Chapter 78 - Cinnabar Labs I: Of Blobs and Babs

The way Powder not cared about things was kind of funny. The Vulpix had barely sniffed her Pokéblock before turning her nose up, only mildly interested and in a very pompous way. That left an opening for Aria, who immediately swooped in, swiping the treat like it was her prey. Celeste rolled her eyes—Aria’s state of apathy and fun was pretending she was a hunter. Celeste did try to tell her she got more than enough from the convenience store, but her Eevee couldn’t care less.

Celeste absently stirred her instant noodles, her eyes scanning the room for Pat.

The Slowpoke dangled a Pecha Berry from his tail, teasing Powder with it like a piñata. That caught her attention. The little Vulpix squealed in delight, batting at it with an Ice Shard. Celeste smiled. At least someone was having fun.

She stirred her noodles again, but her focus drifted to her shadow stretched across the old newspaper on the table. Shy just lingered there, motionless, pretending they were her actual shadow. They still weren’t comfortable around her other Pokémon. Even though Powder and Aria paid them no mind, Shy hid the moment she let them out.

It was a shame, really. Celeste finally wanted to talk about what happened—now that she calmed down, she needed to, or else rummaging through those thoughts would eat her alive.

The lights. The creatures… She had never got such a good look at them before. What even were they? And the tram? It had been there, and then… gone. How could she even process that? This was crazier still than the time she’d gone into freaking Articuno’s dream.

And then there was the fake Nurse Joy. Celeste could bet she was as gone as the tram.

She should’ve gathered her Pokémon right then and figured things out. Instead, she’d wandered the lobby of Cinnabar Labs in a daze, muttering half-formed sentences to herself, until she stumbled into this common area with a kitchen. Finding a kettle was what she’d latched onto, yelling something about making noodles before releasing the rest of her team to feed them too. Now, her mind had quieted down, but the dread lingered, so she wanted to talk it out.

“Maybe it’s fine?” she murmured, stirring the noodles that had long gone soggy. “With Nurse Joy gone, there’s only two left, right? Unless they can make more… Why didn’t they make more, Shy?”

Her shadow remained still, unresponsive. Celeste cast a glance toward Pat. He was still entertaining Powder, so no help there either.

So much for talking things out…

She poked at the noodles, watching chunks of dehydrated veggies float in the greyish broth. She wasn’t even hungry, not really. Just… blergh. Her gaze drifted to the newspaper there, still lying open where someone had left it days ago. With no one to talk to, she reached for it, flipping to the front page.

The headline showed a man with a crate—likely a scientist. There was something familiar about him. The ridiculous tie, printed with cartoony Shiinotic and Scorbunny, clashed with his lab coat. And that goatee?

“Mid-life crisis…” Celeste muttered, smirking. The thought stirred a memory.

She’d seen this exact picture. About three weeks ago, when they docked at Two Island. Mia had been flipping through a paper just like this. Back then, Celeste hadn’t cared to read it. She hadn’t paid attention then, but now…

Discovery in Tanoby, the headline screamed. This was definitely the same article Mia had been so interested in. Also, three weeks ago… that lined up with Ariana’s timeline for when the island got taken over.

And that brought her back to the biggest question she had these past few days. What happened three weeks ago?

It wasn’t just about how the psychic creatures got in. What Celeste kept getting back to was the people. Where were they when it all went down? Had anyone fought back? Or did it happen all at once?

As Celeste and her Pokémon moved from place to place, there hadn’t been any signs of a struggle. No shattered glass, nothing broken, nothing. Cinnabar was pristine, even where the creatures didn’t look. It was just like people had just got up and left whatever they were doing—computers still on, coffee cups half-full, work left hanging. It was creepy. She knew there were those who escaped, too. The people close to a Dark, Bug or a Ghost-type. But except for that brief encounter with Ariana, there was no sign of them anywhere.

She stirred the noodles again, almost mechanically. Her curiosity was almost as big as her fear. Maybe that’s something she and Shy had in common. They both seemed drawn to this mystery in one way or another.

