This might be the most relaxing thing I’ve found so far. Just drifting above a sea of trees, no tastes or disturbances on my extra senses, feeling the wind pass through my only mildly tangible body. I can see for miles, and not for the first time I’m struck by how compact the cities I can see are.

And I just remembered some of the questions I had for Weaver. Ah well, not like I won’t get another chance later.

I’m floating higher than normal right now, higher than I’ve ever done before. It’s peaceful, serene even, as I let my eyes roam over everything. The mountains in the distance are beautiful, I’d even say breathtaking if that applied to me anymore.

Turning my gaze farther up, I see the moon, it’s similar, but not the same as the one from my old world. It's the first full moon I've seen since arriving here, and I'm now convinced magic is entirely real. I can feel the moonlight, feel its power soaking into me, healing me. It feels comforting in a way I've never felt before.

I’m on the final stretch to my cabin now, so there’s no point holding it off any longer. I make gravity affect me, and I start drifting downwards. I don’t know how much I weigh now, but it isn’t a lot.

Landing on the roof of my house I give one last look at the sky before descending into the building. Once I’m fully inside, I phase into the not-space.

So, the thing I’ve been ignoring all day. It started when Marshal made that offhand comment and I couldn’t help diving into it.

I’d had so many questions building in the background and that just added to them: Why are my thoughts so much more insistent? So much louder? Why are my memories almost the same as they’ve always been, except that I can tell when I can’t remember something? Why when the memory fails do I know what I’m filling in? Why does my memory have functions that a normal human’s doesn’t?

I’d already answered those questions, I just hadn’t internalized it. Then I remembered what Weaver said last night, about her evolution, and it hit me.

My brain, if what I have now can even be called that, isn’t the same as before. I knew I was a ghost, a misdreavus, I’d even panicked over it when I first woke up. Then after Marshal made that comment it finally, truly hit me that I’m not human and…

Nothing.

No panicking, no feeling of vertigo, no emotional outburst. Nothing.

The fact I didn’t break down was and is stressing me out more than the thing I thought would’ve left me a mess. And what makes it worse is that I don’t know if it’s me or something new because I wasn’t that prone to freaking out as a human. Fuck, I don’t think I was even panicking when being stabbed to death, just tired and- I’m not going keep thinking about that. I might be starting to not feel as… honestly, I still don’t know how I feel about it, but I’m not ready to focus on that particular memory.

And, in the end, Marshal was right when she pulled me out of my spiral, I still feel like me. I still have all my memories and they are, in fact, easier to parse through now.

The ones from when I was human are relatively normal, I am, however, certain they aren’t degrading further, so that’s nice. While the memories I’ve been gaining since dying, on the other hand, are clear but incomplete. Though they’re rather easy to reconstruct fully, even if it takes a bit to go through them.

And yet I still don’t know why and how I can make them ‘sticky.’ It’s definitely a pokemon thing, but I’ve got no other ideas on that front.

I sigh, the sound oddly flat in the empty not-space. I shouldn't dwell on all this, I know I shouldn't, it’s a surefire way to end up screaming at the walls again. What else happened today?

Oh yeah. I have the being in two places at once thing, and I’m still just mostly confused on that one. I think what looks like me is just something I’m moving. Except that I can feel through it, see, hear, smell, all that stuff. What really struck me about that, though, is that I don't think I would have noticed if Marshal hadn't destroyed my second body. It feels entirely natural to me, it’s just… my body. But apparently, it’s not.

I try to move back to what I think might be my ‘actual’ body, and- I can’t? I can’t even feel it anymore, but I know it’s still near me, somewhere. Or maybe it’s part of me?

I miss my mirror, it was nice to be able to stare at myself while wondering about this stuff. It’s fine though, I choose to believe I’ll get a new one at some point.

Hmm, what was next? Right, there's the taste thing that I only realized when Leaf leaned into me.

When do I go from tasting the broad outer emotions to everything underneath? It isn't touch, since I don't need to be touching Marshal, though she might be an outlier given the sheer saturation around her.

Hmm, you know, I think Onaga of all people gave me the start of an answer: Active-feeding. That’s still not everything, of course, as I'm nearly certain that even when I'm tasting the undercurrents I'm still only taking what's shed.

Mmm… I’ll have to figure that out when I can find someone who’ll let me try something.

