Pitiful sobs were muffled through the wall. Outside the room, Raymond sat on the hallway floor with a stone-faced gaze, staring into the darkness. Alakazam's voice rang in his mind.

Do you regret your decision?

"Salandit's death is a necessity that gives the girl the right drive for whatever lies ahead. Sooner or later she was bound to have such an experience. In the long run, it will make her stronger."

Or destroy her. Please don't get lost in the monster you created. I agreed to all of this because I hope that you escape the circle of drain, not push yourself deeper into it. Train her. Educate her. And I will support you with all my strength. But you must let yourself get involved with her as a person.

Raymond sighed. He knew his old friend was right. It was time to make amends, even if Sal would never understand the extent of his efforts. Not that he deserved her sympathy. For that it was too late. He had crossed another bridge, and then burned it. Was that his legacy? Scorched earth wherever he set foot.

No, not just scorched earth. The ashes from a fire could provide new nutrients to the soil. It could cause something new to blossom. Fragile as it was, it was the only hope he could cling to. His fingers touched the release mechanism of a Poké Ball that still felt foreign in his age-scarred hand. It was time to plant a new seed.

"Come on out."

A wave of emotions bounced off the mental barrier Raymond had erected around himself. He felt anger, grief and fear; but those feelings weren't his own. They remained distant sensations with no prospect of reaching him.

"I know perfectly well that you can understand me. Likewise, I can understand if you hate me and that this situation will probably never change, no matter how hard I try. Just know that I bear no ill will towards you."

Raymond hesitated for a second.

"First of all, I want to thank you for not trying to attack me. Your restraint so far suggests an exceptional intelligence or an extraordinarily high level of empathy. Both are talents that I value very much in a Pokémon; and you will need both for the task, no, the request that I am approaching you with today."

Behind the rejection and anger that hit Raymond's mental barrier like a storm surging against a dike, there was another emotion. Compassion. Raymond suppressed a smile; it would have been completely inappropriate at that moment.

"You feel it too, don't you? The overwhelming grief over a broken bond. A loss that leaves a loneliness in the heart that words cannot describe. Concentrate on these feelings. They are not just yours."

Raymond gestured with one hand to the door to his room.

"Behind this door a girl falls prey to the same loneliness that plagues and consumes you too. She has just found out that one of her companions has been killed. Just like your master was killed by me. Through a conflict that was never yours, you have both suffered a loss. You may hate me, despise me, and wish for my downfall - whatever negative feelings you may have towards me, I do not return them. For I know your nature. And I sincerely hope you will be to this girl what she can be to you. A lifeline.

"You can help each other overcome your grief. That girl's situation is the consequence of everything your old master stood for. Unlike him and me, she is innocent. Whatever she did, she did it with the sole desire to survive. You and her are two sides of the same coin. Please get to know her. She is capable of making you see further than you currently can. What I am offering you is a way out. As despicable as he may seem to you. Consider my offer in your Poké Ball."

This time the Pokémon willingly followed into its ball as Raymond triggered the mechanism.

Devoid of all his strength, Raymond waited in front of the young girl's bedroom door until she cried herself to sleep. It was the least he owed her. After a while, he carefully opened the door. Like two shining spotlights, Zorua's watchful eyes stared in his direction. Once again he felt emotions hitting his mental barrier. But weaker than with the Pokémon before.

Gratitude. Concern.

Zorua’s worried eyes turned to Sal.

"You truly are a nightwatch. Don't worry, within my rooms no harm will befall you," Raymond commented and quietly approached the bed. When he got there, he pulled the warm blanket over Sal's fragile-looking body after Zorua nodded in approval.

"Whatever your life has been like so far, I offer you a chance to escape the misery that surrounds you."

Zorua's eyes sparkled like a diamond in darkness. Raymond felt her curiosity, her suspicion, and her skepticism. Only then did he notice the outline of Haunter in the background, slowly emerging from the shadows. Raymond met the ghost's piercing gaze. Haunter was out for blood - that much was obvious even to Raymond, who was far from an expert on occult Pokémon. As Haunter's eyes began to change color, the old man's face contorted.

