INTERLUDE - FANTINA

Two children currently sat in Fantina's office. Fantina stared at them both for a few seconds. There was a lot of passion behind those eyes. A drive to improve in Pokemon battling. A drive she had once had, but no longer felt no matter how much she tried to rekindle it. Their drives both felt distinctly different, however. Like fire and ice. Warmth and coldness. Grace Pastel and Mira Compton.

"Apologies for the impromptu meeting," Fantina said. "I have a contest gala to get to in an hour, so we'll make this quick."

"An hour?" Grace said. "Uh, should we maybe reschedule? That doesn't sound like enough time to—"

"Shhhh!" Mira hissed. "I'm not leaving until I get my answers. I've been looking forward to this for months."

"I will make it, do not worry," Fantina said. "I suppose we can start with Grace Pastel, then, since I asked her to come here first."

The blond girl timidly nodded.

"I assume you do not have your Electabuzz with you?"

"No, he's still at the Center," she answered with a slight wince. "Your Doublade did quite a number on him. Do we need him here?"

"Not exactly," Fantina shrugged. "But it would have been easier to ask him questions. Was your Electabuzz owned by someone previously?" She asked.

Grace frowned. "No. I don't think so, at least. I found him hanging around the power plant at Valley Windworks. He was friendly, but I just attributed that to the fact that he was used to humans, since they usually travel between Floaroma and the plant to go to work."

"A sound assumption," the gym leader nodded. "Still, you ought to ask him, but it does not derail the point I wanted to make. How old is he, then?"

"I don't… know? I'd say a few years old at most, he's clearly still a kid."

"Alright, let me explain what I believe happened. When a Pokemon is young— and I mean young, a few weeks old at most, they tend to learn a lot of things very quickly."

Grace hummed, and she seemingly thought of something. "Yeah, I have a young baby Pokemon with me that learned a lot of moves really fast."

"You have a baby? D'aww, how cute!" Mira squealed.

"You see this phenomenon in human children as well. They are knowledge sponges, especially during their first years. Alas, most Pokemon grow up a lot quicker than that. Still, I believe that when your Electabuzz was a newborn, it must have been in constant contact with a ghost for him to learn what they feel like. A process that can only be learned early in a Pokemon's life, unless they are a ghost themselves. Of course, once it is learned, it can be worked on and improved regardless of age."

Fantina watched as Grace silently digested the words she had just spoken.

"Either way, the ability is not always guaranteed. Your Electabuzz would have had to be quite close to this ghost, and it would have had to be quite powerful. It also could not have been a one-off experience. For him to be as good as he is, he would have had to quite literally be with this ghost for his entire infancy."

"He's… he's never told me anything about it. Never even hinted at it."

"Maybe it is a memory he does not wish to revisit, or he is keeping it a secret until he is ready," Fantina said. "Or maybe he simply does not think that it would matter to you."

She muttered something, and her eyes widened. "I've… I've got to go," she hurriedly said before bowing. "Thank you for your time!"

"Oh, nonsense, my dear. I was quite interested in your Electabuzz. He's only one of the few Pokemon I've seen that is capable of sensing ghosts that well."

"Thank you again! Have fun with your contest gala thing!" She said as she ran out of the office.

Well, what an interesting night this had turned out to be, and she was only halfway done. For this girl's Electabuzz to be this good at sensing ghosts, he would have had to be… raised by one from birth, Fantina reckoned. An odd thing to think about, but not impossible. Pokemon were known to adopt children from different species, even in the wild.

Ghosts were hateful, but they were not all a monolith. They were capable of love, too.

"Now, you," Fantina sighed. Mira Compton's ghost had ruthlessly killed her Haunter in their battle, and it had to be disqualified during the fight. Still, she won rather handily. Fantina hoped that she would be there to calm him down whenever he reappeared. "That Haunter of yours. I assume he has been getting worse? You did not expect it to kill mine. I could tell from your face during the battle."

"Well, duh. It's not like I'm on the verge of breaking down because of how impossible he is, or anything," she said, laughing nervously.

Fantina stared at the young girl with pity. Ghosts were Pokemon with an untold amount of potential, but they were also incredibly hard to train. Doing so had brought the gym leader close to multiple mental breakdowns in her youth, and it pained her to see another trainer so close to one of her own.

"Tell me about your Haunter," Fantina said.

"He just hates everything that lives," Mira said. "Wild Pokemon, trained Pokemon, humans… he just wants to torment and kill all of them. I… I don't know how to fix him. It's been getting harder and harder to justify getting him out of his Pokeball. I'm at the end of my rope."

