March 23rd, 1973
My wife is, once again, proving herself to be rather troublesome.
There’s only so much I can say to placate her, and none of that matters when her father is around to spur her nationalistic drivel. Kanto pride is meaningless when it kills you, and I foresee many idiotic souls losing their lives for it in the coming days.
It’s times like this that I wonder why I married a Viridian. I can hardly think of a less backward people. At least she isn’t from Kalos; I shudder to think of the depths of their insanity.
It isn’t as if moving to another town is somehow treason against the state. Lavender Town is still in Kanto, just a much nicer part of Kanto. A much quieter part of Kanto.
It doesn’t hurt that next to nothing happens there, or at least anything worth noting. I highly doubt it will be home to much fighting, unlike Viridian.
Can’t she see that?
…
April 29th, 1973
There’s talk of a draft.
It hasn’t yet been legalised, but I don’t expect it to take long for it to become so. The last time it happened was in the 1800’s, which is vaguely horrifying to think about. University always taught to learn from the mistakes of history, yet here we are, gearing up for another meaningless war.
I’ve already made plans to avoid the draft. None of my pokemon are geared towards conflict, and I’m hardly a soldier, either. Thankfully, I look older than my age, so I can realistically say that I’m older than the maximum age for the draft.
Assuming, of course, that they don’t bump up the maximum age itself.
Naturally, my father-in-law wasn’t impressed with my plan, calling me a coward. He’s already signed up for the army, even at the ripe old age of 46.
He’s a fool, and I told him as such. My wife screamed at us to stop, and her father left the house in a rage.
He’s going to die in this war.
For her own part, my wife seems relieved at my choice. Perhaps she wasn’t as deluded as I initially believed?
…
June 14th, 1973
We learned today that my wife is three-months’ pregnant.
It’s a girl.
…
August 4th, 1973
The war has begun.
My father-in-law left today to fight in the northern front. Apparently, Johto has launched a number of attacks on various garrisons along the badlands.
It seems rather pointless to me, but what do I know? Maybe there’s some unseen strategic potential in a patch of barren rock.
I had to console my wife after her father left. I imagine that her pregnancy isn’t helping her with this, what with all the hormones running around.
I gave her some medicine I developed to soothe her nerves, even though she refused. She seems much better now. Hopefully my daughter will be less temperamental than my wife. One is already bad enough.
Maybe growing up in a time of war will strengthen her? That might be the only good thing to come from this conflict.
…
December 1st, 1973
My daughter was born today, two weeks ahead of schedule.
Her birth was an ordeal in and of itself. We ended up needing to perform a c-section to fully remove her from my wife’s womb.
She is a tiny thing, much smaller than the average baby. Her breathing was shallow, too, and I asked the nurse about it. Apparently, she will grow out of it.
I named her Amber Fuji.
My daughter.
…
February 28th, 1974
I was caught today.
I successfully avoided the draft for seven months, but I woke up this morning to find the Chief Quartermaster at my doorstep.
I knew of Giovanni Sakaki before today. Practically everyone in Viridian did. I hadn’t ever met the man, but his reputation painted him as a paragon of Viridian grit, making him one of the most well-known leaders of the Kanto Army.
The man I met today was far different than his public portrayal. He led me to his headquarters on the other end of town, and began to discuss some research projects I worked on over a decade ago.
He’d planned this.
He focussed on my research on stem cells and their medicinal use, and asked a series of questions about their military application.
Naturally, I answered these questions as best I could. I had expected by that point that the draft was unavoidable, and tried to minimise the fallout for my family.
However, Giovanni gave an offer that I never expected. He owned a lab at the edge of town, and offered me to work there to develop the stem cell technology I discarded after my doctorate. He wouldn’t even force me into the military, as long as my research was aimed towards medical use!
I accepted, of course. I would be a fool not to.
Even disregarding my fortune with the draft, I had always dreamed of going back to my university research, and perfecting it. With Giovanni giving me the resources to do so, it was almost too good to be true.
My wife had asked where I was for the day, and she seemed happy once I told her of my fortune.
She did seem somewhat hesitant about the source of my fortune, which was surprisingly canny of her. Giovanni reminded me of a snake more than a man, but such things don’t matter in the grand scheme of things.
I told Amber of the good news, too, even though she can’t understand why it’s good yet. Something in my tone must have been off, as she started to cry when I talked about Giovanni.
I was unprepared to deal with it - Amber had barely ever cried before. I left my wife to handle my daughter, and went off to recover old documents of my research.
…
August 29th, 1974
Amber learned to walk today.
Though, it’s very possible she learned several days ago, and I simply didn’t notice. I’ve been awfully busy these last few months.