"Don't you dare!"

Raymond's voice was like the menacing hiss of a poisonous snake about to seize its prey. From the hallway came the deep growl of Houndoom. Haunter held Raymond's gaze, but after a while his eyes returned to their normal color. Knowing he couldn't win this fight, the ghost slowly retreated into the shadows.

"Don't forget it was I who saved you. Without my intervention, you would probably have met the same fate as your fellow soldier. And she would have suffered something worse."

Raymond's gaze turned to Zorua at the last words. It wasn't lost on him that she had sent a pulse of dark energy in Haunter's direction before he emerged from the shadows. Was it an attempt to test him? Had he underestimated Zorua's natural cunning?

"Like I said, for now you are safe. As long as you behave yourselves, no harm will befall you."

Raymond gently pulled the door closed behind him. It closed with a quiet click.

A soothing fire crackled in the living room. The flickering glow of dancing flames mesmerized Raymond. He sipped slowly from a glass filled with whiskey. Today it didn't taste as good as other days.

Victoria was right. The similarity is striking.

The firelight cast Alakazam's shadow against the wall. The Pokémon hovered a few centimeters above the ground in a meditating posture.

"I don't have time to dwell on such sentimentality. It is like it is. She is gone and we are still here. Nothing else matters."

Your fear leads you to make mistakes.

"Every plan has uncertainties."

Your plan didn't envisage her ending up in the hospital, but in a police station.

"Nor did my plan foresee that she would be foolish enough to rely on an illusion as a shield and turn her back on her opponent at a critical moment. Which, by the way, only strengthens my resolve to start her training immediately. She needs to work on her decision-making and become stronger if she is to be of any use to us. As fast as possible."

She's still a child.

"No, she is not. Not anymore for a long time," Raymond replied firmly. "She is a symbol of everything that has been wrong in Kalos since the war ended. Like many of her generation, she is lost; without prospects for a better future. A runaway with untapped potential who - in order to survive - was driven into crime by society.

On top of that, she managed to bind Zorua and Haunter to her. Despite all her shortcomings, she is remarkable. If we do it right, she could become an unpredictable force. All we have to do is equip her with the knowledge and skills to fully realize her potential. And give a little nudge in the right direction."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

You may not admit it to yourself, but deep down you know she's more than a weapon. She is hope. Also for you. You've still got time

Raymond clicked his tongue in disapproval, then took another sip. It took a few seconds for the liquid to work its way down his throat to warm his insides. It tasted noticably more bitter than before.

"Time is running out, for both of us, I fear."

~~*~~

Raymond opened the door to his bedroom. With his other hand he clutched a wooden tray containing a loaf of bread spread with jam and a cup of hot chocolate. He placed the gesture of his goodwill on the small bedside table and looked at Sal. Since the early hours of the morning, the girl had been staring apathetically out of the window. By now the sky was starting to change color to usher in the evening hours.

So far the two had not spoken a word. Not even looked at each other. Occasionally Raymond would come into the room with food and drink, put it down and some time later exchange it for something new. There was a calming, mechanical-seeming routine to the process, which was now interrupted for the first time

"You must not give in to your sadness. It clouds your mind and leaves you listless. To make matters worse, while you are in an environment that is unfamiliar to you; moreover in company by someone whose intentions are incomprehensible to you."

Sal turned her head towards him. Their eyes met.

"Just tell me what you want from me, or fuck off," she said dully. Sal knew that every person had their worth. Hers had skyrocketed yesterday. The old man had hardly bothered to free her from the hospital if she or her abilities were replaceable to him. And yet… the opportunity that meant so much to her a few days ago now felt hollow and empty. Like a distant dream from another life where the world still had colors. But those were just thoughts in the background. An indistinct noise that she barely noticed anymore.

"We're going out tonight. Over there in the closet you'll find some sweaters and coats. Put on warm clothes and then come into the living room. Afterwards you will receive your answers."