She was sobbing now. Fantina opened one of her drawers and handed her a box of tissues.

"I understand that you are in pain, but that is not what I meant, dear. What is your Haunter like? Is there any particular food he enjoys? Most people do not know this, but even true ghosts are capable of ingesting and tasting things. Does he like to lazily float in the wind? Soak in the sunlight, that can provide them the only warmth they will ever feel? Does he enjoy speaking with the other members of your team, perhaps? What kind of music does he like?"

Mira sniffled and blew her nose. "I don't… I don't know? Arceus, I'm so lame."

"Therein lies the problem. Your Haunter doesn't try to kill you, does he?"

She shook her head.

"Then why not spend more time with him? There is this stereotype where ghosts are supposedly incapable of love, and that they are just bloodthirsty monsters that would do anything to kill, but it is far from the truth," Fantina continued. "They are Pokemon. They are capable of love, of warmth, and of friendship. You simply have to work harder to get them there."

"But I'm— what if he sees another trainer or something. I'm traveling with two people, and he doesn't even know. I haven't told him yet."

"How can you expect your Haunter to be civilized if all you use him for is gym battles?" Fantina asked. "There will always be a risk, but you have your other Pokemon, don't you? If all else fails and you can't get your Haunter back to his Pokeball, they will be there to stop him. You are a good trainer, Mira. Your victory against me today was extremely impressive, despite the hiccup. You should trust your team more. Plus, it should be a good bonding exercise."

"My team hates him, though…" she grumbled. "My Kadabra, especially. My Magnezone wants to fry him every time he's out, too."

"Well, you will have to work something out on that front. You know your team better than I could ever hope to. Every Pokemon is different, including ghosts, but you should try to treat him as you would any other. If you had, let us say, an aggressive Furret, would you keep it permanently restrained to its Pokeball, or would you try to communicate?"

"Communicate."

"Exactly, my dear. Now, I will not mislead you and say this process will be an easy one, but all certainly is not lost like you appear to think."

Mira crumpled her tissue and smiled. "Hey, I just got a really dumb idea just now. Can I tell you?"

Fantina raised an eyebrow. "Sure, I will entertain you."

"Do you think Haunter would like to play catch?"

"Oh, what a wonderful idea!" Fantina laughed. "See? This is what I was talking about! Play games with your Pokemon! Teach Haunter that there is more to life than just killing! And who knows, maybe one day, he'll be your most affectionate Pokemon."

"Thank you, miss," Mira firmly said. "I needed that. By the way, one more question. If I ever succeed at fixing my Haunter's behavior, how would I go about… evolving him?"

Fantina stopped laughing, and her expression grew serious. Her next statement almost came out like clockwork.

"You are not ready."

—

Fantina walked out of her gym and stepped into her car. Some gym leaders enjoyed being driven around by gym trainers, but she had always liked her independence.

There had been such passion behind those two girls. Passion was not always positive. It could make someone jubilant, but it could also drop you into the deepest pit of despair.

"Passion…" she sighed as she drove out of the parking lot. "I used to have it, once."

Growing up in post-war Kalos had been difficult for Fantina. Her father had died in the war— not because he'd been a combatant, but because he was caught in the middle of some kind of infiltration mission gone wrong, or at least that's what her mother had told her growing up. That entire generation— the ones who lived and fought through the war— had been so deeply affected that they were all broken in some way. For Fantina's mother, that was simply a fear of Pokemon so deep that she rarely went outside until her death. Her uncle moved in soon after and took care of them with construction jobs that were dearly needed after the war.

Fantina had a pleasant childhood, all things considered. As pleasant as one of her generation could have had. Despite being a shut-in, her mother loved her dearly and cared for her, while her uncle became a fatherly figure she had desperately needed. She had been terribly lonely, however. She struggled to make any friends due to her eccentric behavior—

Fantina slammed her foot on the break and honked.

"Putain, met ton clignotant!" She swore. "Merde!"

Arceus, she loved Hearthome, but the drivers could leave a lot to be desired. She felt the bottom of her car rattle.

"It's nothing, just the drivers," she sighed exasperatedly.

One day, when walking through the streets of Lumiose city, Fantina almost died.

There had been rumors of children dying in the post-war shanty towns to the south of the city, and as foolish as she had been, she decided to go and check in the middle of the night. She wasn't ashamed to say that she soiled herself when she came across a Gastly in the middle of licking a pale, unconscious teenager. Fantina still remembered it like it was yesterday.