What’s remarkable to me is how intelligent my daughter is, especially for her age. She’s only 8 months old, yet she already seems more mature than my wife, being able to listen and follow directions.
Not a very high bar, sure, but still impressive.
Quite frankly, her level of focus is almost unnerving. I don’t know much about children, but I always thought they were supposed to be stupid for most of their youth. But stupid is the last thing I’d call my daughter.
The only area of growth Amber seems to be struggling with is speech, which is surprising. She has hardly spoken a word, and has cried even less.
My wife seems worried about it, apparently thinking it’s some sort of disorder.
I know better, Amber is better than that, she is smarter than that. Her speech will come eventually, and I will be proud for it.
She is my daughter.
She is perfect.
…
January 6th, 1975
Days like these make me wonder whether Giovanni owns all of Viridian.
We had a brief meeting the other day - he was preparing a series of transports throughout the region - and I mentioned, in passing, how nice it would be to have access to the morgue for experimentation.
I arrived to the lab today, only to find a number of recently deceased bodies stacked within one of the freezers. There was a note pasted onto the freezer that simply said ‘You’re welcome’.
Admittedly, today was one of my most productive days in months. I created a human fingernail out of dead matter, which is immensely promising. Up to now, I’d been forced to work with composite elements and the occasional volunteer. Now that I have my own stock of human remains, I expect testing to yield more consistent results.
I shared this fortune with my wife, though she hardly seemed pleased by it. Apparently the idea of experimenting upon human remains struck her as ‘barbaric’.
As if! Many of the modern medical practices were developed using such remains. We, as a species, had to learn our skeletal structure somehow!
At least Amber seemed interested in it, when I told her. She didn’t say anything, of course, but her mind was there. I could see it in her eyes. She understood what I was doing more than my own wife!
Amber truly has a bright future ahead of her. Why, at the rate she’s going, she’ll become a doctor before age twenty!
…
September 18th, 1975
Amber said her first words today.
My wife has yet to understand how much of a blessing this is, since she’s apparently made it her mission to avoid me.
Kanto was invaded today, with Cerulean City being taken over. We’ve only received a little bit of information thus far, but it seems as though few of the soldiers stationed there escaped with their lives.
My wife’s father was stationed there.
Of course, such a thing caused her to tears. I tried to tell her that the man knew what he signed up for, but that only seemed to turn her sadness into anger.
She is an emotional creature, hardly capable of following logic at times like this. I truly wonder why I married her.
We had devolved to screaming at each other - something we both agreed not to do with Amber in the house. It didn’t matter, though. She was driven by emotion, and I will admit that her misplaced anger spurred my own.
We broke apart after that, with my wife locking herself in our room. I hardly sleep there anymore, so it’s not as if its loss matters that much to me.
It was then that Amber said her first words, having snuck up on me as I sat back down. She patted my leg, and said in the smallest whisper, “It’s going to be okay.”
She didn’t say any more than that, even with my prompting. It seemed as though she said her piece, and no more.
Yet, I’m not disappointed in my Amber. I couldn’t be more proud. Her first words set in a fully-formed sentence, and meant to console me as well.
She truly is a compassionate child, which is a miracle in and of itself.
I suppose it fits, though.
My miracle child.
…
October 2nd, 1975
Viridian has been under siege for almost a month now, and has held far better than I gave it credit for.
Much of the east coast has been taken by the Johto-Sinnoh Coalition, with Fuchsia City being the main exception. Ironically, Lavender Town was overrun almost immediately, apparently due to its strategic naval uses for Sinnoh.
To think I had wanted to move there to avoid the war.
With the siege underway, my experimental technology has found its use in the frontlines. Many of the wounded have underwent stem cell therapy to heal their wounds, which has given me far more data than I could have ever dreamed.
It seems as though my name has become well-known throughout Viridian as well, as several of those who received my treatment have called me a miracle worker, repairing broken bones and burnt skin back to health in record time.
There were even talks of making the treatment the standard for the entire army, but Giovanni shut that down, citing its experimental nature as a reason for caution.
I was almost insulted, but I believe I know his real reason. Giovanni strikes me as a man who holds his cards close to his chest. Any advantage he has will remain his alone, at least until he has no choice but to share.
If I was more of a philanthropic sort, I would oppose this, but I don’t truly care about saving lives.
I’ve healed bones and skin, yes, but I can do more than that. What use is healing broken bones when an arm is torn off? What use is healing skin when the blood is boiled?
I can do more than what I have now, I’m sure of it. The people call me a miracle worker, but they have yet to see the end of my genius.
…
March 23rd, 1976
My wife and I had another fight today.
She keeps on insisting that Amber be placed in elementary school, citing a need for ‘social growth’ or other such drivel.