Sal nodded. She waited until her rescuer had left the room before she freed herself from the cozy blanket and stood up. Her feet touched the cold ground. A shiver of ice coursed through her body. Instinctively she reached for her back. When her hands felt the familiar scar tissue, Sal calmed down. Every step toward the closet was difficult. Her legs trembled and with every little movement her leaden body howled in pain. She was sick of feeling so weak!

"Fuck."

One look into the large mirror showed her the miserable state she was in: Sal looked like a drug addict who only lived for the next kick. Bloodshot eyes and sunken facial features were evidence of a serious lack of sleep.

She was sure that she hadn't slept as much as she had in the last few days since her escape from the orphanage. Still, she didn't feel recovered in the slightest. In the closet, Sal found rows of sweaters, shirts, pants and socks. All arranged meticulously according to color and pattern and all too big for her. Her frustration grew as she examined her rescuer's wardrobe.

"Why does he need so many clothes?"

The lack of hooded clothing only added to her frustration. In the end, Sal chose a dark gray sweater. The only remotely suitable jacket she found was a beige cardigan. She put her hair into place and pulled a dark scarf she had found over her nose. With another look in the mirror she could easily tell that her clothes were too big and looked out of place. At least they did the job of keeping her warm. Sal wasn't worried someone could notice the burn scars on her face. Trix would make sure they disappeared. Just like she always did.

With bewildered eyes, Sal entered Ray's living room. Shelves lined up one after the other. Some reached as high as the ceiling. They were all crammed full of books. Somewhere in the room a table, a couch and armchairs had found a place. They stood opposite a fireplace in which a warm fire was crackling. Raymond sat in one of the armchairs, eyeing Sal with a mixture of disapproval and admiration.

"It is astonishing that, with such a colourful selection as mine, you have managed to choose an attire that is hard to surpass in its dreariness."

Sal shrugged indifferently. Haunter had merged with her shadow and Trix followed her, half a step behind. Sal sensed Trix's curiosity and a strange feeling of connection and longing when she spotted the demonic dog from the hospital. He lay asleep in front of the fireplace, his breathing rattling.

"You'll need that."

Sal turned back to Raymond. A shadowy projectile flew in her direction! She instinctively took a step back and threw her hands up. Something round, metallic bounced off her hands, which she held protectively in front of her chest. The object hit the ground with a thud.

"Ow!" Her cry was less of pain and more of surprise. She looked at Raymond in disbelief.

"What do--"

Before she could finish her sentence, Raymond threw her another metal ball. This time she was alert and present-minded enough to recognize the Poké Ball as such and catch it. Sal brought the ball close to her face and examined it intently.

"Hold it against your Zorua and press the button in the middle. Then repeat the same with Haunter. They are designed in such a way that each ball can only be used once to capture a Pokémon."

Did he mean well? Or did he want her to be even more indebted? Was it a ploy to get to Trix? Maybe he wanted to take the ball away from Sal as soon as she used it. Whatever his reasons, Sal didn't understand why a stranger would give her two balls worth a total of 600 Pokédollars just like that.

"Why?"

"If you are an optimist, you may take this as another sign of my inexhaustible goodwill. On the other hand, if you are a cynic - which I think is much more likely - you can look at it as an investment."

Sal didn't understand Raymond's intentions, but she didn't mind. First, she didn’t have much of a choice. Second, a gift was a gift. A glance at Trix told Sal that it was okay. She felt her Pokémon's emotions overriding her own. As if she said trust me.

Without further ado, Sal pushed one of the balls against Trix, who was then caught by a red light and disappeared. Not even a second had passed before Sal pressed the mechanism and freed Trix again.

„Spooky.“

Haunter immediately understood. He emerged from her shadow and went through the same process as Zorua. A rustling sound came from Raymond's corner while Sal marveled at the Poké Balls - her Poké Balls. She turned back to the old man, who motioned for her to come to him. Sal bit her lip. Even though she knew it was childish, she stopped and crossed her arms. Raymond accepted the reaction in stride.