She immediately ran home and never told anyone about it. She had only been eight, so getting berated by her uncle if she admitted what she had seen seemed like a terrible trade-off.

"The morality of children can be awful like that," Fantina chuckled. "But it was that lapse in judgment that allowed my future to take place."

A month later, the rumors stopped, and Gastly was found and driven out of that section of the city. The news said that he'd killed seven people in total— six children and one adult, and yet, as a young girl, she couldn't help but be morbidly intrigued by the ghost. Fantina had felt a pull, begging her to go back and check on him. It took her another six months to find the Gastly again, and Fantina recognized him instantly due to a particular slant he had in his noxious eyes.

With her whole body shivering like a leaf, the first thing she asked of this serial killer ghost was if he wanted to be her friend.

"You were taken aback, weren't you?" The old woman chuckled. She'd always been strange like that. "And yet, here we are now, almost sixty years later."

Of course, it had taken her months for her to actually befriend Gastly. She used to sneak out of her house at night to bring him leftovers or snacks, which the ghost loved, but he still always haunted her on the way home, appearing in the corner of her vision and scaring her enough to make her fall over multiple times. Fantina hadn't cared. She'd vent all about her problems while walking home, and he would listen in silence, occasionally popping in to terrify her when he got bored. They did eventually become friends, though, and he stopped his killings. Sometimes, he'd even go to her house and listen to her worries until she fell asleep. Luckily, her mother never found out, or she would have had a heart attack right then and there.

Fantina parked her car in her driveway and made her way toward her large home. It'd been gifted to her by a judge high-up in the Contest Committee when she had been supposed to retire out of becoming a gym leader. Alas, Cynthia convinced her otherwise, and Fantina was a woman of her word.

Four more years. Well, more like three and a half, now.

"Wait for me," she said as she opened the door.

Fantina stared at the antique wooden clock in her entryway. She had forty minutes to get to her contest, which was ample time to get ready. After all, she wore the same stylish haircut, a similar amount of makeup, and similar dresses every day for work, so doing this had become a routine.

Which meant that she could continue reminiscing about her early days.

When Fantina turned fifteen, she asked Gastly to join her team. The ghost accepted immediately. They had practically been inseparable at this point, after knowing each other for years. She'd wanted to become a Pokemon trainer for as long as she could remember, as many children did. Oh, now she knew that a part of it was heavily crammed into the brains of children in case another war ever broke out and Kalos needed another fresh batch of trainers— especially when they had lost so many during the Great War. The government had wanted the new generation to pick up the slack.

Maybe Fantina just got swept up in the excitement, but she couldn't deny that for more than a decade, she truly lived for Pokemon battling. She spent her entire early career in Kalos, going through their own version of the Circuit many times, gathering as many ghosts as she could in the process. She had built herself quite a negative reputation because of it. When she turned twenty-three, however, she decided that she wanted something new. Things had begun to grow boring, and she figured that a fresh journey in a new region might do the trick.

Fantina had been correct. Not only was her love for battling rekindled once more, but she fell in love with Sinnoh as a whole, but especially Hearthome. It reminded her of Lumiose city in a way that nothing else could. Of course, these days, Lumiose had been completely modernized from the top down. Eventually, she grew to enjoy staying in Sinnoh more than Kalos. Not only that, but the gym in Hearthome was run by a ghost type specialist, just like her!

She went through the Circuit in Sinnoh twice, but it was custom to retire or start working whenever a trainer turned twenty-five. What else to do but become a gym trainer for the Hearthome gym? At this point, she still owned a Haunter. The secrets of evolving one into Gengar were still locked away from her and only known to a few key people.

Sylvestia, her mentor and the previous gym leader of the Hearthome gym, had owned three. Fantina worked hard, and soon enough, she took her under her wing and designated her as her successor. She had begged Sylvestia for years to tell her the secrets to evolving Haunter, but every time, she said no. She told her that she was not ready. Fantina had hated that answer in her young age, and yet today, it was her saying the same thing.

Hypocritical, wasn't it?

"You followed me?" Fantina said, glancing at the floor as she silently put on her purple heels. "I told you to wait for me, did I not?"

The gym leader smiled and got into her car once more. The contest gala she was going to was in preparation for the next Grand Contest next week. When Fantina had been younger, she probably would have despised this kind of event, but now? She enjoyed herself very much.

"Things change, and yet you stay the same, don't you all?" She said as she started her car.