I’ve read through the curriculum that they teach! There’s hardly anything of worth for the first several years, and the little there is centres around pokemon!
Amber is better than that! She deserves better than that! I could teach my daughter more in a day than those lousy excuses for teachers could in a year.
And, Mew, don’t even get me started on the other children.
I’ve seen them, bumbling around with snot dripping down their noses… Honest to God, it makes me ever more thankful for how much of an angel Amber is.
For her own part, my daughter just seemed to… stare - for lack of a better word - while we were shouting.
She has yet to say any more than a few sentences at a time, but I’ve learned to accept it.
If nothing else, she seemed to take my side of things. When I asked her for her thoughts, she just scrunched her face in confusion.
It gave me good chuckle, actually. It’s rare to find someone of similar mind as me. I’m lucky my daughter is one such person.
…
July 27th, 1976
I performed a miracle today.
There was a man wheeled into the emergency room, apparently fresh off the front at the Plateau. He was truly a ghastly sight, with his left arm being mangled into something unrecognisable, with only the smallest sliver of skin keeping it attached to his torso.
According to the man’s comrades, he had been hit with a Stone Edge by some Tyranitar that was rampaging about. The man was lucky to be alive, with one of the field-medics’ Blissey keeping the patient stable.
They were preparing for an amputation - one that, admittedly, was mostly done for them already - but I called it off.
After all, I had just developed the perfect cure.
It was a delicate procedure, far more than I was used to. But the people of Viridian had come to trust me. Or rather, they had come to trust Giovanni, who publicly gave his trust to me.
The stem cells took affect, holding a mixture of human and pokemon DNA that I had only recently begun development of, and found very promising. After all, pokemon are resilient creatures, and most show some level of healing that is greater than any human can achieve on their own.
After several hours, the arm began to knit itself back into place, requiring a sling to keep it in place as it did so.
The bones, too, began to regrow, though it would require surgery for them to be replaced in their proper state.
The people all looked at me in awe as I single-handedly restored someone’s arm to health, as if I was some god amongst man.
Yet I find myself blinded by the possibility of it all.
Why should this be my magnum opus?
If I can restore an arm, who is to say that I cannot restore other things? A lung, a heart, a brain…
A body, restored back to life.
It is a fantastical thing, yes, but so are pokemon, and there are none alive who would claim they do not exist.
So why not?
Why shouldn’t I be the man to invent resurrection?
…
November 30th, 1976
Amber had a nasty fall today.
I felt my heart nearly fail when it happened. One moment, Amber was smiling at the top of the stairs, the next, she was at the bottom, whimpering in pain.
She didn’t even cry out, but I could see her tears.
Oh, and there was blood, too. A worrying amount.
My wife started screaming by that point, proving herself to be woefully unhelpful. I had to drag her into the next room before going into my office.
Amber was still lucid, but in pain. Admittedly, I don’t believe her fall was fatal, or even dangerous to her development. I later saw that the blood was from a broken nose, and nothing more.
That didn’t matter in the moment, though. I will admit to panicking, foolish as it is, but rather than scream I set out to heal my daughter.
We were lucky that I’ve performed some of my research at home. It wasn’t long before I acquired the stem cells needed for Amber, the same used for my ‘miracles’ with the soldiers.
Amber fell asleep after the injection, her bruises fading away almost instantly.
I knew it would work, but seeing it was no less relieving.
I had to take the time to show this to my wife, but it seemed that she was determined to stay panicked, harping on me about ‘using experimental drugs on my daughter’.
Honestly, the nerve of the woman.
There is no-one I trust with my daughter’s health more than myself.
…
January 19th, 1977
Viridian has finally pushed the invaders back.
Kanto has regained the upperhand in this conflict, with Lavender Town and Pewter City being retaken from Johto-Sinnoh forces.
Out of all of the major towns, Viridian remained one of the two to never be taken, which… admittedly, I never expected. The people of this town were much more resilient than I gave them credit for.
Good for them.
Of course, much of Viridian’s recent success can be attributed to yours truly. Easily hundreds of soldiers who would’ve died, or been forced to retire, were brought back to the front with my technology.
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Giovanni himself seems to agree with me, given the amount of praise he’s given me, not to mention the increase in pay.
I brought up the idea of moving to a nicer house, away from all the rabble, but, as usual, my darling wife disagreed. This time, she claims to argue for Amber’s benefit, worrying about how isolated she would be if we moved, especially given that she’s “already isolated enough.”
I don’t understand her point, and I’ve stopped trying to. Amber has her mother as company, as ‘pleasant’ as it is, and I’ve managed to come home much more often than before.
What more does Amber need?
…
June 28th, 1977
Today the war has officially ended.
