Chapter 12:
The drifters and the door
...
Bright palace pylons glimmered with liquid gold flowing from tip to base, contrasting the white of the marbled chamber with the mystic aroma of incense infusing the space. Tendrils of the scented smoke wisped around the numerous idols that adorned the area, erected in reverence to a god of universal paragons.
A woman of four-and-half feet in height bowed before a pearlescent altar, immersed in the warm glow of the candles on it.
Her furred skin was a fair pink that had a subtle white sheen, like that of seal skin yet having the vibrancy of cherry blossoms. Her digitigrade legs ended with cat paws, and a tufted tail to match said trait poked out of her sepia tunic. Her cyan eyes spoke a lake's worth of innocence and humility.
Behind the altar stood a towering man more than double her height. His skin was dark yet starry as the universe itself. His eyes consisted of emerald sclera where ruby irises erupted in supernova incandescence that could only be matched by the plasmatic glow of his long hair which was adorned with a golden circlet above his brow. Robes of heavenly light cloaked his body; gilded with gold that matched the palace's splendor and the malachite studded double-rings floating and guarding his back. His presence thrummed with untold power.
"Rise, Wemura," he commanded. His voice resonated like thunder, briefly drowning out the distant eruptions and impacts that shook the palace from outside. He looked out the tinted window of the chamber. His eyes turned somber at the cataclysmic sight, with a single green tear running down each cheek and staining his visage.
The pointy ears of the cat-like woman twitched as she rose from her kneel to gaze upward at the man with silent confidence.
The white horn crowning the back of the man's head rose as he craned his neck lower to meet her eyes. "Time is of the essence, doomed we may be to a fate that would see us all dispossessed of our will and bodies, but the 'Creator's will has chosen to allow me a final act as the 'complete' guardian of the 'tenth sephirot' before I am scattered...and my final act is to bestow upon you, the purest of all immortals, with the responsibility to bear the 'last echoes of ourselves'...Do you accept this burden, Wemura?"
"I do with honor, my lord Archus." She affirmed with pride brimming out of her soft blooming aura.
With a nod in understanding, he formed a glowing iridescent green sphere on the palm of his copper-clawed hand as he glided effortlessly over the altar, and lowered himself to stand before her while peering into her very essentiality.
"Then from henceforth, while the Creator wills it, you shall be the 'Gene-keeper'." He declared as he pushed the orb into her chest, where it phased and disappeared into her heart, before the two beings buckled at a voice exploding into their psyche–
"All shall either drag thyselves along the ground or be closed in by the skies! You shall slither, crawl, creep, trudge, hobble, swim, float and glide, but never shall you soar or walk the celestial realm again! I rebuke you all for your transgressions against your brethren! Now, it is to 'them' who you shall all be accountable for your acts! And soon enough, to 'their' whims you shall be subjected!"
The godly omnipotent voice boomed like the collision of entire worlds, shattering a part of their intra-ego for every syllable of their chastise, and the palace fell apart under the infinite magnitude of its rebuttal with the gold melting into black oil and the marble crumbling to ashes.
"Take care of yourself." The white-clad man said with a softness in his pained red eyes.
"I will, my lord Archus." She bowed once more to her leader, with tears flowing along her face too, as a searing light wiped their minds along with the final lachrymose requiem of the hour reverberating through the crumbling walls, consisting of the wailing of terror, the cries of confusion and panic, along with the shrieks of blinding agony and crimson wrath—
"Ah! Shit!" Grey jolted awake in a cold sweat.
He swung his vision left to right.
Only the pokécenter lodge room, lit by the cold beginnings of early morning through the Venetian blinds, welcomed his vision anew from the perplexing nightmare.
Grey reached over to the nightstand and fumbled for the button on his pokédex. The screen came on and dared annoy him with an unsavory sight.
Seven in the bloody morning…
He dragged his hands down his face and let out a long, dry grunt with flashbacks to the odd dream.
"Jesus fuckin' christ…"
On the other bed next to his, Ginger stirred in her sleep, while Neva on the top bunk whispered something in her sleep with Joanna on the bunker above his own bed still silent, probably sleeping like a rock. Just beside his phone on the nightstand, Kassadar looked more like a floating lampshade rather than a live-breathing pokémon.
Pokémon…Right. But what or who were those beings in his dream? Was it a vision?
'All shall either drag thyselves along the ground or be closed in by the skies!'
That voice…It was the same voice from Oldale Ruins that had repeated the verse.
Perhaps it was just a strange amalgamation of past thoughts and previously witnessed imagery. He'd rather think of it that way much more than a vision.
Whatever the case, he certainly wasn't getting back to bed, and he had some things to do in Dewford before the group sailed off toward their next destination later on today. Kassadar wouldn't awake from his automated hypnotic sleep cycle for at least another hour, giving Grey ample time for his morning ritual. The psychic sea star was a welcome presence in his life without a doubt, but being unable to walk around without him acting like his poké-life-support was inconvenient. But that's just how Karma liked to drive it up the arse, slowly and painfully. He shrugged at the thought.
…After finishing up his routine, he made himself some coffee with the small brewing machine at the kitchenette, removed the steaming carafe from the heating plate, sat down at the table, switched on the TV at low volume, and flicked to the main Hoenn news network, listening as he poured the coffee into his mug.
—"—In other news, recovering from financial ruin and bankruptcy due to their previous two failed projects, the engineering firm, GMH, confirmed several new civil projects around Hoenn after the company's chief executive made a surprise reappearance and announced the enterprise's new partnership with Devon corporation at yesterday's Mossdeep techno-convention, including a contract to construct a brand new rocket launch facility at the very same Mossdeep space center, scheduled to be finished by the end of the year."
The heat of the coffee bit into his lip as he gazed at the screen, which featured the female news anchor shuffling her papers at a desk with the backdrop image featuring Mr. Stone in his signature blue suit shaking hands with another elder gentleman of similar ilk but in a slate-colored suit.