When Fantina turned twenty-eight, Sylvestia announced her retirement. No one protested her ascension to the position of gym leader, and she did feel happy. Still, at the back of Fantina's mind, doubt had already begun to creep in. Already at this point, she hadn't enjoyed battling as much as she used to, and they had once again grown boring. She had discovered Pokemon contests a few months earlier, and she'd been participating in them in her free time.

But Sylvestia had spent years training her, investing money, time, and resources into her. It would have been rude of her to refuse now when she could have said something years ago. She respected her and the gym too much for that. Fantina was still training her own successor, and she wasn't even sure she'd be ready by the time she retired.

She knew now that she should have refused. Battles— whether they were close or a sweep— were dull. Running the city, she did not mind much, especially since Nyla stayed on top of most issues, and she was an excellent mayor. Oh, she had considered turning her battles into mini-performances, but at the end of the day, battles were still battles. The goal was to pummel enemies until they were unconscious, and turning the whole ordeal into a performance just meant that she was wasting trainers' time and running out the clock to put on a show. A single year was already barely enough to trek through Sinnoh without a flier.

"You are ready, now," Sylvestia had told her the day before her ascension to the role. The words had sent shivers down her spine.

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Ready had not meant that she was ready to wield the immense power a Gengar could have. It had meant that she'd been ready to hold that knowledge. It was so tightly held to prevent it from leaking to the public that Sylvestia had waited all those years to tell her.

"You see, Fantina, if a Haunter wishes to evolve, it must haunt a human to their breaking point. Torment them until they die, but not do the killing themselves."

"But… you own three Gengar," Fantina had said, her face paling. "And what do you mean until they die? You do not mean… suici…"

She hadn't found the strength to complete her sentence, and it had died in her throat.

Sylvestia just responded with a crooked smile. "I fought in the war, Fantina. You know what that entails. No one came out of that conflict with their hands clean."

"But—"

"Silence. You know now that the consequences of this getting out would be catastrophic. Trainers with Haunter are rare enough, but don't you think that some of them would kill to gain a Pokemon as powerful as Gengar? I will not let the reputation of ghosts be tarnished further."

"I can not do this. My Haunter does not kill. Not anymore."

"Oh, you will, and so will he. Children are too soft these days," she cackled. "Fret not. We won't be wasting an innocent life."

Fantina was not proud of what she did next. A mix of pressure from the mentor she had looked up to for years and a morbid desire to own the elusive Gengar had made her accept. The Sinnoh League had issued her a spy from Galar that had sabotaged and blown up Snowpoint's port, killing or injuring hundreds, and causing the city to be isolated during an entire summer, which was when they were supposed to stock up on resources to last for the winter. Needless to say, it was a complete disaster. It was the closest Sinnoh ever got to starting a war, but cooler heads prevailed. The spy was thrown under the bus by Galar's government, an official apology was issued, and they helped pay back for the port's reconstruction.

It took Haunter a month and a half to break her, and no one ever told a soul.

Eventually, Sylvestia retired, and then died a decade later, passing away peacefully in her sleep. Her ghosts all split up and left. Fantina never managed to find them. All she knew was that they were incredibly powerful— more than her own, if she had to guess. Thankfully, they had been raised with love, so wherever they were, they were peaceful. That, she was sure of.

—

Fantina stepped out of an elevator that brought her to the contest hall's last floor. There, the most well-known individuals in the coordinator industry were gathering for tonight's gala. Well-known coordinators, judges, donors, executives, and businessmen were all here. It was taking place in a large ballroom with high ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers. The walls were draped in a luxurious white fabric, but the ground was still carpeted pink, just like on the first floor. Guests arrived dressed in their finest attire, mingling and chatting over hors d'oeuvres and drinks served by waiters in tuxedos. A well-known band filled the room with music, making themselves sparse in the corner. The centerpiece of the gala was a grand stage, which served as the focal point for any speeches. Fantina would have to give one later in the night.

"Fantina!" A large man yelled out, his arms outstretched. "Just in time, as always. How was work today?"

"Do not talk to me about work, Thomas," she said, rolling her eyes. "Not tonight. If you must know, though, I have come across two interesting trainers in the last two days that were in need of some advice."

"We do live in interesting times, don't we? All that rabble about Team Galactic has my wife worried. She's glued to her television all the time."

"This is a gala, Thomas. We are raising money for a new stadium to be built next year in Solaceon— the first of the city. Let us not speak about such morose topics. You will scare away the guests. I heard you were a judge during the last contest here. A shame I missed it. I had to train my successor."

