals. They disagreed, however, on how to fix that issue. "It's like, you're both acting like Pokemon themselves don't get a say in this."

"A common rebuke," Rood said. "I can assure you, we both know that different Pokemon will have different needs and wants."

"Despite all of this, they are victims who have been brought up in the same society that we have. Many of them think that this is all normal despite—"

Rood softly clicked his tongue, as if to tell her she would find no companion in that line of thinking. Not here, at least. "One cannot deny that ripping away Pokemon from their trainers would be a traumatic experience. Not only would it be impossible without a war we could not win even with all of Unova's resources behind us, but it would be morally wrong." Mallory whispered that they just lacked the will for it. He ignored her. "This is why I argue for a more sensible position. The banning of catching new Pokemon, effective immediately."

Damn it.

He was better than her. He really was. And I was sure I would enjoy speaking to him about many things.

But at the end of the day he was cut of the same cloth. Plasma was no good for me.

"It would allow us decades of leeway to learn how to work with wild Pokemon as equals, along with slowly adapting the state to function without their labor, yet it would not upend society in an apocalyptic manner. It would allow the trainer class to naturally die out over the decades," he continued. "Though I can tell this disappoints you, Grace. A shame."

"Yeah," I just said. When I imagined future generations unable to experience the sheer love I had with my own Pokemon, it filled my chest with so much anger. "Yeah, I think you're both full of shit. And it pains me, because— because you're so close to being— to being workable with, Rood. You seem like such a kind and passionate man at heart."

The man exhaled. "I could say the same. By His Truth, this was such a wasted opportunity. I wish I could understand how you could hear the voice of Pokemon and not think the same as us. Not think the same as them."

Them. That mysterious figure again. Biting my lip, I put my face in my hands and sighed.

"I gotta go to the bathroom. Where is it?" I quickly asked.

"Ah, Swoobat knows," Mallory said. "He can bring you."

"Nonsense. You should trust your guests, Mallory." Rood looked to still be willing to cooperate even though we'd come at an impasse.

That was exactly what I'd hoped for.

I wanted more from this, but first I had to do this test. After Mallory directed me to the nearest bathroom, I left Mimi on the couch in their bracelet form and made my way there. The truth was, I didn't need to go at all. I just needed to see if Rood would stab me in the back and attempt to discredit me, which was why I'd woken up Mimi from their slumber earlier. I allowed two minutes to pass before I flushed a clean toilet and washed my clean hands, then I came back to Rood and Mallory debating poll numbers. The little steel type had no warning for me, so I knew we were in the clear.

Supposedly with the election this October, the Plasma Organization was polling at 14%. That was behind every single mainstream party who I assumed were in the pockets of the corporations, but they were the largest out of the four parties that Cece would call the 'non-establishment'.

Granted, Unova wasn't like Sinnoh. Even 'establishment' parties were a part of the opposition sometimes, and there were a crap ton of parties. I knew of few of their names because Cece would often rant at me about them being beholden to the Conglomerate at the end of the day, even if they all had differing opinions. 14% was actually a huge rise from the paltry 2.3% they'd gotten the previous election, which hadn't even been enough to get any seats in parliament. According to Rood and Mallory, their rise in the polls came in the wake of a series of very public scandals in the Unovan Ranger Corp which were 'worse than usual'. In the Mistralton branch, it was because of the mistreatment of Pokemon in their custody. In the Nacrene Branch, it was due to an aggressive rehoming of Pokemon off the route into a supposed 'Pinwheel Forest' that left many hurt and some dead. A video a nearby trainer (who hadn't been supposed to be here; Rangers had the authority to fully close down areas of a Route in Unova on their own) had filmed had catapulted the story to front-page news.

Well, until a massive rift opened up on top of Coronet, at least.

While I knew there was no way that many people believed in separating trainer and Pokemon, they'd still jumped that high in the polls for whatever reason. I had heard that they were moderating a little publicly, at least, so maybe that was it, but the ban on them would take that out of the picture.

"People always say that it's a few bad apples…" Mallory trailed off with genuine sadness. "Every few weeks, there's an incident that's supposed to be just an exception. They investigate themselves and sometimes fire the culprit or put them in prison, but the entire thing is rotten."