Then the image behind her shifted into a collage consisting of a court hammer and, much to Grey's surprise, a profile picture of Wattson, the Mauville gym leader. The rotund man in the photo looked to be in his sixties, with a white short beard imitating his wide smile and a mostly receded hairline.
What the…
—"The news with GMH doesn't stop there, however, as earlier today, at the supreme court of justice, the company's shareholders opened a civil lawsuit case against the firm's ex-project leader, Tessen Wattson, Mauville's very own electrifying gym leader. GMH representatives stated that, after an extensive investigation reaching back eleven years, it was discovered that the ex-project leader had plenty to account for regarding his alleged 'breach of contract and company confidentiality', which resulted in the financial catastrophic failure and shutdown of both projects 'Sea Mauville' and 'New Mauville', due to the leakage of their intangible assets to the Kanto region's own engineering and tech firm, Silph Co., subsequently resulting in a massive loss of stock value and market share. The PA and sporting commission, as well as League representatives, were quick to make statements in denial of any involvement with the gym leader's actions, claiming them as issues foreign to the League coalition's workings."
"Huh? So the League officials are just going to leave the man hangin', then? Shit, talk about tough love for their work dogs. What a strange coincidence…"
"Is it though?" Asked a now awake Kassadar, floating next to him, with his red crystal light focused on the TV.
Grey gave the aquatic psionic a spare glance. "Yeah, well, it's a bit of a tight timeline between our next mission at Sea Mauville and the next gym we'll be facing after eventually passing Slateport. I can understand GMH's eagerness to begin operations again, but to top it off with a lawsuit against a League-hired gym leader and managing to keep said League coalition and PA out of it? That must've hurt the wallet. Either that or the Sporting and Trade commission already have a replacement in mind, unwilling to spend a dime in Wattson's defense, despite their reputation looking a bit sour because of his actions." Grey took a sip of his coffee. "Though the timing does seem off, somehow."
"Indeed. Perhaps Spark has already caught wind of what transpired with Brawly and is retaliating in some way?"
"But isn't Wattson Spark's great-uncle or something? I don't think he'd do that shit to his own family, not unless he's twisted or has a grudge or something. Then again, 'assumption' is the most fatal mistake one can make, so who knows."
"I concur, the instinct guild leader did put considerable thought into planning your defeat, however, I fail to see what Wattson has to do with it all."
Grey finished his coffee and placed the mug on the table with a soft clink. "Speaking of his plans, I distinctly remember that Brawly had recently acquired his 'Mega stone' from a traveling merchant over a week or two ago, and like Rustboro port, Dewford has its own wharf market…A merchant with rare artifacts like that must have some clues regarding Spark's intentions if the guy really did plan on Brawly's possession of the stone just to aim for my defeat." Grey hummed a laugh. "Fat load of good that did."
"I see…So that's your plan today."
Yep.
Grey put on his indigo sleeveless cloak on top of his white long-sleeved shirt and moved to turn the doorknob.
"Are you certain we should leave the other three behind?"
Grey gave a glance to the three still dormant poké girls. His lip twitched upward. "Yeah, let em' rest. They'll find the note I wrote them."
The starmie gazed at the folded paper on the table.
A low-pitched reverberating hum rolled within the starfish mon'. It was a strange sound, like the simultaneous murmuring of a choir.
Amusement echoed in their psi-kinetic link. Was Kassadar…Laughing?
"Have you forgotten?"
Forgotten what?
"...They cannot read."
"...Oh. Shit."
Again, the humming resounded. But as he gazed at Ginger's form expanding and contracting slightly with every breath, he remembered how Themis had exchanged primary knowledge with him during the battle against Brawly…Grey had an idea.
"Kassadar, could you somehow teach them to 'read' using 'my' knowledge?"
"...Certainly, an easy task, especially now that they are asleep for easier information absorption and retention. Plus it is a useful skill to have for a pokémon, contrary to popular belief."
The violet ten-pointed star swerved and focused his attention on the bunker beds.
A surge of soft electric tingling spread across Grey's brain.
"Close your eyes and concentrate. Try to remember and flash through every word you know and its definition in their base written language. Every aspect. It will facilitate my access to your level of literary knowledge and facilitate the process."
Grey did as instructed, taking care not to over-expose his knowledge of certain written words or phrases from sensitive documents that could link back to his past, only focusing on the more general yet broadly used everyday vocabulary which would suffice.
The sensation was bizarre, just like it had been with Themis, though in this case the information was only extracted. He could actually feel his memories getting literally tugged on like shape memory gelatin, resulting in translucent ghostly copies of his mental imagery before they were released and reformed.
This happened for a few minutes before his neurons relaxed, with the psionic pressure lessening and becoming normal again.
"It is done. When they wake up, they will be surprised to learn they can understand most of the human written language."
Grey smiled. "Awesome, so now they can read the note, which means they can keep resting. Thanks, Kass', now let's go and see if our esteemed target merchant is in town."
He opened the door, gently closed it behind him, and together they passed the pokémon center's reception desk before the Dewford Nurse Joy stumbled over clumsily toward them.
"Wait, sir!"
He turned. "Hmm?" This particular nurse joy was a bit younger than the previous ones, she was identical but closer to May's age and had hazel eyes…Actually, how was May doing? Thoughts for later.
"Oh, good morning, Nurse Joy, how can I help you?"
She held a parcel in her hand and gave him a sheepish smile, offering the item to him. "T-This is a parcel I was meant to give you yesterday."
"Huh? From who?"
"From a lady who had come looking for you, she said her name was Evelyn Maison. But apparently, you were out and she could not wait for you, so she left it with me."
"Maison?" He asked, receiving the parcel. "Huh. Hope it's not a death threat…" He mumbled.