I say ‘officially’, because after the Battle of Rage, there was barely any fighting to speak of, outside of Orre and Kalos doing their usual idiocy.
I suppose I should be happy for this. At least Amber will grow up in a time of peace. Yet, over the last few months, I found that I almost missed when the war was at our doorstep.
Back then, there was a constant flow of wounded to experiment on. Now, all I’m left with are volunteers, which are few in number.
One would think people would be more enthusiastic about helping their local ‘miracle worker’ do his thing, but I guess not.
Still, development is going well enough.
I made a hand the other day, unattached to any living organism. It’s encased in amniotic fluid to keep it from decomposing - a defect I’m working to correct - but its nerves are fully functional. Despite not being alive, it can still feel things.
Pain.
Pleasure.
It makes one wonder how much of the living experience is truly tied to being alive in the first place.
…
March 6th, 1978
There’s been some discourse over the ‘Great Burning of Orre’.
It’s been almost a week since it happened, and the public hardly knows any more about it than when it first occurred. I’ve heard a number of theories on the subject, each more nonsensical than the last.
Some say it was an act of divine retribution. For what, they cannot say. For all that Orre has been a thorn in our side, there’s been no indication of them pissing off any of the local legends.
Others claim that it was some sort of experimental weapons test, likely from Cipher. None of them ask why they would be attacking their own country, and there’s yet to be any manmade weapons of such destructive potential, even of the nuclear variety.
Quite frankly, it’s obvious that the burning was the work of a rogue agent, someone with a grudge against Cipher, perhaps? Whatever the case, it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving people. Why, if I ever meet the man, I would shake his hand.
The only thing that could top this would be if Kalos burned as well. That wouldn’t just make my year, it would make my decade.
Amber heard about the event on the television that my wife purchased a month ago. Normally, I would have admonished her for listening to such drivel, but this is one of the rare instances where I let it slide.
Amber has to grow to see the world for what it is. I see no reason to prolong it any more than is needed.
Of course, Amber didn’t find the story as happy as she should have. She was very nearly close to tears for the first time in years.
I sat her down to explain why it was a good thing. People die all the time, so it’s best for the bad people to die first.
She didn’t seem to understand, but that’s all right.
I have years to teach her.
…
April 27th, 1978
There was a flaw in my treatment.
I still don’t know what’s caused it - and I have half a mind to say I did everything perfectly - but one of my subjects suddenly passed away three days ago.
I paid no mind to it, at first, but Giovanni left a note at the lab showing the corpse’s medical file.
The man had a tumour the size of a baseball, lodged in his shoulder. The very same shoulder that my technology reattached almost two years ago.
At first, I dismissed the idea that it was due to my miracle. Perhaps the tumour was already there upon reattachment, in which case it would still be an unfortunate happenstance, but not my fault.
I’ve seen otherwise. Giovanni met me today to share the medical files of other subjects. All those who had passed showed similar cancerous growths, and those still living have been falling ill, one after the other.
Giovanni made it clear that this was unacceptable, and that there will be consequences. He’d kept the first man’s family from learning the truth, but he made it clear that he couldn’t do the same if it happened repeatedly.
Things could get… very ugly, if people connect these tumours to me.
Of course, that assumes that they’re intelligent enough to connect the dots, which is a stretch in and of itself.
I’m not terribly worried about it, but I will keep it in mind.
Public perception is a fickle mistress, and I’d be remiss not to direct it.
For Amber’s sake.
…
June 2nd, 1978
There’s rumour of a criminal organisation sprouting in parts of Kanto.
The papers call it Team Rocket.
Apparently, with the number of deaths in the Great War, as they’re now calling it, an unprecedented percentage of the current generation have been left as orphans.
Experts say this has led to an increase in crimes committed by juveniles, either out of lack of parental supervision, or out of desperation.
For my own part, this is just another reason why Amber shouldn’t be forced to mingle with other children. She is their superior in every way, and I will not have her dragged down to their level.
Besides, Amber’s had another silent spell in the last couple of months, and I hardly see the outside world being kind to her for it. Subjecting her to their abuse wouldn’t just be stupid, it would be cruel.
Amber agrees with me. She always does.
…
August 3rd, 1978
Amber has been diagnosed with brain cancer.
The doctors say it’s terminal.
…
August 7th, 1978
Amber has been moved to the hospital. She hasn’t woken up in over a day.
They’ve hooked her up to life support, but they say it won’t matter.
They expect her die within three months.
I refuse to believe it.
I’ve saved men from the edge of death, reattached limbs, and grown fingers.
I can develop human skin out of paper, with working nerves and blood cells.
Amber will not die from this.
I refuse.
…
September 1st, 1978
I’m making progress.
I’m sure of it.