Which puts me back to thinking about Weaver. Since she’s the only person I’ve met that I’d call a real friend at this point and the only person I feel even slightly comfortable asking these kinds of questions.

Except now I'm on this whole series of trains of thought about me and my body and I can’t help thinking: Did she change when she evolved?

Granted, we only met three times before then. First when Onaga came out to take a look at me, then when she came to see me two days later, and finally when the signs were put up.

I think she changed? But as she said, it didn't change her so much as how attentive she seemed.

I blink. That’s good, I think? But it makes me wonder how much my body affected and affects my thinking. ‘Probably more than I would like’ sounds about right.

Oh. Now that I think of it again, evolution is still a thing that can happen to me, isn't it? Fuck. How about I just deal with it if it comes up. After all, it can’t be a bad thing, right?

Right?

But what if- I need to get out of my head.

Checking around, I don’t see anything to worry about, so I transition back to real-space. I had wanted to work on this place, so it’s time to make a list.

***

The walls need fixing, cleaned, and either re-sealed or painted. The glass door needs fully replaced, and the front door, too. The roof is in surprisingly good condition—meaning it only needs a slight amount of a lot of work—and the ceiling crawlspace is nasty, but at least it isn’t leaking down. The floor is, of course, a lost cause and needs new flooring over the foundation. Of the several gouges made in the doors, walls, and trimming when the tourists decided to be assholes, I’ve already ‘fixed’ most of them. And thinking of trimming, everything at floor level needs to be replaced.

The kitchen is in better condition, having been more isolated from the elements. The countertops are fine, just need to work on the floor and exterior walls. And paint, can’t forget that.

The bedroom is in great condition, truthfully. Walls and floor again.

The balcony… I’m shocked it’s still attached. The whole thing needs rebuilt.

But what I’m most surprised by is the condition the foundation is in. Truly, it’s in a surprisingly good state for an old stone-and-mortar foundation on a building with no gutters, but it’s not the first time I’ve seen something like it happen. I got lucky with that.

Overall? A fixer-upper, but one I can see working out well. No idea where I’ll get what I need though.

Also, I hadn’t realized how useful seeing inside things would be. I’m starting to give off more not-light for whatever reason, so all I need to do to check a wall, section of floor, singular board, anything really, is to float up to it and focus. I don't think it's the most accurate view but I can at least tell that the whole west wall needs re-enforced. Some of those two-by-sixes and four-by-tens—wow, I’d say overkill but they’ve obviously held up—inside the walls need to be replaced.

Also, those larger lumber dimensions can’t be standard, right? Then again, if the material was locally sourced- Eh, I’m not being paid to think of those kinds of things anymore.

I look back at the fireplace and the scars of the uncontrolled fire that evidently happened there at some point. It's the reason most of the floor and some of the west wall need replacing. The open fire plan and relatively small brick shielding and arch go a long way to explaining what happened. If- When I get to that point of fixing this place, I’m getting an enclosed stove. They’re just better.

What was I thinking about? Right, actually acquiring things. Something else to ask Weaver about.

▲▲▲

▼▼▼

Darkness. Everywhere I turn, only the vague impressions of shapes.

Trying to move is like wading through quicksand. But I need to! I- I need to? Why?

There was something right over there just a moment ago, wasn’t there?

It had looked like-

“Weav.” Something pokes me, cold and sharp. Familiar.

“Mmghh, slp," I say, batting at the offending appendage as everything starts going gray.

I hear a snickering, and some part of me knows I don’t want what’s about to happen. Grudgingly, I listen to it.

Opening my eyes, I see a pair of gold irises looking down from a fur-covered face, the back of a frost-coated claw held a short distance from my stomach.

“Weaver.” I greet, half-smiling at her usual behavior.

“Vile.” She supplies, backing the claw off.

I turn my head to see the clock at the end of the room. Oh-five-forty.

Sighing, I lightly shove Weaver off myself and watch her make a show of trying to regain her balance as I stand and stretch.

“Eeon.” That makes me pause, my mind taking a second to catch up to yesterday.

“Espeon.” I greet with a yawn, glancing to the end of the bed.

He looks tired, though not in the same way as when I first saw him. That should get better once the sun is up.

Looking around the rest of the barracks, I can see I’m the first up, as usual. Most of the pokemon are awake, though unlike my partner they’re content to let the others sleep a bit longer.

I quietly make my way to the door, my two partners falling in step behind me, Weaver with her normal confidence and Espeon with less certainty.