"Sorry?"
He caught himself. "Ah! Umm, I-I mean how was Evelyn's Primeape? I 'heard' he had an odd condition on his appendages."
The young nurse smiled. "Oh, he was fine, though I've never quite seen anything like it. But the healing tank disinfected the wounds and they were all better!" she said, beaming with innocence and holding her hands behind her back.
Whew! Lawsuit averted! Though I still need to have that talk with Neva…
"Right. I guess that settles the question. Thanks for the delivery."
She took a deep apologetic bow. "I'm so sorry for forgetting and giving it to you so late!" She cried.
"No no, that's fine. You've got a whole bunch of stuff to worry about, much less needing to deliver things. Thanks again."
She rose with a glad smile. "No problem! If you'll excuse me." She pinched her skirt and gave a courteous bow before returning to the desk.
So that's what the Nurse Joys look like when they're younger.
He returned his attention to the parcel and unwrapped it.
It was a glossy Mystic enforcer badge the size of his palm in the same shape as the Mystic logo; an ice blue hexagonal frame with an extended bottom corner, like a crystal. Breaking out of the frame was the profile silhouette of a bird with a three-pointed crest on its head, extended wings, and a long silky tail feather billowing to the right and curving out back to the left.
It reminded him of that picture he saw in the pearly hallway back in the Mystic base at Rustboro. A bird pokémon?
The badge came with a badge wallet that also held his new enforcer ID, which held the same photo as his normal profile, but now officially identified him as a Mystic enforcer and member:
Mystic Leader Guild
Constable Force
Rank: Enforcer
Name: Grey Wilson
D.O.B: 6/11/55
Badge number: M1201HN
'Evolution of mind for true progression and unity of all sapience.'
There was a note with the parcel, written in perfect cursive calligraphy:
Dear Grey, our guild master had kindly asked me to bring your badge to you, as the new recruitment badges were still being processed after you left Rustboro, but finished before I left. In desperation to heal Aldo of the odd status condition after our previous battle, I had forgotten to pass it over to you, for this, I apologize. I tried finding you at the pokémon center yesterday, but you were out. I would've waited to meet you again, but I'm on a strict deadline to pass Dewford gym and head out to Slateport.
I also needed to speak with you privately on an important matter that has only recently come to my attention, but I believe another occasion will present itself, perhaps on another mission or overlapping of paths. I write to you in this manner, rather than simply texting you, because I don't want certain individuals knowing of my intentions or seeing our conversing too frequently, in person or online.
Eyes and ears are 'everywhere', Grey, be careful…Until we meet again.
Yours truly,
Evelyn Chatelain Maison.
PS: Congratulations on your win against Brawly, btw.
How the hell did she know of his win?
"You seriously need to check up on your profile. You haven't looked at it since you departed from Birch's lab, how do you keep forgetting to do that?"
"Shut up, I'm sleepy," grumbled Grey as he fit the badge into the wallet and placed it into his jacket pocket. "Though this badge couldn't have come at a better time. I'll probably need it from here on out."
"Indeed. It was rather considerate of Evelyn to bring the badge to you and write the letter, but her wording concerns me."
Why?
"We discussed the timing of these events earlier, and now this 'something' that had caught her attention…"
We'll deal with that when the time comes. For now, one thing at a time.
They finally left the pokécenter toward the Dewford seaport district. The sulfide of the sea racked his nose as Grey and Kassadar strode along the port, heading toward a structure that partially enclosed a long open-spaced area sheltered by a white aluminum canopy, with its crisscrossing support beams stretching all along the eastern end of the wharf around a hundred yards inland.
This was Dewford's Wharf market.
Rows of market stalls and tents of all sizes, shapes, and colors filled the area to the back. Some kiosks and shops dotted the enclosure in between the mobile merchants, with the discordant hum-drum of people percussing all around.
The blend of spicy and sweet aromas wafting through the air was a welcome change to the port smell. It was enough to send his stomach into a growl.
Hey Kass', want something to eat?
"That is fine, thanks. I already absorbed some plankton from the port waters."
Ok, when the hell did you do that?
"I levitated them up within globs of water and inhaled them. You just didn't notice."
Oh…Cool.
"Not cool. You should expand and train your psychic senses to the point it becomes your second natural sight. If I were an assassin, those globs of water could've been shot at you at high speed, enough to kill."
Grey pouted at the starfish.
…You waited for me to bring up the subject of food just to chastise me for that, didn't you.
"It's called 'clairvoyance', and you've already experienced temporal moments of it. You have potential, and we live in a dangerous world. The quicker you develop, the better."
Right.
Grey bought some mocha-flavored 'poképuffs' from a confectionary stand. They were muffin-like sweets that were first invented in the Kalos region. The elderly lady at the stand had ordered some particular ingredients for the recipe from said region, the same from where Mega stones hailed. So Grey took the opportunity to ask her if there was anyone in the wharf market that dealt with artifacts from there, hoping she may know someone from market rep alone. To his dismay, she didn't as she was new to the market. But she did recommend he see the Wharf manager who held a registry of the market participants and their general trade type.
He thanked the lady and moved back toward the entrance, where an office booth stood at the corner.
"I believe you wanted to do this from the start, what made you so privy to it?"
I hate going through paperwork, but I guess using my authority as an enforcer would make it easier, and we can't take too much time wandering the whole area, we've still got a mission to undergo. So I changed my mind.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
"There's something you're not telling me."
I was going to look for something else, but maybe another time.
Kassadar didn't seem convinced if the slight tension in their mental tether was anything to go by, but he didn't press further.
Grey chomped on one of the poképuffs, amazed at how the texture melted in his mouth and the solid flavor of mocha aroused his palate, before arriving with his Mystic enforcer badge at the ready.