"That, we can agree on," Rood said. "Mark Obel, of all people, will not change anything. He is even worse than cruel, he is a coward who revels in inaction. I never thought I would miss Alder. For all I disagreed with the man, he was better than this."

Silence was my answer. I would not form an opinion on the Rangers until I saw the region for myself; while these incidents had happened, I could not forget that these people were biased. What they were describing was difficult— especially when knowing how good Sinnoh's Rangers were in comparison.

I swallowed. We'd traded blows tonight, and I found him to be a very engaging conversationalist. We were opponents, yet like in every battle, it did not mean I could not learn from this. I warmed my hands against the teacup and leaned forward.

"Why don't you tell me about some of the other things you've seen, Rood?" I slowly asked. Unlike Mallory, he could be objective. "I'm afraid that while I desperately want to help Pokemon, I am severely lacking in the knowledge to do anything about it."

Rood stroked his beard, something that I was quickly learning was a soothing gesture for him. "While you may not be a new party member, it would always be good to have someone of your caliber working to help Pokemon. I can see that you are different."

"Because I talk to Pokemon?" I asked.

"No. I see that look in your eyes, young girl. It reminds me of my father's; he fought in the Last War." Few people used that name for the Great War, for obvious reasons. It implied that it would be the last war ever fought, at least officially. "You have seen much horror and hope for good in the world. Perhaps it is what I want to see, but it is what I see nonetheless."

Rood was an optimistic man at his core. I was learning much about him tonight.

"I—" I hoped that I was like that as well. Desperately. "Yeah."

"It has been… more than two hours of discussion. I'm afraid that like Zinzolin before me, I will have to leave. I have a flight to catch early tomorrow." Rood chuckled. "I assume that some will be greatly pleased with this."

Mallory was already salivating at the prospect of getting me alone to try to turn me over to her side. "Don't worry, Grace. I have two more Teleporters on payroll that you can use to get back." She'd downed her wine by now, but she enjoyed twirling the empty glass around in her hand.

I had not touched the tea I'd had her make.

Despite wanting to leave as soon as possible now that Rood was gone, Mallory still had the footage, and she knew it. She would be able to twist me into some kind of concession before I could leave in exchange for safety. The good thing was that I hadn't lost too much of my standing in the previous conversation. We'd fought, and I'd come out on top enough times for her to respect me. If I'd mishandled the meeting, she might have forced me into—

"Oh, and Mallory," Rood said with a hidden smile. He motioned at one of the cameras in the corner of the room. "Do me a favor and delete all of tonight's footage."

The news anchor nearly fell off her velvet couch. "And why… is that?" she asked, barely containing the surprised rage within.

"You know that I am a private man," he said. "I am not the face of Plasma; I cannot be as outspoken as Zinzolin or Gorm. I fear that I have not behaved as a man worthy of my position as a Sage tonight, with all the arguments and the non-curated narratives— ah, but you know how politics go." Swoobat giggled and jumped on his trainer's back. Somehow, as clumsy as he was, he did so gently as to not hurt Rood's back. "Ah, patience, Swoobat. You must take Grace home, first."

"And what if I refu…" Mallory didn't finish that sentence, as if the thought of going against Rood was unimaginable.

I thought I understood it. They could spar verbally all they wanted, debate theory and theoreticals, but at the end of the day, he was one of the leaders of Plasma and she was just a donor. A donor with influence within the party, of course, but a donor nonetheless. If Rood wanted, he could probably cut her off. It wasn't like they were financially dependent on her any longer, and she needed them. They were more important than donations to her, they were her life's purpose.

The old man simply nodded. "Grace, a little conversation, if you will. Swoobat?"

In-between Mallory's outrage, the psychic's nose glowed pink, and he yelled—

Then everything around us went quiet before my hands could even get to my good ear to take out my hearing aid. It had been painful for a fraction of a second. I knew I was within some kind of sound barrier, but it was different than one Cass would make, for example. Less refined, with less of a defined border between the outside and inside.

"This is a favor I am doing you," he said. "Truth be told, while what I said tonight getting out would not be ideal, it would not hamper our goals much. I would never be so careless."

"Then wh—why? Why do this for me?"