Passing by the operations room, I give a wave to a bored-looking Katie.

“Is it morning already?” She asks, glancing at the room's digital clock. "Oh. You mind grabbing me a bowl of cereal?"

“Sure. Toasts, granola, puffs, or bran?” I reply.

She seems to have an internal debate before, “Bran. With some granola.”

I nod, resuming my walk down the hall. On reaching the kitchen, I grab a glass and a bowl before Weaver hands me the box of bran flakes.

“Still enjoying that new dexterity, huh?” I say looking at her. She’s already going for the granola as well. She doesn’t verbally answer, giving me a bright smile as she hands me the box. “Thanks.”

“Alright, planning time. Espeon," I say, looking at the pokemon in question as I go for the milk, "You need to be seen by an actual pokemon clinic." His ears droop. "I know, but we need to be sure. So we're going to drop you off on my jog." He doesn't look enthused, but he still nods. "Before then, I'm going to find the reading tapes and Weaver can help you start learning while I work on weights." Both my partners nod. "Now, before we get started," I say, pouring milk into the glass I'd readied, "If either of you are hungry, eat now. I'm only going to have a light snack before I get started."

Espeon gives Weaver a nervous look. My best friend sighs, rolling her eyes as she walks to the fridge where we keep pokemon food. They'll be fine. After Grabbing a spoon, I quickly pour a bit from both cereal boxes into the bowl, before putting them away. Picking up the cup and bowl, I head to the operations room.

“Hey, thanks," Katie says when I present her the food. “Sorry if I was a bit grouchy earli- uh, last night.”

“Don’t be.” I wave her off. “You’re working harder than you should need to, we all understand.”

Katie doesn’t respond, merely nodding as she digs into her meal.

Heading to the storage room, I make a quick detour to the laundry and snag a clean sports bra. And it doesn’t take me long to find the literacy tapes buried under a few movies we haven’t touched in ages.

After returning to the kitchenette, I set the small stack down on the table. "Here they are you two," I tell the pokemon, both of whom have opted for what look like magikarp fillets. They glance at the stack and then at me before returning to their food, although Weaver seems to be throwing the occasional glance at Espeon.

A light snack of granola and water later, I'm in the rec room, my partners having already started the lessons.

Moving through various stretches of my legs, spine, chest, and arms, I’m in a toe hold as I watch Weaver pause the video to explain something again. Her attitude on Espeon shifted rather fast last night after I saw her reading the info I’d left out, so I’m a bit more optimistic about them getting along now. Mmm, enough stretching, time for the weights.

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Deciding to make today about endurance, I only set the weight to one hundred kilos.

***

"You're going to be late for your run," Karlos comments from the doorway, a yawn escaping him as he finishes.

“Hmm?” I query, standing from my cooldown stretches. “What time is it?”

“Seven-fifteen.” He says.

“That's plenty of time," I tell him, making my way out the door.

“You scare me sometimes.” He chuckles. “At least you put that drive towards something good.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” I step past him, moving towards the locker room and showers.

“I’ll have the usual ready when you get back.” He says behind me, and I give him a thumbs up over my head.

While quickly rinsing under cold water, I realize that Karlos never came back last night. Good for him, he deserves to spend time with his family. Moving out of the showers, I pull on some civvies, though I still use my work boots and clip my radio to my belt. The first because they’re practical, the second because I’m leaving the base while not on leave.

As I exit the lockers, I find both Weaver and Espeon are waiting outside the door.

“You two ready?” I ask them. Receiving two nods.

“Wea.”

Affirmation.

“Okay. Like I said, we’re headed to a clinic. I’m going to say…” I think about it, giving Espeon a once over. "Vientown Central Pokemon Clinic, since they're an all-hours clinic.” I nod. “I can carry you if you want, Espeon?”

The pokemon shakes his head. Negation.

He’s going to collapse, but it’s his choice. “Okay. If you have issues, let me know,” I say.

“Esper.”–Affirmation.

"Good. Let's get to it." I say pushing the door to the lobby open, beginning my ‘jog’ towards town.

I’m not surprised when Espeon falters shortly after reaching the north road. He’s too skinny and a psychic to boot. Though I wouldn’t have known that second part before last night.

Strain. Urgency. He doesn’t say anything. He can’t, not with how hard he’s panting. So I turn around, scoop him up, and continue.