A man opened it up. "Yeah, whaddya wan—" He stopped and paled at the sight of him. "Y-you're Grey Wilson!" stated the man. He was somewhere in his forties, with signs of greying hair on his short-cropped hair and wearing a factory denim overall that had seen better days.
The other-worlder almost smirked at the man's expression though didn't appreciate the aftermath of media attention. "Good afternoon, sir. And yeah, that's me." He said, holding up his badge.
He eyed the ID. "You're from the Mystic leader guild. H-how I can I help you, good sir?"
It seemed people were often nervous around leader guild enforcers, more so than around the actual police. Convenient, though worrisome.
Grey replaced his card and held a hand in the air to calm the gentleman. "Nothing serious, I'm just lookin' for a particular merchant who deals in extra-regional artifacts. I'll need to see the trader's registry for today's market, if that's ok?" He said with a subtle raising of his brow to indicate a 'test of authority' with pragmatic politeness.
"Y-yeah, sure, sure." The man reached for a clipboard hanging at the end of the booth with a detailed list clipped to it and passed it over. "Here ya' go, sir."
"Thanks." Grey received it and dragged a finger down the list.
Let's see…It could either be under exclusive luxuries, or artisanry, collectibles, and…Oh? Only one listed under 'Rare commodities'...Shops' called 'Ray's Rares'...Huh.
"How often does this one come about?" Asked Grey, showing and pointing to the section.
The manager read it and hummed to himself. "Ah, that fellow comes around twice or thrice a month and stays around until he sells most of his goods. He's a traveler who finds all sorts of rare trinkets and 'treasures' from around the world. But between you and me, though? Most of the stuff's garbage that'll just end up bein' a paperweight on an office desk. But…sometimes he brings a few interesting valuables, like certain 'gemstones' and ancient artifacts that attract some fancy-pants who pay big rolls for such."
"Fancy-pants? You mean rich people?"
The man grunted and folded his arms. "Yep, notably rich little bratty trainers who've got too much time on their snobbish hands, or pompous farts trying to impress their date…though sometimes, serious young men around your age come right over to me askin' for Ray."
"Oh? So these men never bother with anything else in the market and specifically search for him? Seem's like the man has some reputation."
The manager creased his brow in thought. "I suppose. On some occasions, Ray sits with some of the other traders and sailors during their lunch break and dinner. Whips' up a few fantastical tales of his travels and whatnot." He smirked and shook his head. "But I think most of em's just some campfire hooey. He even one time said he encountered some mythical beasts in his voyages and how he took on some pirates at sea and even stole their stolen treasures, some of which he shamelessly sold in this very market…Ha! Silly, I know, but he tells a good story to pass the time though, I'll admit."
"Right. Where's his tent?"
The man pointed at the back of the market. "At the far end of the Wharf, near the back corner. Ya' can't miss it, it's the one sporting the flag of an eclipsed sun with a faded yellow background…He's not in some trouble, is he?"
"No. I'm just making some inquiries for an indirectly related case."
The manager raised a thick brow. "Ah, I see."
Grey thanked the man, returning the registry list and leaving the booth straight toward the back.
So…'Ray' is specifically sought after by particular adult men at the most convenient of times upon his every return to the market…Up to three times a month…
I smell a black market dealer.
"Of?" asked Kassadar.
They approached the tent now, sporting the indicated flag, its fabric heavily sun-bleached with bird-dropping stains streaking across it. A male customer, sporting a high collared black jacket was thanking the person in the tent before he picked up a steel briefcase and skulked past Grey without a glance at him.
We're about to find out.
Grey waltzed over to the large tent, the entry of which a black-clothed table blocked, exhibiting numerous metallic trinkets, jewelry, gem-studded knives, and smoking pipes, as well as quartz stones and other semi-precious gems of varying crystalline formations, along with a glass container showcasing some polished yet worn artifacts with etchings, ranging from bracelets to daggers and…weird-looking balls that eerily resembled 'pokéballs', but of wooden texture and with some kind of dial or clip-lock instead of a button—"
"How ya' doin', young maan'," said a deep voice from within the shadow of the tent. The man phased out of the shade, revealing himself to be of a large thick build, taller than Grey, with shapely arms and a wide back.
He was of dark complexion, somewhere between his late thirties or early forties, with rows of girthy dreadlocks pulled back into a ponytail, and a mostly well-kempt beard with a small hair tie at its point, keeping it in form. He wore a mustard-colored open sleeveless cloak with thick collars and golden buckles, like that of a ship admiral's, with nothing under except several necklaces stringed with an assortment of bones over his exposed and impressively scarred torso. Blue ragged jeans wrapped his legs with leather fold-over boots to finish.
The aroma of high-quality tobacco wavered in the sea draft as the man puffed on a Cuban cigar, billowing thick tendrils of smoke from his thick lips and nostrils like a steam engine.
If anything he gave the impression of a pirate rather than a trader, but other than that, he seemed what could be standardized as 'normal'…Except for his eyes.
They were a pure silver that seemingly clouded over his irises, as though they had been blighted by the inconceivable radiance of an ancient golden god, though clearly, he wasn't blind as his eyes widened and gleamed in scrutiny. Grey could even see his distorted reflection in the man's eyes as they beheld him closer.
"Ahh, I heard of you', you're dat' Wilson fella' from da' Oldale incident and a memba' of da' leada' guild Mystic. An enforsa', ye'?" He said, taking another drag of his cigar and holding it with his fingertips now.
"And you must be Ray. Seems you've earned a reputation around these parts yourself." Grey picked up one of the gem-encrusted smoking pipes, observing the topaz gleaming off its sides. "But I take it these trinkets are just a distraction from what you're really selling under that table."
The man gave a toothy yellow grin and chuckled. "Ha! What dey' say be true, den', a serious one' ya' are." He narrowed his gaze in curiosity but kept his smile.