I’ve placed several cancerous bodies into stasis back at the lab. I’ve found ways to minimise the growths of the tumours, but I have yet to completely remove them.
But I’m close.
My wife doesn’t understand why I’m doing this. To her, Amber is already dead.
She has no vision. She’s rather keel over and accept death rather than save our daughter.
She is a coward.
I know I can save my Amber. I will save her.
I will save her.
…
September 24th, 1978
Giovanni informed me that an investigation has begun on the relation of the tumours to my stem cell technology.
I don’t care about that anymore.
All that matters is my daughter’s survival.
…
October 3rd, 1978
I’m nearing a breakthrough, I’m sure of it.
Amber will be cured within the week.
…
October 7th, 1978
None of the tests have panned out, but many have come close.
There has to be some way to do this!
There has to be.
I will not accept any other answer.
…
October 9th, 1978
WHY?
Why does it have to be Amber?
Why does it have to be my daughter?
Why couldn’t it be any of the other idiot children running around?
Childhood cancer is such a rarity why did it have to happen to me?
What did I do to deserve this?
…
October 16th, 1978
Someone broke into the lab and vandalised it
How DARE they?
I am saving my daughter and they are ruining it!
They will regret it
…
October 23rd, 1978
it isnt going to work ive tried everything shes going to die because of me how could she do this to me how could i do this to her why couldnt i save her
…
October 31st, 1978
Amber was taken off of life-support.
She passed away in her sleep.
I couldn’t save her.
…
November 3rd, 1978
I buried Amber in the backyard.
My wife wanted her buried in the Viridian Cemetery, but I overruled her.
It was a private affair. Only my wife and I were there. She hardly had any friends at this point, and I was never of the social sort.
Yet, somehow, Giovanni knew of Amber’s passing anyway, if his written condolences were any consideration.
I burned the note when I found it.
I’m done working for him.
I have nothing left to live for.
I’d do anything to bring her back.
…
February 2nd, 1979
My wife caught me experimenting in the basement.
I’ve been kicked out from the lab. Apparently, Giovanni saw me as a liability, what with the public after my head and all.
She yelled at me for some time, and I just let her.
Her words mean nothing to me.
Apparently, she found herself displeased with this, as she thought it wise to blame me for Amber’s death.
Oh, she was hysterical about it, but she succeeded in stoking my rage.
She claims that I killed her with my treatment all those years ago, after Amber had fallen down the stairs.
And I.
There was screaming.
I don’t want to talk about it.
But the fucking nerve of the woman! To say that I killed my own daughter!
If I were to kill anyone, my daughter would be the very last person I would go for!
I would kill myself before harming my daughter!
She doesn’t believe any of my work was worthwhile. She believes that curing Amber was all for naught.
She believes that my daughter will remain dead.
I’ll prove her wrong! I’ll-
I’ll prove them all wrong.
…
May 29th, 1979
I just got back from the hospital.
Well, I suppose it’s more accurate to say I was kicked out. Not that it was deserved.
I just had to say one last thing to my wife before leaving. She would’ve done well to hear it.
It’s regrettable that she got herself hurt in our argument, but I can hardly say it wasn’t her fault.
She was asking for it.
You know, for a mother, she can hardly stand the sight of her own child. It makes one wonder.
I dug Amber out of the backyard. She’s currently in the freezer.
I scraped a small amount of bone from her body for the DNA. A few hours later, I held an arm in my hand.
Amber’s arm, exactly the same as it was in life.
Minus the fact that it was synthesised.
Of course, the arm began to decay, what with the lack of a beating heart to sustain it.
But it showed me an avenue that I have never before considered.
Cloning.
…
July 13th, 1979
We had a divorce.
My ex-wife apparently felt ‘unsafe’ at home, which is ludicrous to consider. But, of course, the judge was a ludicrous man, and listened to her.
She kept the house, and most of the money. I left shortly afterward.
I have no real use for the house anymore. It was only restricting my work.
I’m planning on leaving town soon. It’s become a hassle to afford motel rooms when their owners hate my guts.
At the very least, I can call myself lucky that Amber was a small girl, making her easy to fit inside of a portable freezer.
That’s the most important thing now.
I’m too deep in this to stop now.
…
December 29th, 1979
It’s something of a unique experience to live in Johto.
They were recently combined with Kanto into the ‘Indigo Region’ - which is quite the silly name, in my opinion - yet there remains a sense of separation between the two peoples.
It wasn’t so long ago that we were at war, after all.
But they’ve been pleasant enough, and the Indigo merger is useful for travel, if nothing else. It made it much easier to cross the border.
And, of course, no-one here knows who I am, which is a much-needed breath of fresh air after Viridian.
I’ve stayed in Goldenrod for nearly a month now, and have acquired a few part-time jobs to keep me afloat.