Thomas stroked his chin. "Hm, yes. There were a few coordinators there that caught my eye, but you know how exigent I am. I want something new and refreshing, not the same boring garbage. One of the coordinators here had the most wonderful performance with a Beldum and a Rockruff… her name was Emilia Lussier, if I remember correctly. A few more months, and I can see her going places— oh! If you'll excuse me, I must speak to Temperance," he said, pointing toward the famous coordinator.

Lussier… Fantina turned toward a couple sitting in the room's corner, keeping to themselves. Alice and Harry Lussier ran a real estate company that was lobbying to expand Hearthome further, but they were mostly old-fashioned people that didn't go out much. Were they her parents? Lussier was a rather uncommon last name. Next, she turned toward Temperance. Her hair was dyed a combination of platinum white and garnet red tonight, it seemed. It was said that she changed the color of her hair every time she performed, and next week's contest would be no exception. She was Thomas' favorite coordinator due to how fresh and different everything she did was. According to most, she was the favorite to win the Grand Festival this summer.

Fantina would not participate this year— not with Team Galactic running around. She sometimes did, and she had won multiple times, but these days, she was mostly a judge for high-stakes contests. The gym leader grabbed a glass of champagne and made her way toward another familiar face to make small talk. About two hours later, a shiver suddenly ran up her leg, and she tapped her heel against the floor in a rhythmic fashion.

"Thank you for the wonderful conversation, Paul, I will see you later," she smiled.

"Oh, already? Don't forget to talk to Nyla about that expansion into route 212! The Lussiers won't shut up about it, and I owe them a favor."

"I will take the best decision for Hearthome, Paul," Fantina said. "This is about contests, not business."

"Contests are business, Fantina. This isn't the old days any longer. There's money to be made, and I'll jump on any opportunity. Plus, wouldn't a second hall do Hearthome some good? There are too many coordinators here, and the contests are always at full capacity— so much so that they have to sell those priority tickets to the grand contests for a higher price. If we can open another one to the south, then it'll give them more opportunities to shine."

Another shiver up her leg. She responded with another heel tap. Her head scanned the room for a specific individual.

"I'll think about it," she absent-mindedly said as she emptied her glass.

The gym leader searched the room for around ten minutes, and eventually found who she was looking for on the balcony.

"The LSS never rests, it seems," Fantina smiled as she leaned against the balcony's railing. "You could have come up to me, and we would not have had to waste time. Would it not be better to talk inside? It's cold."

"No one's here," the man said. "This is as good of a spot as it gets."

"It'll turn heads."

"Let them turn. There's a spy here for Team Galactic."

"They have warned me already," Fantina said, her tone growing serious. The agent stared at her feet and chuckled dryly, but she ignored him and continued. "Who is it?"

"Fabian Mcclure. One of your fellow judges for next week's grand contest."

"Fabian? He would not—"

"Blackmail. Your friend's been taking kickbacks from experienced coordinators and giving them better scores in return. Team Galactic got a hold of that. If it comes out, his career will be ruined, and so will a few dozen coordinators involved in the scheme. Well, not like the League cares."

Fantina clicked her tongue and sighed in disappointment. "Merde! What is he giving them? Fabian is wealthy, but not that wealthy."

The nameless agent laughed. "You see too much good in the world, Fantina. It isn't money they want, it is information about you. They can't infiltrate your gym or the League, so they've infiltrated the coordinator industry instead since they know it's practically your home these days. And even though you act like you're blind to it, it's full of self-serving, corrupt bastards."

"Let us not get into a debate about corruption. You said they want information about me?"

"The latest news is that they plan to try something the night of the grand contest next week."

"And I assume you haven't arrested Fabian yet and done something about this because he's too useful to you?"

"We've bugged his phone. He's talking to a middleman, so he's still of use. We'll get him soon. Just need to tie up some loose ends and figure out where this person is exactly. Fabian's a small fish. The middleman's the one we're really after. Well, his memories, specifically. He'd have to be rather knowledgeable about Team Galactic if he's doing jobs this important for them."

Fantina tapped her foot against the floor, and the shadows responded.

"Fabian's staring at us," she said. "Don't turn your head."

"That's what your ghost says?"

"I have multiple hiding around tonight, since I felt nostalgic," she smiled. "I think I ought to leave early."

"No. Give your speech and act like nothing happened."

"Is that Cynthia's direct order?"

"No, more like a friendly recommendation from the LSS. Cynthia's not involved in this, she's working on something else regarding the Directorate at the moment."

"Then I will not follow this recommendation," Fantina shrugged. "Gengar, my dear, is Fabian still staring?"