"Don't worry, I'm only here because I want to ask about the Mega stone you sold Brawly…And about your connection with Spark Lighton. For personal reasons."
Ray hummed. "Ah, but dat's not da' only reason ya' be comin' to a place like dis', ya' be lookin' for sometin' else on top. A practical young maan', it's no wonda' I was asked to give da' Mega stone to young Brawly. One look atcha' and I know ya' be' a hard maan' to take down. I tink' you won dat' match, ye'?"
"So you were asked by Spark Lighton to give Brawly the stone then?"
Ray took another drag of his cigar.
"...No."
Grey took a moment to register the negative response before he realized his initial hypothesis was wrong…"What? Then who was it?"
Ray held the smoke stick at his lips as he lifted a thick hand to his face and scratched his beard. "I can't say."
"You can't…or you won't?" asked Grey, narrowing his eyes.
"While I might agree dat' ya' boy Spark could have reasons to be watchin' ya', da' lad's got notin' to do with da' stone. And I can't say who, because da' client spoke to me tru' a messengah'. It's not difficult or uncommon foa' a guild leada' to buy expensive goods like Mega stones demselves', dere' be no need foa' men like Spark to hide behind errand bois'...But I can say, for someone to be askin' for sometin' like dat' just to see ya' lose, dey've got some serious cash to be trowin' around."
Grey ran a hand down his face, grunting in annoyance. "Oh, shit…are you saying someone else is working with him to fuck me over?"
"Maybe. Could be. Probably," Ray said with a shrug. "But one ting' be cleah', maan'...Dere' be a great many dangas' asides from pokémon; dangas' dat' ya' best ready foa' when dey' come..."
Grey returned the smoking pipe and raised a brow. "Oh? Might you be referring to certain people? Criminal organizations? Meta-humans? I'm well aware of those."
The man's eyes glowed for a moment as his smile turned into a smirk and he slowly shook his head, blowing out a plume of smog.
"'When dey' come'...I nevah' said dey' were present…At least, not yet."
…Well, that's fuckin' ominous.
Grey frowned, wondering if the man spent every moment of his life high or boozed.
"Riiight. Might you know anything else about your client? What was his messenger wearing? Any tattoos?"
"Just a basic business suit, maan'. Notin' strange dat' I rememba'." Ray dragged a collapsable chair forward and slowly took a seat at the table. "Dere' be notin' else I can say about da' client." Ray finished, scrutinizing Grey's hands in particular focus.
Grey's index finger flexed for a moment from discomfort at the man's scrutiny, before Ray hummed as though confirming something to himself, and held his gaze once more. "Now…how bout' we get to da' otta' reason an enforsah' like yourself be wonderin' dese' parts, eh? Lookin' for sometin' particula'?"
Kassadar, try to break into his mind. See what you can glean off him.
The starmie floating next to him only remained silent as Grey leaned over the table, placed his hands on the edge, and furrowed his brow. "I'm not done yet. I need every detail I can get about this client of yours. It could mean the difference between the life and death of me or my pokémon partners."
"Grey…" Pinged Kassadar.
Ray grinned. "Ah', so it be protection, den', eh? Well, I've got just da' ting' for ya', maan'." He said as he leaned down to the side and felt for an item under the table while keeping eye contact.
The Mystic enforcer growled. "Stop avoiding the question, stop trying to make a buck out of me, and just answer."
"Grey…"
What is it, Kass!? I'm busy here.
"I'm unable to enter his mind, or rather…he has some kind of barrier, but it's nothing like a psychic's…It's almost like his mind is just…Empty. Void…Null."
What!?
In one quick movement, Ray shoved aside the contents of the table like they were meaningless scrap, pulled out a similar steel briefcase, slammed it on the table, opened and twirled it around for Grey to see the contents.
It took Grey a few blinks to realize what he was looking at before the blood drained from his face—
"What the fuck!?" Grey slammed the case shut and quickly looked to each side, hoping no one else saw it before he glared at the idiot trader. "Are you fucking crazy? You can't just expose something like that out of nowhere!" He hissed.
Ray flashed a coy and toothy smile, clearly amused as he spread his arms placatively. "Relax, maan', no one's around. It's why I choose to conduct business at da' end of da' wharf."
"Jesus Christ, I knew you were some kind of dealer, but not of 'that'."
Ray's brow shot up and his eyes glimmered. "Oh? Not 'Arceus', but 'Jesus Christ'? Dat's a first for my ears, and trust me, I've been 'around',"—he tilted his head in curiosity—"sometin' be tellin' me' ya' ain't from around hea', Mista' Wilson."
Ah shit.
Grey's heartbeat quickened. "That's none of your business."
Ray chuckled. "True, but as soon as ya' saw my product, ya' got spooked like ya' seen a ghost or sometin', and yet ya' haven't made a move on me yet, Mista' 'enforsa'. Dat' can only mean,"—Ray slowly reopened the briefcase with a click—"'My' business interests 'you'. Dis' is wha'cha came lookin' foa', ye?"
The other-worlder took a deep breath as he gazed at the contents of the briefcase anew. They brought distant memories flooding back to his mind with the intensity of a killer wave in a pitch-black storm.
"I really wish you didn't show me this."
Ray's silver irises bore into him. "I'm not sure ya' really mean dat'. Ya' hands and ya' eyes are like a book of ya' past to me now…I can see da' hurt in dem'...I can see da' hate…But I can also see da' will to protect…And da' best way to do dat'? Is to do it in da' best way ya' know how, Mista' Wilson…If dat' be ya' real name."
Grey could only close his eyes to stop himself from looking at the thing.