"When you stop playing the stubborn girl, I also have a belt with a ball holder for you."

A blush of embarrassment rose on Sal’s face. Something in her wanted to resist on principle, even if the old man had meant well towards her up until now. It was a stupid feeling, especially since she knew there was nothing she could do to counter him.

"Here, take."

Raymond held out to her a leather belt that could not be surpassed in its simplicity. Six looped fasteners were attached to the brown leather. Sal had seen belts like this before and knew that they often matched the personalities of their owners. Some ornate, others rich in colors and some, like hers, simply functional.

"Try it out."

Sal didn’t have to be told twice. Equipped with Poké Balls and a belt, she almost felt like one of those trainers that competed against each other in the arenas.

"Before you indulge in your daydreams, you should first see how quickly you can free your Pokémon when both are in a ball."

With a reluctant grin, Sal called both Pokémon back into their balls and tucked them into her belt. How practical! The convenience of making her Pokémon disappear at the push of a button was a whole new feeling. Suddenly an invisible force seized her and before she even understood what was happening, Raymond's hand pressed on her shoulder. She wanted to pull away, but couldn't move! As if someone else had taken control of her body. Her face paled as she thought back to Guillaume's thugs - she had witnessed this phenomenon before. It had to be the Psyker!

"Your persistent refusal to consume food in either solid or liquid form may be foolish, but in this case it has the positive side effect of making you less likely to throw up."

Sal’s brow furrowed in question.

Forgive me.

"Let me--"

She felt something tugging at her body without touching her. The world became a swirl of colorful lights that danced before her eyes, mingling with each other and turning into an endless dark. An invisible force pulled her forward. Through a place she could neither see nor comprehend, but she knew it was there. Empty, yet filled. Sal couldn't say how long she was there. Time had no meaning here. Everything around her spun. Or was she the one who did?

Damp earth pressed against her pants as she fell to her knees. A sharp jolt ran through her body. Sal’s organs felt like they were being turned inside out. Her ears were ringing, her vision was blurry, and she felt bile crawling up her thorat before it left her mouth, accompanied by gagging sounds.

It took a moment for her surroundings to become clearer and for her senses to return. The air was cool and had a pleasant freshness, freed from the grime of the city. Sal breathed in deeply. The last rays of sunlight penetrated through the bare trees and tickled her skin

"So many trees," whispered Sal with childlike amazement. Out of nowhere, she found herself in the refreshing cold of a winter forest.

image [https://i.imgur.com/yDdErVk.jpeg]

Raymond and his ocher-colored companion were next to her. Her mood soured as she noticed the old man‘s amused expression. Apparently he had weathered the strange phenomenon much better than she.

"Your already weakened body has just been subjected to an extremely strenuous journey through space. The nausea and dizziness should soon pass. If you still feel a little unsteady on your feet, that's perfectly normal. Don't worry, it will get easier over time. I can still remember my first teleportation and have to admit, I didn't fare any better than you did."

Sal didn't want to pry. She didn't want to listen to the man who caused her to lose home. She didn't want to be grateful to him for rescuing her from the hospital and the gendarmerie. She didn't want to be taken to a foreign area. No matter how much she enjoyed the silence surrounding her; or the fresh air she breathed. All she wanted was to sleep, to lick her wounds, and to mourn Corry.

Nevertheless, a hint of curiosity broke through the crust of negative emotions and betrayed her resolve to give Raymond the cold shoulder. Life was not considerate of the fate of individuals; and the wheel of time kept turning.

At this moment, the old man was her best option. The only one left to her, if she had bad luck. Sal clenched her teeth in annoyance and tensed her jaw. Even though she hadn't spent much time with Raymond, she knew he would stay silent until she voiced the question written all over her face.

"Alright, where are we?"

"You can let them out of their Poké Balls if you want. This far out, we won't meet any people. Then follow me, there is something I would like to show you."