He placed a firm hand on my shoulder. "While I am disappointed this meeting is ending this way, I still wanted to analyze your character tonight. To see if you were as bloodthirsty as your so-called 'battling' showed." He scoffed, squeezing my shoulder a tad, and it was now that I'd realized how close to oblivion I'd stepped. He had watched my battles. Of course he had! Why would he not try to learn everything about me? "While I am appalled at what you make your Pokemon and the Pokemon of others go through, I understand that it is… sport for you all, however misguided that may be. One day, hopefully, you too will see the truth."

I responded with a terse nod, not agreeing but being grateful he was giving me this opportunity.

He took his hand off of me and brought them both behind his back. "All I ask is for you to not speak of the other like you to anyone."

I expected more, like an explanation as to why he did not want this person known, but it never came. "Of course. I owe you."

"Thank you, Grace. Tonight, you showed genuine concern for our plea," he continued. "You showed that you do not follow the path of violence in hopes of fixing things. You showed that you have a good head on your shoulders," I could have laughed at that one, "and that you are a smart and good speaker. So I will let Swoobat take you home. Do not worry, Mallory will not do anything rash. She is young and has the temperament of a Hydreigon, but like all of us, there is good in her heart. She is bitter at a world that has refused her at every turn, and it has only radicalized her more. I will handle her with a gentle hand."

"Th—thank you, Rood."

The Sage smiled, closing his eyes. "Why don't you head on home, then. Teenagers like you need good sleep, and you look like you haven't gotten any in a week."

My ears popped when Swoobat took down whatever he'd done to contain our voices. Mallory looked to be stewing in anger. I wouldn't hear what they were going to talk about, given that Swoobat was already hopping away. It wasn't until we reached the condo's foyer, where he had Teleported me beforehand, that he spoke up again.

SO, Swoobat wondered. WHAT DID YOU THINK?

I shook my head in disappointment. "I learned a lot, you know. A lot of statistics and horrible, horrible stories that had happy endings because of Rood. His heart is in a good place," a way better place than Mallory's, who just wanted blood and death, "but I still believe he's misguided."

HE THOUGHT YOU MIGHT HAVE COME TO AN AGREEMENT, Swoobat said. HE THOUGHT YOU MIGHT HAVE BEEN LIKE THAT PERSON HE MENTIONED TO YOU. YOUR COUNTERPART. I THOUGHT SO TOO, BUT OH WELL. POBODY'S NERFECT!

I leaned against the wall, staring at one of Mallory's paintings. "Can you tell me more about them?" Then, I raised my hands innocently. "I promise I won't say anything to anyone."

The flying type snorted. YOU'RE GOING TO UNOVA, RIGHT? IF YOU ARE, YOU'RE GOING TO KNOW WHO HE IS VERY SOON— OH CRAP, I REVEALED HIS GENDER! Swoobat jumped around, flapping his wings in a panic. BAH! WHATEVER! YOU'D HAVE FIGURED IT OUT EVENTUALLY. ROOD MADE A CALCULATION WHEN TELLING WHO ABOUT HIS EXISTENCE AND HIS PURPOSE. A GAMBLE THAT IT WOULD GET YOU TO OUR SIDE. YOU BETTER REMEMBER YOUR PROMISE, EVEN IF IT DIDN'T.

"I won't. It's mutually assured… well, it'd be destruction for me, and I assume you guys don't want the world to know he exists yet, or that he's involved with you, so it'd be bad for you too," I guessed. As Rood said, that might ruin his reputation as well, though he still had plausible deniability given that he'd never confirmed this boy to be a part of Plasma, just that he knew him.

WELL HE'LL MAKE A BIG SPLASH, I BETCHA! A BIG SPLASH! Swoobat cackled. Their nose started to glow as they gathered the energy to Teleport. BACK TO SUNYSHORE, I PRESUME?

Before agreeing, I spoke up. "Say, Swoobat. You agree with Rood's ideals wholeheartedly?"

He nodded. YUP!

"Even if it means he'll have to release you if he reaches his goal?"