"And I can also see ya' appreciation of such craft…Ya' can't stop lookin' at ha' no matta' how hard ya' try…Just like ya' past. I know da' desire to protect. I have a little boi' back in Alola,"—he raised the back of his fists—"and I'd give anytin' to go back and protect him wit' my own hands." He lowered his arms, resting them on his knees, and shook his head slowly in melancholy. "But I'm not allowed back dere'...It's a good ting' his strong grandaddy be dere' to raise da' boi…But it's not da' same, Mista' Wilson. Yet you—"
Ray's thick hand grabbed Grey's wrist and with ease pulled his own hand onto the cold metal of the object, jolting his half-dead nerves to life and stealing a shivery breath from him.
"—Have dat' powa'...Don't waste it."
Ray released his wrist and Grey ran his fingertips along the smooth metal before he removed them off the object and gazed at the man once more, eyeing the cigar.
"You sell?"
Ray smiled and passed an open cigar case with a flip lighter made of bone beside the assortment of different pre-cut tobacco-filled sticks. Grey took the slimmest one, placed it between his lips, and lit her up, taking a deep drag and filling his lungs. Electric tobacco-induced dopamine tingled his brain. The sensation brought about memories of past comrades in the good times between the bad.
God, I needed that.
He exhaled and found himself able to gaze at the briefcase's content before he looked at Ray.
"Got a place where I can take her for a spin?"
A golden grin parted the trader's face. "All ya' had to do was just ask, Mista' Wilson…"
…They returned to the stand without much attention from other people asides from how most of the other traders and sailors greeted Ray like a brother and a friend.
The traveling trader set the briefcase containing the items on the table again and looked into Grey's eyes.
"So, I trust da' products be' to ya' likin'?"
A couple walked past the stand with a small yellow and lime-green canine mon' panting contently and trailing behind them.
"You mean the cigars?" Asked Grey, half out of jest and half out of inconspicuousness as he eyed the strange flat and elongated dog following its owners. He exhaled. "Shit yeah, but how am I going to carry the extra loads? My backpack isn't exactly big enough."
Ray smiled as he pulled out a desert-colored convertible duffle bag with a handgrip and shoulder straps. It was slightly bigger than his own backpack at the pokécenter. Grey rose a brow in question but the trader lift a finger to stop him as he stood and turned to the shadow of his tent, returning with two blocks of wood each a few inches short of a meter in length and half as thick. He placed one into the duffle bag with strange ease and made to place the other while watching his reaction.
Surely this had to be for shits and giggles, there was no way the other would—
Grey's line of thought came to an abrupt halt as Ray's forearm sunk into the duffle bag without so much as a push.
…I'm sorry, is it the cigar? Or did he just defy the fucking law of conservation of mass?
Ray removed his arm and Grey immediately peeked over to see that the two blocks of wood seemed…about a fifth smaller than what they were.
"Go on, test it, and feel around inside."
Grey reached into the bag, and his brain wracked itself for an explanation.
He pushed his arm to the side, bumping into the extended limit of the bag and pushed against it while keeping his eye on the outside of it.
It felt as though his arm should've been in front him with the bag bulging out…but it retained its form and his senses for a moment were completely dislocated by the, now old-physics breaking, phenomena in front of him. It was as though his arm on the inside occupied a different dimensional plane yet somehow existed in this one.
It was bizarre that this poké-Earth had such tech during the late 70s.
Ray bellowed out in laughter. "Da' look on ya' face tells me ya' haven't heard of Silph Co. technology. How do ya' tink' pokéballs be workin' and condensin' da' creatures? Hmm?"
Grey hadn't put much thought into that, having long since given up on trying to understand the technical aspects of complex devices.
"Probably something to do with pocket dimensions." He shrugged, trying to seem casual about it. He picked the bag up, weighing it from his hand. "But I'll say it's definitely an impressive piece of work. It even seems to condense the items as soon as they pass the mouth of the bag, making them roughly 20% lighter in theory. Am I right?"
Ray rose a brow at that. "Interestin'. Ya' seem surprised yet well informed and receptive…So, interested?"
Grey exhaled and grinned through the flavored fumes. "I am going to get into a shitload of trouble cause' of you…Name your price."
Ray leaned forward. "Tell me about dis' 'Jesus Christ' fella', and I'll make a solid providah's deal for ya'."
Grey froze for a moment, wondering if he was kidding…
Wait…So I get a discount for basically preaching about a dead religion's messiah from my world…to a pirate trader in the world of pokémon, in order to buy—
He burst into hysterical laughter echoing out in the market. His gut hurt from all the cackling.
Ray rose a brow despite seeming amused himself.
Grey finally settled down, coughing from his fit. "Haha…Oh, oh shit…Sorry, sorry it's just…" He wiped the tears from his eyes. "If you understood my circumstances, you'd get it."
Ray's silver eyes gleamed. "Ah, I see…A tale from a distant land, ye'?"
"You can say that."
The trader leaned over and put his finger tips together. "Den', do we have a deal, Mista' Wilson?"
Grey took his pokédex and dialed Blanche's number.
"...Yo, Blanche…I think I'm gonna' need an advance, it's for the mission…Oh, it'll help, alright…" He grinned.
…
----------------------------------------
Ginger rummaged through Grey's bag like mad, still jarred at the inexplicable and sudden development that met her and the other two upon their awakening.
"Damn it! Where is it!?" She hollered out in frustration, spreading the contents of the bag all around the floor and flipping it over.
"Hey, thunder thighs, I know you're curious and all, like me and Joanna, but I don't think Grey's gonna' be happy about you going through his stuff." Said Neva, reading all the labels on the sealed food products with the packets crumpling in her claws.
The salandit nodded in agreement with the sneasel. "Indeed. I don't know at what time he wrote the note. Considering we have a mission today and the time we woke up, it must've been early. It's best we put his belongs back; he could return from the market at any minute," she said, observing the super potion's tag, now understanding its contents while at the same time fascinated at all the chemical and component names.