Fantina smiled as she felt the shadow gently wrap around her leg. It was a coded language that only she and her ghosts knew that they had created and perfected over the years.

"He is? Good. And you, nameless agent, I assume you have a teleporter with you?"

"Sure, but I'm traveling light," he said, revealing a single Pokeball hidden below his suit. "That means no fighting for me. I think I'll slip out if you leave, since things might get dicey. I wouldn't do it if I were you."

"Get back inside. Act as if nothing happened after I leave, and stick around for a few minutes before you make your exit."

"Don't be rash. We can't shadow you to protect you because your ghosts always throw a fit. It's too dangerous."

"Oh please, do not speak to me about danger, young man. You know what I am capable of. I will not be chained by people weaker than I. Get back inside, now."

This time, she was not asking. Shadows furiously wreathed beneath her feet, and the agent blanched.

He took a sip of his glass as he turned back to enter the building. Fantina stared at the sky with a heavy sigh. Of course, she knew of the corruption festering in the coordinator world, but she never expected it to be this widespread, and for Team Galactic to be involved. Her good mood had cratered to dangerous levels. Even mindless battling would have cheered her up some.

"Well, it is time to leave," the gym leader said. "Drifblim?"

The balloon-like Pokemon appeared in the sky, and her red eyes shone in the darkness. Without any warning, Fantina jumped off the balcony, catching one of Drifblim's yellow arms midair, and the ghost gently lowered her to the ground. Fabian had no doubt seen her, which was the plan. Fantina winced when she tried to move her arm and shoulder.

"I am sixty-five, I can not be doing these things," she laughed heartily. "Still, how fun! Brings me back. Stick close to me, my dears."

It was a command issued not only to Drifblim and Gengar, but the remaining four ghosts that hid out of their Pokeballs. Usually, it was just those two, but tonight had been different. They had gotten so good at it that the temperature did not even lower no matter how close they were. Fantina did not get back in her car. Instead, she decided to go for a nice walk in the middle of the cold night. Fabian was no doubt panicking by now, sending a message to whatever middleman he was in contact with. The middleman would, in turn, tell his contacts in Team Galactic that she immediately left as soon as a mysterious stranger spoke to her. Paranoia made people act rashly, which was what she was hoping for.

Ten minutes later, her leg shivered again in code. Five people. Fantina tapped her foot against the floor and slightly gestured with her fingers. She turned into an alley, and five people followed. An abandoned building would have worked better here, but alas, this part of Hearthome was too affluent to have any. It was dark, but her eyes had always quickly gotten used to the absence of light, and that was enough for a short battle. Fantina stopped in her tracks, and she heard the people following her release their Pokemon.

"Arbok, Acid! Shiftry, Night Slash!"

"Nidoqueen, Sludge! Liepard, Assurance!"

"Houndoom, Dark Pulse!"

"Dark Pulse, Umbreon!"

"Drapion, Pin Missile!"

All of them yelled at the same time, and all attacks shot out simultaneously.

"Hold back," she quickly responded.

A Dusclops appeared in front of Fantina, shielding her with Protect. Drifblim dropped down from the sky, blocking the grunts' escape path. Banette and Gengar jumped out of her shadow to strike the attacking Pokemon. A hole formed in the middle of Gengar's body as two Dark Pulses simply passed through him and rammed against Dusclops's Protect. The poison type laughed, pointing a ghostly hand toward the Umbreon, and a bright light of concentrated energy flew toward the dark type, who yelped and fainted after one Focus Blast. Banette swiped at Nidoqueen and Arbok with Shadow Claw, disappearing with Phantom Force in a split second when she needed to dodge. A purple Flamethrower washed down the alley from the sky, taking care of the rest. The battle was over in just a few moments.

Five dark types? They certainly had come prepared, but it was not enough to take her down. She had decades of experience under her belt.

"Chandelure, light up the area, will you? I need to see their faces properly."

A pale, purple light shone down the alley, but Chandelure was still nowhere to be seen.

"Mismagius, keep them still."

The five grunts shivered as Mismagius appeared behind them and whispered in their ears. Their arms and legs were suddenly joined together.

"Fuck! I can't— how'd you tie us up?!" One of the grunts screamed.

But they weren't. It only felt like they were thanks to Mismagius' illusion, so they were incapable of running away.

"Now, now, what should I do with you?" Fantina quietly said as she approached the culprits. They couldn't have been a day over twenty-five. The youngest of them even looked eighteen. A shame, what Team Galactic had done to them. "Let's start with the obvious. What was your goal here?"

"It was—"

A young girl screeched, interrupting him. "Shut the fuck up, Samuel! Don't say anything!"