Regret. Strain. Gratitude. P_i*,– He informs me empathically, panting against my shoulder.

"This is why I'm taking you to a clinic," I tell him. “And why I asked if you wanted carried.”

Acceptance. Regret.

Given what just happened, I increase my pace to a sprint and reach the clinic quickly.

It's a large, cream-colored building near the center of town, plain-fronted and three stories tall. Anybody from a League country would think it’s just a hospital, which it is, just not for humans.

Coming to a stop, I reposition Espeon before walking in. One of the women I vaguely recognize at the front desk giving me a double-take, while the other seems to immediately pin me as an off-duty ranger.

“Is this an emergency?” The one who caught on asks. Her name tag says 'Tanya.'

“No," I reply, gently setting Espeon down. He wobbles slightly but stands. "Dropping off a potential partner for a check-up."

“Okay, I assume no known history, then?” She asks, already grabbing a clipboard and several papers.

“Yeah," I tell her, and she sets most of the paper aside.

“Right, I’m betting you know the drill, too.” I nod and she hands me the forms. Authorization of release, authorization of records, statement of ranger authority. The standards.

“He's not registered yet," I tell the woman after signing. “I’ll need a statement of safety, and of consent, too.” She nods, and, after trailing over a few sorting boxes, hands me the last two.

“A wild Espeon?” The second woman, whose tag reads ‘Zera’ asks.

“No.” I do my best to prevent more questions with my tone. They both seem to take the hint. “You’re alright with being looked at and treated without me here?” I ask Espeon, glancing down at him. “I’ll need visual confirmation.”

Espeon nods. Reluctance. Understanding. Affirmation.

I glance at the receptionists, who both nod in turn. “Okay, good.”

With that, I pass the forms back. “I’ll get them taken to our waiting area.” The second receptionist says, standing to step out of the station. “Will you come with me? It shouldn’t be longer than ten minutes.” She asks Espeon.

He glances at me, then back at the woman before nodding once and carefully stepping after her.

Beginning my jog back to base, I’m a little surprised to hear Fran’s voice over my radio, “Short-range test. Repeat, short-range test. Am I coming through okay?”

“Loud and clear," I respond. “Are you receiving?”

“Yes, all clear. Changing to relay test.” He says, the line falling silent for a moment. “Vientown relay test. Repeat, Vientown relay test. Can you hear me?”

“I can. Receiving?”

“Crystal clear.”

“I thought you were headed back to the academy today?” I ask, checking to see if Weaver is still behind me. She isn’t, oh well.

“I am," Fran says. “Katie figured I should at least do a manual comms test before I leave, and you’re always out jogging around now.”

I don’t sigh, merely dropping the conversation as I make my way back to base.

“Karlos says your breakfast is ready.” …I decide to increase my speed a bit.

▲▲▲

▼▼▼

I’m getting that feeling from when I first tried using Moves again. Like I’m missing something that’s right in front of me. I can see the emotions, even taste them, but I can’t get my psychic-whatever to interact with the fucking things.

Espeon was moving a massive amount of emotions around and I can’t even manage a… whatever you’d use to measure them. It’s frustrating, but not all that surprising. I’m not psychic despite having psychic powers.

And voice powers?

Oh, and ghost powers now, too. How many things can one pokemon do, exactly? The four-move limit is clearly not a thing.

Deciding it's time to stop trying this for now, I pull my cloud in and let myself enjoy the taste of fear. I still don’t know why it tastes so good, but I don’t care at the moment as I return to normal reality.

I’m so fucking bored.

What do I have to do all day, and all night now, too? Practice with my new powers? Sure, that’s one thing, but it gets monotonous fast. Go looking for food? Great, but unless I feel like engaging with someone that mostly involves drifting around unseen, picking up spare emotions along the way.

And, sure, Marshal visits every few days and there are friendly enough people to talk to out here, but those are only occasional things. I have so much time and nothing to do with it. Maybe- I’m sitting in the open while I do this, aren’t I? Wasn’t I about to do something else?

God, I'm so fucking bored.

May as well try the ghost thing now. Leaving my cabin, I see a few grass-types on the north edge of the clearing. They do that sometimes, so I ignore them. Instead, focusing on the new-old feeling of what I think is ghost stuff, I bring it to a single point to get a feel-

And it explodes with a quiet ‘thup’, dragging me towards the blast. That wasn’t what I expected. Does it dragging me closer make it an implosion? Except there’s a small crater from the explosion… Weird.