The combusken clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Trust me, girls, it was in here. It must have information about him, and he's not here to stop me. I'm not about to pass this opportunity to learn more about him," she replied as she searched every nook of the bag's insides.
The trio gasped as the door lock turned, and Grey loomed into the room, carrying a metal briefcase and a new duffle bag of lighter color, similar to the now empty one Ginger held. He eyed his belongings on the floor and gave them a questioning glare.
For a moment they froze before Neva got up and intervened. "O-oh, hey, Grey. Sorry about the mess. We woke up to find we could read your note. So we got bored of waiting and decided to do some extra reading." The teal sneasel laughed nervously, showing him the food packaging. "The only things we found were the things you've bought and their labels. Might as well know what we're consuming."
Grey scanned them. Ginger's gut sank, wondering if he bought the explanation.
"You can thank Kassadar for that. I didn't want to wake you's and he reminded me that you can't read. So we fixed that before I felt any more foolish writing a note for illiterates. You're welcome." He eyed the combusken who still sat there frozen with the bag in her hands. "Though Ginger seems to have other plans."
She gave a sheepish placative smile. "Oh no, I was just, uh…Looking for something else to read. I already read the other stuff. Yeah, hehe."
"Oh? You mean,"—He pulled out the silver pendant from his pocket—"something like this?" He said, dangling the necklace. The metal plate sheened in the daylight as it swung in his grip.
Her breath quickened at the sight of what she was looking for. Ginger had been dead curious about the silver pendant ever since she had first found it while Grey had been missing. Now that she could read, she had been feverishly seeking for it. But ironically, her chance was lost as the man she sought the truth of, now held it in his hand.
"Oh, w-what a lovely necklace. How come you've never shown it to us?" She excused.
Grey just deadpanned at her.
She sighed and deflated at getting caught out. "Right. Psychic…Grey, I just—"
"You wake up suddenly able to read the human language, and instead of taking a walk through the pokécenter which is literally filled with brochure stands and bookcases, the first thing that occurs to you…is to go through my private shit. No, I think the picture is quite clear."
"I'm sorry." She said, gazing at the carpet.
He sighed. "There's no need to be, I can't be mad at you."
Ginger gazed up at him again. "What?"
He placed the pendant back into his pocket, nowhere near as miffed as she would have expected him to be. "Your assumption is correct. This…'necklace' is something related to my past…I'm just not ready to tell you about it yet." He gazed at her, now with understanding in his amber eyes that somehow seemed…different, like the beginnings of an ember casting its weak light from the bottom of his irises. "You have every right to know who your trainer is. I get that. I just need time."
"R-right," said Ginger, surprised at the return of his calm demeanor…Also, there was a weird carbonized scent on him, overpowering his usual natural aroma, with a chemical acridness to it, yet woody and metallic.
"Just know that no matter what you see me do, especially from this point on…I'm not your enemy, and…" Grey walked to the dining table with his back to them and set the briefcase on the table with the duffle bag. "I know I can be neurotic, or a total dick sometimes, but…I'd do anything to protect you's."
That was…warming, but oddly random.
Neva took a few steps forward. "Grey? You're acting weird…I mean weirder than usual. Something up?"
"...I just need to be alone for a few minutes or so. You three go on and have breakfast. Nurse Joy will get you attended. I'll pick the stuff off the floor, I was gonna' take them out anyway and put them into the new bag, so…I'll join you girls at the cafeteria in a half-hour."
Ginger looked at Neva and Joanna who reflected her worried gaze.
"Ok, sure. We'll see you later."
With that, the trio exited the room, leaving Grey alone with Kassadar, more confused than before and spoke about it on the way to the cafeteria…
...Dewford island was a speck of verdant coast shrinking by the minute as they gained distance from it. The wind blew past Grey's ears and droplets of water sailed the air from the yacht's thrumming engine parting the small waves as he stood behind the rails, reminiscing the life-changing events at such an early part of his journey in this strange world.
The pokégirls stood by him, with Kassadar floating and somehow aligning his gravity with the inertia of the speeding boat, which, thanks to a word from Blanche, the owner agreed to carry them on as close to Sea Mauville's perimeter as possible.
The psychic sea star mentally pinged the entire group. "I believe it's time we regularly practiced our mental defenses from here on out. We know not what lay ahead of us in the mission at Sea Mauville. Remember, there are people and pokémon of the coast guard that have vanished without explanation. Anything could be happening there."
Grey nodded. "Good point. I've got a bit covered down already, but the girls don't know much about it. And I don't think Neva requires it too much, seeing as she's dark-type…Right?" He asked, gazing at the pulsating jewel core.
"Mostly incorrect. While psychic types can have difficulty against dark-typed minds, they can still penetrate if their personality or secondary traits allow them to attune and understand the workings of the dark-type psycho-waves. This is partially how Themis was able to glean information from Neva's mind."
The sneasel jumped at that, shocked at the apparent implications. "What!? How!? I didn't even know she did that!"
"That is how dangerous psychics can be. Also, while the prior is intimate with the raw mental state, Dark-types understand the workings of 'the heart' or the raw instincts, which means they can play with your emotions until they get what they want. A basic example is 'Taunting', and not in the traditional sense. In simpler terms, one is a psycho-kinetic, and the other is a patho-kinetic. Not all Dark-types can do this profficiently, however…"
"Patho-kinesis? Shit, that's even more intimidating," commented Grey.
"What is that?" Asked Ginger, interested to learn more.
Neva glanced at the combusken. "What's this? Intersted in the dark arts? Feeling at home, eh, Feather head?" She said with a coy grin.
Ginger's eyes widened briefly before she crossed her arms and turned her gaze. "Pfft. Like hell. I just want to be careful of it, that's all."