For the biggest city in Johto, there seems to be remarkably small demand for someone of my talents, with most of the local economy focused on industry and entertainment.
I fail to see the need for them, especially the latter, but I have other things to worry about.
The freezer slows Amber’s decomposition, yes, but it doesn’t stop it. I need to find a way to halt it entirely.
And quickly.
…
February 18th, 1980
It seems as though my reputation precedes me.
I was approached by a group of men during my travels, who ushered me to the local bar.
I had a taser on me - a recent purchase, since crime rates are higher in large cities - but I had no need for it. The men made no move to hurt me, instead asking me if I was ‘Viridian’s Doctor.’
It took me a moment to understand that this was a title I gained among certain circles of the Johto military. Apparently, word came out that my technology played a part in why Viridian held on for so long, and I gained a small level of infamy to those who laid siege.
I was momentarily worried that these men intended to enact some sort of revenge on me - I hardly believe I could have fended them all off - but I was pleasantly surprised when they gave a hearty laugh.
They actually seemed pleased to meet me? It appears as though they only knew of the short-term affects of my technology, and nothing of the subsequent tumours.
I wouldn’t be the one to tell them.
They offered me a job, a very well-paying job as the head-researcher at one of the few labs on the north end of town.
It’s a closed contract deal, since they wanted my ‘miracles’ solely for themselves. Apparently, Team Storm is the dominant power in the Goldenrod underworld, and they wanted to use my technology to secure their place.
Naturally, I accepted. While some may oppose working for a criminal organisation on principle, I’ve never claimed to be of the moral sort.
It’s a weakness of the mind.
Besides, their offer was better than anything else I could reasonably find, so I would be a fool not to take it.
And I am no fool.
…
May 21st, 1981
I finished the development of a human brain today.
It was fully conscious, capable of both thought and emotion, though it was limited.
It had no memory, no experiences to draw upon, so it was no smarter than a newborn.
Still, this is a massive step in my research. I have synthesised nearly every part of a human body.
The limbs.
The torso.
The head.
The eyes.
The lungs.
The heart.
And now, the brain.
All that remains is to piece it all together.
And, I suppose, to make sure it doesn’t decompose.
I have yet to develop a single cloned entity that has not developed tumours, but I have a theory on how to correct this error.
They say that Mew is the ancestor to all pokemon.
But what about humans?
They say that Mew had healing properties like the world had never seen.
Why, then, couldn’t it be applied to my cloning?
It just makes sense.
It just makes sense.
…
April 2nd, 1982
I created a fully formed foetus from Amber’s DNA.
It passed away in under an hour, but it did live, if only for a moment.
It’s possible.
It’s always been possible.
…
November 19th, 1982
I’ve scoured the public library for texts of Mew and resurrection.
There are precious few.
Unfortunately, since many of them are ancient legends, they can hardly be looked at as solid evidence of either’s existence.
But then, there’s never been mention of people regrowing limbs. And I perfected that years ago.
I have come to wonder if there is something that I have missed in my research. I can craft a body, but it doesn’t know how to function, how to keep itself alive.
The heart will beat, but it will do so erratically, with no rhythm.
The lungs will breath, but it do so in shallow breaths, and suffocate over time.
The brain will think, but it will not command the body properly.
These organs fail when any one of them is off. They all need to be perfect.
Perhaps they need a helping hand…
I believe it is time for me to begin work on Amber’s brain.
And bring it back to life.
…
March 12th, 1983
I received an electronic mail today from someone calling himself ‘The Emperor.’
I was bemused, to say the least. The name struck me as rather pretentious, and the man’s writing hardly dissuaded me of that notion.
He apparently learned of my research, and found out where I lived. He thought himself to be something of an ‘intellectual equal’ to share ideas with.
I’ll admit, I was interested for a moment, but as I read further, it became clear that this man doesn’t actually know what he was talking about.
He brought up my connections to Team Storm, and while I’m grudgingly impressed that he found it out, his following threat of blackmail was more amusing than it intimidating.
It’s clear by his writing that he’s rather green to the business. While I’m no mobster, I’ve had enough dealings with the underground to know when someone is of new blood.
Besides, the man struck me as an idealist, and those type of people tend to get blinded by their goals. I’d like to think that I’m above such things.
I declined the man’s offer to share our research. A part of me wonders if it was a scam, honestly.
Infinite energy, hah!
Such a thing is ludicrous.
…
May 2nd, 1983
Guyana.
That is where Mew’s remains are said to rest.
It will end at Guyana.
I can feel it.
…
December 27th, 1983
This last month has been rather hectic.
Team Storm was taken over by Team Rocket, solidifying the latter’s control over the Johto underworld.