The bat's concentration wavered for a moment; his wings shivered and he began to cackle wildly until his laugh turned into a snotty-sounding wheeze. SILLY HUMAN! DO YOU THINK I STAY WITH ROOD BECAUSE OF THAT PRISON YOUR KIND CARRIES ON YOUR HIP? He continued speaking in-between coughs, looking at Buddy and Mimi's Pokeballs. I AM WILD, STILL! ROOD'S PLAN DOES NOT MEAN A TOTAL SEPARATION BETWEEN HUMAN AND POKEMON; I WOULD NOT HAVE TO LEAVE HIS SIDE! ONLY WACKOS LIKE ZINZOLIN AND MALLORY BELIEVE IN TOTAL SEGREGATION! WE HOPE TO UNDERMINE THEIR CAUSE EVENTUALLY, BUT WE'RE FORCED TO WORK TOGETHER FOR NOW. UNITED WE STAND, DIVIDED WE FALL AND ALL OF THAT JAZZ. ROOD THINKS TOO WELL OF THEM, HONESTLY. HE SEES GOOD WHERE THERE IS NONE, OR AT LEAST IT WOULD TAKE TOO MUCH WORK TO SQUEEZE IT OUT OF THEM.

Oh. Oh, that made a lot more sense. I disagreed, still, but that was so much more palatable. Still, it was clear from Rood's argument that this would result in so much fewer opportunities for bonds between human and Pokemon to form, and that was in line with his plan. Not because the Pokeball was necessary to that bond (history had shown that wasn't the case; people had been partnering up with Pokemon long before the invention of the first Pokeballs made using apricorns and whatever the hell else). Ignoring the fact that Pokeballs had saved my Pokemon's lives many times, it was his phrasing, which had bothered me. 'Allow the trainer class to naturally die out'. He wanted to phase us out, and from the conversations I'd had with him earlier, he was vehemently anti-battling to the point of believing it to be abusive. Not only my methods of battle, but any battling.

I exhaled in disappointment, remembering that moment. So much for listening to Pokemon; good luck taking battling away from Sweetheart, Princess, Honey or Sunshine.

"To Sunyshore," I said, satisfied.

ALRIGHTY! HERE WE— Their eyes glowed white, and they seized up. Emotional misery encroaches upon you— GO!

"Wh—" we were back in Sunyshore, in front of that same Pokemon Center. "—at?" People spared us a glance, as they usually did when people Teleported nearby, but that was it. The cover of night and the hoodie I was wearing helped keep me hidden. "What did you just say?"

WHAT? Swoobat clumsily blew up, knocking himself into a pole. WHADDYAMEAN?

"Was that a joke? Or do you genuinely not remember? You said misery encroaches upon me—"

OH! OH! THOSE. YEAH, I DO THAT SOMETIMES, he yelled. I WOULDN'T WORRY, THAT'S JUST A TIC. I HAVE A GOOD NOSE; I CAN SMELL ONGOING, PAST, OR FUTURE EMOTIONAL TURMOIL SOMETIMES, BUT IT'S NEVER THAT CLEAR, AND I ALWAYS FORGET! LIKE A FLEETING DREAM! IT'S PROBABLY WRONG! ANYWAY, GOTTA DIP! SEE YA!

I blinked, not knowing what to say, and the bat disappeared into the night.

"Way to make me anxious," I muttered to myself. Mimi vibrated against my wrist. "Yeah, hopefully it's nothing. Better be ready for anything, though." I honestly couldn't think of anything that would cause me turmoil in the future now that Galactic was gone, so it was probably what I was feeling now. Melancholy. "Hey, thanks for helping me out in there. You didn't have to." My hand gently caressed the bracelet, who quietly mewled.

I pulled out my phone, texted my contact at the League and sat on a bench on the opposite sidewalk of the Pokemon Center while I waited. Tonight had been full of twists and turns, and honestly, at the beginning of it all, I'd felt like I'd been fighting for my life. I had carved out a space for myself among those two and gotten out with a deal that was as close to optimal as it could have been thanks to Rood.

And honestly? I was sad that it was over.

Something was wrong with me. I didn't exactly care to fix or even acknowledge it, at the moment. I closed my eyes and reimagined the words full of harm, poison and barbed wire, and what I'd done to counter them.

A/N: I usually wouldn't feel the need to do this because I don't like spelling out things for the readers, but here, just in case: reminder that Grace is an unreliable narrator who puts way too much importance on stories because they make her feel alive and help her think during high stakes situation. She is just a teensy weensy bit insane (very insane).