"But she'll kill us, won't she?!"

"They'll kill us whether we talk or not, you fuck!"

Samuel seemed to be the name of the youngest one. After asking them the same question a few more times, Fantina decided to use him as a wedge, along with handing them a snippet of hope.

"Look, I could just have everything ripped from your brain come tomorrow morning, but if you talk, I promise that I will make sure that doesn't happen. You will have to serve some time, but at least you will still be you."

"What good is your promise?" A female grunt said. "Don't make me laugh. We'll die here for our ideals if need be!"

Fantina stepped toward Samuel. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen," he timidly answered, ignoring his comrades' protests.

"Seventeen… well, I think that if you cooperate, you could be out of prison by the time you're twenty-five—"

A man spoke up this time. "Don't listen to her filthy mouth—"

Gengar loomed in front of the man, his multiple rows of long, sharp, needle-like teeth, terrifying scarlet eyes and perpetually shifting face in full display. The grunt held his breath, hoping not to inhale the poisonous fumes that the ghost could emit. Depending on how antagonistic Gengar felt, one whiff, and he'd drop dead.

"Gengar," Fantina warned.

The ghost laughed and sunk into her shadow. He'd always been overprotective.

"Listen, children. There are two choices here. Either you speak and at least have a chance of coming out of this unscathed, or you do not, and the League rips out your memories tomorrow."

After hesitating for a few seconds, Samuel spoke first. "We got a message that said to kill you before you got home. Apparently, you knew something. That's all we've been told."

"Don't try to fool me with half-truths. That was just stating the obvious. Your Pokemon are good… at least at the five-badge level, or around those lines. A pitiful assassination team for someone of my caliber, but trainers that good do not grow on trees, and I suppose that your leader did not want to sacrifice his more valuable assets in case the plan failed. Either way, surely that means that you were told more than this. Here, let me try something. Did you know that Team Galactic's ultimate goal is to end the world?"

They all froze.

"Ah, so you do know. And yet you still help them? How curious," Fantina mused. Letting them know did not exactly matter, since no matter what happened tonight, they wouldn't be going back to their headquarters. Still, she omitted speaking about Dialga and Palkia.

It had only been a theory, but the League believed that there were two tiers of Team Galactic members. Those who knew the real plan of the organization, and those that were being fooled with platitudes and empty promises. They had only captured and stolen the memories of the former so far, but that was the only way that they had figured a literal doomsday cult had gathered so many members.

And apparently, these five knew.

That complicated things. The odds of them making it out of this with their memories intact had considerably lowered unless they gave her pertinent information.

"Tell me everything you know, and I'll try to keep you alive."

The statement came from the heart. Fantina did not like seeing these poor children misled, so if she could avoid it, she would try to spare their minds. Of course, if push came to shove… well, it would be for the greater good.

The greater good, however, often just meant evil, but the League was content to dish out evil if the world would be saved— Fantina included.

"There's been a new directive… we were supposed to aim to kill the gym leaders to soften up the League forces in preparation for a potential attack on the three lakes," the youngest spoke. At this point, the others had all given up, aside from the girl. "You were deemed to be the easiest because you don't have protection from the League, and infiltrating it is basically impossible. We could infiltrate the coordinator industry to keep tabs on you instead. There was also the objective of killing Cynthia the next time she decided to get out of her damned fortified island."

Fantina almost broke into laughter. Killing Cynthia? With that Spiritomb keystone she carried in her pocket at all times? It might as well have been impossible. Even she— a ghost type specialist— found the Pokemon too much to handle. There was a reason Cynthia never used it in the few battles she still sometimes fought. All those damned 108 souls could agree on were an unshakable loyalty and love to the Champion. Still, she said nothing for now.

Cynthia… Fantina still remembered that bright-eyed fifteen-year-old that wiped the floor with her all those years ago when she challenged her gym for the first time with only a Gabite, a Togetic, a Roselia, a Milotic, and a Lucario to her name. She'd only been using her four-badge team, but it made her feel like a cornered Pokemon all the same. Fantina grabbed her phone and quickly sent a coded message to the League. The other gym leaders weren't as good as she was, and they were in great danger, especially since they carried their Pokemon in their balls at all times.

"You were planning on doing something the night of the contest," she continued. "What was it?"

"It would have been the same thing we tried now, just with thirty people instead of the measly five we managed to gather on such short notice. We would have waited near your home and attacked you when you came back from the post-contest party— hopefully drunk. It might still happen, I don't know," Samuel said.