It happened rather suddenly, and I suppose some of that can be attributed to me.
This is around the time that the tumours would appear, for the mobsters I’ve healed.
I was prepared to move once more, but Team Rocket approached me before I got the chance. The group was led by a red-haired woman that I vaguely remembered from Viridian.
I’m not terribly surprised that someone from that backwards town ended up in a criminal organisation.
Our meeting ended up going much better than I expected, with me being allowed to continue my research, with the caveat that I don’t use any of their grunts for experimentation.
It seemed as though they knew about the other side of my ‘miracles’.
The lady promised further communication from her boss in the coming months, before disappearing into the wind.
I’m not particularly happy with the thought - I’m content with staying alone with Amber, thank you - but it’s better than the alternative. I can hardly say that this was the worst thing that could have happened.
Besides, the most recent clone of Amber’s brain managed consciousness before passing away.
…
March 3rd, 1984
I did not expect to know the leader of Team Rocket.
Giovanni never struck me as the type to cavort with criminals - it seemed beneath him, really - but there he was, seated right where I was directed to when meeting with the organisation’s leader.
It almost makes a cosmic sort of sense, now that I think about it. Giovanni was always a control-freak.
But that doesn’t matter, what does is the opportunity he presented me.
He’d learned of my cloning experiment.
How, I can hardly say. And I can hardly bring myself to care.
Giovanni is willing - no - he is eager to finance it.
Apparently, he’s interested in the prospect of making a biological weapon out of it. Mew only knows for what reason, but I didn’t care to ask it.
I told him of my plans, of Mew, of Guyana, of Amber coming back to life.
Giovanni nodded along. I don’t think he understood it - he’d never been the academic sort - but he seemed to understand my need.
He offered to finance an expedition to the Uncharted Territory, along with providing research personnel.
I accepted the offer, of course.
I would be a fool to decline.
His only stipulation was to use my research to develop a new pokemon, specifically geared towards warfare.
That’s fine. It has to be fine. It’s the only thing keeping me from reuniting with my daughter.
Any experiment needs its control, after all.
It’s only logical.
…
July 5th, 1984
The expedition crew arrived on Guyana just over a week ago.
We’ve set up camp along the coast. I already have the beginnings of a lab set up in the main tent, and am waiting on the first shipment from Giovanni before constructing a more permanent building.
I intend to be here for as long as necessary.
My subordinates have established a perimeter between our camp and the wilderness. This far out from civilisation, the pokemon are savage.
Some of the researchers seemed more interested in catching some of the local pokemon more than what was actually important. They were quick to correct this when I reminded them that they were on Giovanni’s payroll.
One group of researchers did manage to recover some sort of ancient tapestry depicting Mew.
It’s been torn, but it still holds together. Quite frankly, I’m amazed that it hasn’t eroded from the elements.
The weather isn’t very kind on this end of the hemisphere.
Whatever the case, the last week has been more productive than the last year.
I just know Amber’s time is coming soon.
It has to be.
…
July 10th, 1984
We discovered traces of Mew’s DNA.
Cells. Fully formed cells, unique to everything I’ve ever seen before.
We recovered eight of them; I would have been satisfied with one.
Finally.
Finally, I can bring her back.
…
October 27th, 1984
There seems to be something I am missing.
We successfully cloned a pokemon - Bulbasaur - in a stable body. No tumours to be found, and no decomposition.
It appeared to be a resounding success, if not for one, small defect.
The creature was deaf.
And it shouldn’t be! The host specimen is perfectly healthy, responding to commands, both verbal and not!
Why, then, is its clone defunct? What went wrong with the procedure?
I’ve agonised over it for months now! Perfecting every calculation, every measurement to produce the perfect copy.
It has the exact same brain - the exact same soul - for crying out loud!
I’m not going to accept this half-measure! I’m not going to create a new daughter, just for her to be retarded!
What am I missing?
…
December 1st, 1984
We’re down to 6 Mew cells, now, and two defective clones.
The second specimen is somehow entirely different yet exactly the same as that infernal Bulbasaur. This time, instead of being deaf, it’s blind!
What did I do to deserve this?
I’ve placed both specimens into stasis. Even ignoring their defects, they have difficulty breathing outside of their amniotic fluid.
For some unfathomable reason, none of my subordinates seem to view this as the tragedy that it is. They’re too busy congratulating themselves for their ‘accomplishment’.
As if they could do any of this without my direction!
I’ve been slaving over this dream for years. It is my accomplishment, and no-one else’s!
It is my accomplishment alone.
…
January 3rd, 1985
I’ve finally made headway with the cloning, as the most recent specimen is neither blind or deaf.
This isn’t to say my method has been perfected. For some unknowable reason, the Squirtle seems unable to speak, which shouldn’t be the case. There’s nothing physical preventing it from doing so.