Let’s try that with less focus. Shaping the forces into a sphere works if I create it over a wider area, which leaves me with a small orb flickering with ____, red, ____, and teal light.

…Wait a second, what? I blink and rub my eyes. Nope, still those nameless colors. In the real world. From something I just made.

What the fuck did I just make? Um, and does it do anything? Can I make it stop changing colors?

It feels unstable for some reason- No, that’s not right. It feels like it’s losing stability, so I’m going to try stabilizing it. Adding just a small amount of constant power to it, it stops flickering, the colors shifting to start cycling through red, blue, teal, and green. And now it feels empty? It’s like I need to add something else…

I should try launching it at the ground first, I guess?

It, uh, flashes and disappears. Okay, at this point I’m pretty sure this is going to be well outside my previous mortal—and now post-mortal—experience. At least it gives me something new to do.

▲▲▲

▼▼▼

“One of the trail guides just reported several downed trees along the lower Leol trail,” Katie’s tired voice says, nearly making me lose my count of the budew in the area.

I finish counting and note where and how many down before responding, “I’m about eight minutes away from the cliffs right now. Is it an immediate problem?”

“For us? I doubt it, but the guide says they can’t easily go over or around them. And you know how some people can be.” The operator responds, not quite cutting off her sigh. “You’re in the area though, so could you help him out?”

“No one on a runner is close enough?” I check.

“No. Emil could probably be there in fifteen minutes, but he’s scrubbing the showers right now.”

“Yeah, tell the guide I’m on the way, then,” I reply, stowing my notepad as I quickly orient myself. Snapping my fingers to get Weaver’s attention, I beckon her with a gesture before setting off at a light jog. "Did he say if he knew why the trees fell?”

There’s some silence as Katie presumably checks with the guide. “They were chewed down.” She finally answers.

Bidoof or bibarel then, though more likely bidoof if the trees haven’t been moved. Either way, I probably won’t be moving them either.

I slow down when there’s a flash to my left, bright enough to be concerning. And taking stock of where I am, that had to be the misdreavus’ doing.

I share a look with Weaver, “Do you think that’s something to be worried about?” I ask her. She shrugs.

We both try looking through the trees to where the ghost's den can be made out. Misdreavus is hanging in the center of the clearing in front of the old building, impossibly still. Then they start moving again, a glowing sphere of energy appearing and being launched at the ground, flashing briefly again. The pokemon seems to huff, then go still again.

I can’t be sure if there’s a purpose behind what they’re doing, but it seems harmless enough. After a glance down at Weaver has her shrugging again as well, I decide to leave well enough alone. Instead, I keep heading for the first bend in the cliffs.

Hmm, I should note the misdreavus on the population survey. Reaching the cliffs, I stop and do just that, noting only one member.

Glancing down the cliff face, I briefly consider jumping down here but choose to keep moving along the top of the south-running cliffs.

It’s only a few minutes later that I see the beach-bound group below me, on their way back along the trail. So I decide to head down now, landing a good distance away from the group. Who’s the guide? Ah, Richard.

Rich is a good guy, he’s a volunteer rather than an employee of the city, and he does this because he enjoys helping out. He also makes sure to listen at the meetings leading up to tourist season, which is great because not everyone does. And I’m including myself, there.

“Rich.” I greet him as I near the group, “They decided not to wait?”

The man makes to respond before one of the others beats him to it, “No, thank you very much. And I don’t understand why you don’t keep these paths cleared!” The woman snaps.

I give her a glancing once over. The over-done nails and hair are all I need to see. "Because I was doing my job," I say, coolly. When she looks like she’s about to say something else, I continue, “And my job isn’t to please you, it’s to make sure the area stays healthy. In all likelihood, I won’t be moving the fallen trees. Or cutting them, or whatever it is you thought I should do.” I tell her, feeling Weaver growing colder behind me. “Keep them out of trouble, Rich," I say, turning to the man himself. "I'm going to go take a look."

“Will do.” He confirms with a two-fingered salute.

I nod, and start moving before any of the rest of them try to engage me in an argument.

The trees end up being a few minutes jog farther down the path, past the old Emmer’s Fall bridge. Which I stop to take a look at, as it's still a nice sight. The bridge itself is old pokemon-work, slick, smooth stone with arched, half-meter walls stretched across a wide river, rough stairs carved haphazardly out of it. Emmer’s Fall looks as majestic as ever, A white churn rolling off the top of the cliffs and into the bowl below, feeding half the river. I also remind myself that I’ll need to check Inside Emmer’s Cave for the population survey.