Grey hummed a laugh at their innocent bickering. "Patho-kinesis is the ability to manipulate the emotions of those within close proximity. It's the one thing that can defeat a telekinetic, who requires extreme focus and emotional stability to fully control their psychic powers. I assume this is one of the reasons Dark-types are immune to most psychics since they work on different wavelengths. But I don't think they're immune to other dark-types on a fundamental level, and some psychics may be familiar with how a dark-type's wavelengths work and can take advantage of that. Since Themis is the emotion-pokémon, I find it strange that the pokédex classifies her as psychic and fairy type."
"Indeed. The psychic, dark and fairy types have a strange synonymous yet antagonistic relationship with each other. Though I must say, I am of the opinion that the 'Fairy-type' is the most dangerous of the three.
That surprised Grey to hear it from Kassadar himself. "Oh? Why's that?"
"The same reason Themis was able to quintessentially relocate your internal damage. They harness the power of strange extra-dimensional phenomena that both defy conventional logic and toy with the instincts. I believe it is thanks to the skillful amalgamation of both psychic and fairy techniques, more than anything else, that Themis is able to somehow bypass a psychic's limitations when it comes to dark types…But alas, for now, Neva's current level of safety is agreeable in comparison to the vulnerability Ginger and Joanna have. I will start with you two."
Joanna and Ginger nodded and walked closer to Kassadar.
Grey walked over to Neva and stared at her. "Good, then that means I can speak with Neva in private. I've been putting off our conversation for long enough." The sneasel squirmed in place at that, clearly knowing what topic was to be addressed.
The group split into two parts, with Kassadar instructing the combusken and salandit to close their eyes on one corner, and Grey heading to the boat's cabin followed by Neva.
It was a simple compact room with a faux wood desk and drawer, as well as a plain single bed.
"Take a seat." Motioned Grey with a calm gesture. Neva tottered to the desk chair and plopped herself on it.
"So what's this about, Grey?"
He narrowed his gaze. "About this 'ability' of yours. I want you to forget everything I told you and not use it…Ever." He stated with a graveness in his tone as he crossed his arms.
Her crimson eyes drooped to the floor. "You're ashamed of me, aren't you?"
He breathed in. "No. Of course not. If anything, it's my fault. I should never have said those things to you about the dark zone and the immaterium…It's not something you should be delving too deep into. Stick with basic shadow manipulation and start mastering patho-kinesis instead."
"But why!?" She hollered out with a break in her voice like a rebellious teen would their parent.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, lamenting her petulance and wondering how the hell he was going to explain it to her…before he shook his head and returned his glare. "Because that monster you keep summoning…isn't normal."
She tilted her head at that. "Not 'normal'?"
He knelt down in front of her to level his gaze. "No, it's not. I noticed its massive growth when it basically steamrolled Aldo, Evelyn's primeape, and it has me extremely concerned. Sooner or later, it will outgrow your influence, and I fear that if you summon it again, it might attack 'you' instead."
"He wouldn't do that!"
Grey raised a brow at her. "So it's got a gender now? Have you been speaking to it?"
"N-no…" She denied, looking to the side idly and twiddling her claws."
"If you want to learn patho-kinesis to a higher degree, you've gotta' control your own emotions first. Right now, you're an open book to me, and I know you're lying."
"I'm not!" She pouted.
Grey surprised her and held Neva by the shoulders now. "Listen to me…I think I…may have seen that thing somewhere before, in a story to be exact."
Little did Neva know that he was referring to a previous-Earth fictional concept of the type of being he had in mind.
Her eyes widened at this. "Really?"
He nodded. "Yeah…And they never stop eating."
Neva's eyes glistened in fear at that. "W-what do you mean?"
"I mean, all they do is just consume everything around them indiscriminately."
"Don't humans and pokémon do that too? In a way?"
…He let out a nervous chuckle. "That's a good point, but we do that for survival and we can make the conscious decision that we're satisfied…But that thing? Its hunger is endless. You might not realize it, but every time you call it out, it will suck you of your energy to maintain its surreal presence in a world that rejects its very design and essence…Why do you think it only comes out of the shadow?"
"I-I guess because he's comfortable there."
"Kind of. It's literally the only place it can exist without much of an effort, and therefore it doesn't require your energy to live 'there'...But whenever you call it, you become its door to the world, and only you can shut the 'door' to pull it back…But tell me, Neva…What happens if the door 'breaks'?"
"The room is always…open?"
He nodded. "Exactly."
"But I can control him, Grey! He understands me!"
"How do you know it's the 'same one'?"
"I…" She stuttered for a moment.
"You don't know, do you?"
"It just…Feels the same. I guess."
He shook his head. "Regardless, Neva, it's too dangerous. Would you put the group in danger just to keep this power? Joanna? Ginger? Kassadar?...Me?"
"Well, no, not as long as I can control it—"
"It almost killed Aldo. Had I not said something, might you have reacted on time?"
"I…I…" Neva was conflicted and creased her brow from her turbulent emotions.
He patted her shoulder and got up. "Neva, do the right thing, and stay away from it…I can't have you risk the group because of it."
"But—"
The room tilted to the side with a heavy thump and Grey staggered forward, barely keeping himself from falling on a shocked Neva.
"What the fu—"
A ferocious roar ruptured the air and some yelling could be heard outside with the boat still rocking.
He rose a brow at the sneasel who just shrugged. "Don't look at me, I didn't do anything."
"We'll continue this later, but that sounds a lot more pressing," he said, dashing out of the cabin and onto the back deck from where the sound came.
The previously clear sky was painted dark with oppressive swirling thunderclouds and the water was unsettled by unnatural ripping winds.
Ginger, Joanna, and Kassadar were all gazing upward at a huge serpentine figure looming over the boat and blotting out whatever light the sun could provide through the muddy sky.
The sea creature rumbled out a savage growl that vibrated Grey's very core and sent him into a shiver with his neurons ringing in alarm.
"I'm getting real tired of the fucking ocean…"
…