I checked, it has a tongue.
It can’t be a mental disorder; the host Squirtle is far too loud for that to be the case. Their brains are exactly the same, barring inconsequential differences.
So what’s the problem?
Perhaps the Mew DNA is contaminated? I surely hope not, since it was hassle enough to acquire what little we have.
Maybe I need to alter the ratio of Mew DNA? It’s something to consider.
Though, what’s to say that something like this will happen with a human clone? Human DNA is vastly different to pokemon DNA, after all.
It’s worth testing, at least.
And it’s not as if I have anything to lose…
And why not? Why shouldn’t the next subject be Amber?
If it succeeds, I’ll have my daughter back.
If it doesn’t, well…
I suppose I can tolerate a mute daughter.
It’d hardly be different from the real thing, really.
…
February 6th, 1985
We’ve had our first success.
And it is an overwhelming victory.
Our fifth iteration of testing, utilising only Mew and Human DNA in a 5:1 ratio. It was meant to be the last of non-human testing.
And what a beauty I made.
The specimen is little more than a newborn at this point, coming into conscious mere hours before writing this.
The sensors in the lab spiked upon its awakening, indicating levels of psychic potential that I could hardly dream of.
And there’s every indication that its power will grow with time.
Amber’s unformed clone remains beside it, slowly coming into being.
Perhaps… Perhaps I have fully done it.
Perhaps today I gaze upon not one success, but two.
Two.
I’ve hardly thought about it, but these clones, they’re not the same as the hosts, are they?
They’re different beings. Different souls.
Or, maybe the same souls?
I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care.
I have gifted life to new beings, saving them from assured death.
I look forward to meeting them.
Mewtwo and Ambertwo.
…
February 9th, 1985
Ambertwo has gained consciousness.
She has yet to wake up.
…
March 1st, 1985
Whoever governs the world must be a cruel god.
But I refuse to accept this as the end.
I couldn’t cure Amber of her illness all those years ago.
But this time, I will save Ambertwo from the same fate.
I have nothing else to lose.
…
April 7th, 1985
I’m sorry.
I couldn’t save you.
…
Abandoned Remains of Dr. Fuji’s Private Lab, Uncharted Territory, Guyana Archipelago, March 12th, 1998
Red closed the journal, having reached its end after hours of reading aloud.
Salvare sat to his right, remaining attentive even hours past midnight. His eyes were clouded in a way that they hadn’t been since December, likely because of his father’s involvement in the events detailed in the journal.
Red turned to his left, and held the journal to the air, “There’s no more after that.”
A deep voice hummed in responde, and a purple hand plucked the journal out of Red’s grasp. “So it seems,” Mewtwo held the journal in his hands, before lifting the journal into the air, “I have heard enough.”
With a flick of the wrist, the journal burst into flame, and tumbled into ash. Red watched the scattered embers die into the wind, and asked in a murmur, “Did it bring you closure?”
Mewtwo rumbled, crossing his arms as he stared at the moon above, “...Closure? No.” He closed his eyes, and let out a melodic sigh, before turning back to the ocean behind them, calming in its own terrible beauty, “But peace? Perhaps…”
Red hummed, softly petting Vee as she snuggled in his lap, “You’re ready to move on?”
Mewtwo watched as a shooting star streaked the night sky, and exhaled, “Yes.”
Red nodded, gently prodding Vee to wake up, “Where will you go?”
“I don’t know… but I will find out soon.” Mewtwo turned to Red, tilting his head, “What about you?”
Red pursed his lips, making eye contact with Salvare - who now knew of Red’s goal - before sighing, “...I don’t know.”
Mewtwo hummed knowingly, “You are directionless, like myself.” He turned once more to face the ocean, and the storm approaching from the horizon, “Perhaps you, too, should be searching for closure.”
Red couldn’t help bitter laugh that erupted from his throat, “No need. I know how my story ends.”
Mewtwo turned, locking amber eyes with those of crimson, “Have you made peace with it?”
Red grit his teeth, becoming silent in the face of Mewtwo’s question.
His silence was answer in itself.
Mewtwo stood, prompting Red and Salvare to stand with him, “I hope you find it for yourself.” Mewtwo extended a hand, “You have my gratitude, and aid, should you ever need it.”
Red grabbed Mewtwo’s hand alongside Salvare, lifting Vee onto his shoulder with his other hand, “Thank you.”
Mewtwo huffed, apparently finding some level of humour in Red’s words, “Don’t thank me, Satoshi. I am simply paying you back.”
And in shades of brilliant azure and blazing crimson, a flash pierced the sky, and upon the coast of Guyana remained nothing but footprints in the mud.