Before I can turn back to the path and step off the bridge, a head pops out of the water. “Ebui?” The eevee questions.

"I'm checking the path down this way," I answer what I assume the question was. "Trying to evolve?"

“Eeve," They nod and dip back below the water.

I turn my head to look back down the path since I can see the trees from here. That’s a barricade, plain and simple. Oh, they look like fallen trees, but they're too big for this part of the forest and placed too close together to be a coincidence.

Making my way over, I step off the path to see chewed ends. Obviously a bibarel's work, the teeth marks are too big for a bidoof. I look down across the trees to see that they still have most of their branches and foliage.

This is clearly meant to stop, or at least slow, human passage. Why? Yes, the tourists are annoying, but to a pokemon? Relatively harmless.

Except I have a bad feeling about something else that happened recently. Especially considering that there aren’t any other rivers close enough for the bibarel to care save the one on this side of the half-wall.

I unhook my radio, “Katie, the fallen trees on the Leol trail were put here, likely by bibarel. I’m going to keep heading down the trail and try to figure out why.”

After half a minute without a response, I decide to start walking. When Weaver starts walking in front of me, I know something's up. The air around her is frosting, her steps leaving patches of ice behind us.

I learn why when we reach Nabiki Beach. It's a scenic little spot, trees giving way to a small stretch of white sand, the cliffs continuing past to bend slightly where I know the entrance to Nabiki cave is. And there's a large pokemon and its recent catch sitting at the center of the beach.

I don’t approach on seeing the pokemon, opting to hang back and report, “Katie when was the last time anyone checked Nabiki?” I ask in a low voice.

Her response is fast this time, "I'd need to check the records, but probably sometime last winter." There's a long pause, “Sorry. Why are you asking?”

“There’s a samurott here. Relatively small, likely juvenile, and very sick looking.”

“That’s very strange. Sorry again, I can’t focus on you right now, Maya is dealing with something in the central forest.” The line goes dead.

That leaves me to keep watching the non-native pokemon. Samurott are rare, even in Unova, so seeing one here is a shock. It also means the bibarel likely blocked the path to protect anybody trying to head to the beach.

The pokemon is unhealthy-looking. Cracked armor, split scales, bruises, frayed whiskers, and a distinct lack of fat layer point to a lack of self-care and food. But the look in their eyes is proud and defiant. And they can evidently feed themselves since they're currently eating the remains of a wailmer with an unhappy look on their face.

The samurott sniffs the air, turning their head towards Weaver and me. I don't make the mistake of quickly backing off, since that could make them think I don't belong here, instead I make smooth motions as I turn my radio off and unhook my RED.

Samurott watches me, making no move to rise as their gaze passes between Weaver and me. Then they slowly take another bite of the carcass. That's good, it means they aren't readying for a fight. I glance at Weaver myself and see that she's not ready to freeze something anymore. That's also good.

“Samurott,” I begin, and their eyes sharpen on me, “I’m not here to start a fight, or to try and harass you. I’m going to do something to get my feelings across, and then I’m going to ask if I can come closer.” I say, all in a calm, unhurried voice.

Samurott continues to watch me, blinking nictitating membranes once. “Rott” They nod after several moments of stillness.

Okay, now, from what I remember samurott are proud, so I need to focus more on being open and friendly rather than concerned or trying to help. I won’t be able to put them out of my mind, but I don't want those to be the main feelings.

I hold the trigger, the enervating feeling washing over me, and after two seconds I see Samurott blink. Moment of truth. “Is it okay if I come closer?” I ask the small, for their species—and still rather large, pokemon.

They seem conflicted for a moment, eyes moving between me, the carcass, and the horizon a few times before they nod. “Rottur.” They say, chucking their chin to beckon me closer.

“Okay.” I sigh, turning my radio back on and stepping closer. “I’m back on Katie, I just needed to keep things calm for a bit.” There’s no reply.

“How did you get here?” I ask who I’m starting to think is a ‘her.’

She snorts, raising a claw to point behind her to Nabiki Cave. Following her claw I can now see a small transport boat, floating in the high tide at the mouth of the cave.

I also see an awful lot of what looks like dried blood.