So it wouldn't have been as bad as Fantina thought. She had almost expected a massive attack on the contest hall to get to her, but perhaps that would have generated too much public outrage due to the massive amount of casualties and put the public on the side of memory extraction. Still, thirty? She would have had to go all out, and even then, it might not have been enough. Fantina would have to call the League. Perhaps it was time to end her days of independence and get some guards.

"Where are your headquarters in the city?"

"Samuel, don't you dare!"

"It's to the southeast near the gate to route 209, but they're probably evacuating by now—"

"You fucking rat!"

"—We were supposed to send a message to confirm if we succeeded by now, so they probably know it's gone wrong."

Still, Fantina sent another coded message to the League after asking for the exact address. If they could make it in time…

"Who's the middleman between Team Galactic and Fabian Mcclure?" Fantina asked.

"Only Daisy and Derek know…" Samuel muttered. "They're our leaders."

"Samuel, you fucking traitor! I'll make sure the Commanders get you for this, you little worm!" Daisy continued to yell, squirming against her non-existent binds.

"Aïe, aïe, aïe," Fantina groaned, pinching her nose. She was completely brainwashed. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me? You'll die, or your mind will be irreparably altered. We will figure it out. It's just a matter of figuring it out tonight or tomorrow morning."

The man called Derek silently thought to himself, biting his lip as he no doubt considered his future. It was strange, that a man wanting to end the world cared about his future. Fantina could not really see the difference between dying tomorrow or a few months from now. Maybe there was more to the plan than met the eye. Would Cyrus' followers be spared in some way? With Dialga and Palkia under their control, anything they wanted would be possible. Fantina sent the idea to the League.

"Argh, fine! There's no way we're getting back in now anyway, Daisy!" Derek screamed in frustration. "Samuel already spoke too much. The Commanders would kill us or worse. We're not getting in… our best chance is to help the League stop them. Our contact in the city… his name is Abel. The fucking League—" he spat the last word, as he did every time he mentioned the government. "—probably knows more about him than we do. All I know is that he's as slippery as an Arceus damned Eelektross. I don't know what Pokemon he owns aside from that Malamar, but they allow him to be undetected wherever he goes."

Fantina hummed as she ignored Daisy's indignant cries. She petted Banette's head, which she had solidified, and the ghost nuzzled against her hand. Abel was that criminal from Unova that they still hadn't found. The League didn't exactly consider him to be a priority, but now, that might change.

"So he's joined your organization, then?"

"No. He hasn't, he just works for money," the grunt said. "Team Galactic's been paying him for his service, and he's excellent at information gathering. We're just working together out of convenience, or at least, that's what I've been told. He's after two big-wig billionaires. He doesn't seem to care much about anything else."

"I know who he is after. Let's stay on topic. So he is in the city, then. Where is he, currently?"

"I don't know."

"Where was the last place you saw him?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"It wasn't him that we met! We just talk via texting! It was an associate of his that always took the money. Some no-name kid that never speaks and has a fucking creepy grin that reaches his ears and a blank stare. Barely even blinks."

"What does the kid look like, then?"

"Barely ten, if I had to guess, but I'm bad with ages. White, dark brown hair, pale and thin, I don't fucking know. He's like any kid you can see on the street. The only thing different about him is that Arceus damned grin and blank stare. Barely even looks human."

"Fine. You've been of use. I will make sure you don't die. You are just children. Surely you deserve a second chance after you serve your time."

"T—thank you," Samuel sighed. "Thank you so much. What about our Pokemon?"

"The League will take and rehabilitate them."

All of their faces sank. Alas, she had done all she could. Fantina phoned the police, and ten minutes later, they were all off to jail. The League would take another few hours to arrive.

"Well, this sure was a mess, wasn't it?" Fantina told her ghosts. The cancer that was Team Galactic was spreading a lot more than she thought, and there'd be a lot of cleanup to do. Depending on how deep the rot went… she'd have to go after the Contest Committee itself. Her Pokemon all laughed as they disappeared into the shadows, and for some reason, her mind thought back to that young Mira Compton.

"Love your ghosts, and they shall learn to love in return."

The next day, Fabian, along with a few people in the industry, was arrested. The Galactic base in Hearthome had been completely vacated, even though they got there barely an hour after her call. The League learned of Team Galactic's ultimate plan thanks to the five grunts' cooperation, along with a lot more information about how Cyrus' inner circle operated. The man wished not only to end the world, but to create a new one in his image for himself and a few thousand of the members of his organization.

The rest? Well, they'd be left out to dry.