“I don’t know if you can see this, but I’ll read it out loud,” she said, placing the paper over her shadow. “This article’s from around the time the creatures took over… I think. Discovery at Tanoby.” She cleared her throat. “Dr. Ren Fuji, head of Cinnabar Labs, has returned from an excavation at the Tanoby Ruins, located in one of the most remote parts of the Sevii Archipelago. Details of the discovery remain undisclosed.”

She paused. Her shadow shifted slightly—at least they were paying attention.

“Gym Leader Blaine was on hand to greet Dr Fuji, but when questioned about the findings, both refused to provide specifics. Dr Fuji addressed reporters briefly, stating, ‘There’s still much work to be done before we can share anything publicly. For now, I’m just happy I’ll be reading my daughter a bedtime story tonight.’ Leader Blaine added, ‘We look forward to seeing what Cinnabar Labs uncovers next.’”

Celeste trailed off. The rest was just fluff about the lab’s success and whatever. Nothing useful, nothing about the island’s takeover. Certainly nothing about Leader Blaine’s whereabouts. She half suspected he might be immune to whatever had taken over—like Ariana. She’d even knocked on the Gym doors earlier today, but all she got was a blinking security camera on her face and absolutely nothing else.

“Figures,” she muttered, refocusing on Shy. “It’d be too easy if all the answers were just lying around in the news, huh?”

Silence.

The sun outside had sunk lower, and through the lab’s windows, long shadows as the blues turned paler. Darkness would fall soon, and they couldn’t afford to stay in this room—it was too exposed. And since they’d learned the hard way that lighting up an abandoned building was like shouting their location to their pursuers, they’d better move soon.

“Come on, Pat,” she called softly, recalling Powder and Aria with a flash of their Pokéballs. “Let’s check out the rest of this place while there’s still some light left.”

In the end, Celeste never finished the noodles.

—*——*—

Shy slipped ahead, their silhouette flickering as they moved down the wide corridor. Celeste could barely track them, only catching glimpses as their form crossed patches of light spilling through half-opened doors. Aside from them, the corridor was quiet otherwise.

“You both okay?” Celeste asked, pushing one of the doors open. The hinges creaked louder than she’d expected. Pat was slow to respond, muttering a low “Po,” while Shy gave a brief, hesitant nod from up ahead.

“Sorry we didn’t rest longer…” she added, stepping into the room. “But daylight’s running out.”

The space they entered looked like an office—nothing special. A desk sat under a messy pile of papers, cabinets lined the walls, and it was obvious whoever had been here had just left. The computer still hummed softly, its screen casting a pale glow. A bottle lay knocked over on the desk, some water still sloshing inside, and a phone dangled off the hook, like someone had left mid-conversation and couldn’t even be bothered to put it back in place.

This wasn’t the first phone they’d found, but Celeste still picked it up, pressing it to her ear.

Nothing. Not even static.

She sighed, putting it down gently before glancing at her Pokémon. “Do you guys… want to talk about what happened? Earlier?”

No response.

Boundaries… She half reminded herself to be patient. She’d needed time to process everything—they deserved that too, right? Whatever had happened with the tram was terrifying. If those creatures could make an entire tram vanish, what could they do to them? Still… patience didn’t come naturally to her. She was trying—learning to be more mindful—but it was an uphill battle, and not one she always won. If she had, maybe she would’ve noticed Shy’s flickering form, or the way Pat refused to meet her eyes.

“Nurse Joy is gone,” Celeste pressed, stepping back out into the hallway and opening the next door. This one faced the setting sun, casting long beams of orange light across the floor. “I mean, I know it’s a stretch, but… I’m assuming she—it—is gone. Her hat disappeared, right? So, she’s gone. You think that means we can get rid of the others, too?”

The shadow trailing her feet grew longer until its form got cast into the orange lit wall. Shy’s form quivered at the edges, their form almost vibrating before they shook their head in a very decisive no.

Celeste looked away, heading toward the desk. “Hiding’s your thing, Shy, not mine.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw her shadow recoil, shrinking at her words. She swallowed hard.

“Sorry,” she added quickly. “That was… there’s nothing wrong with… I didn’t mean—sorry.”

She bent over the desk, sifting through a mess of papers, pretending to look for something important. She could hear Pat softly grumbling as he approached Shy, no doubt offering them a low apologetical rumble on her behalf. Celeste watched them from under her lashes, making the empty Pokéball in her pocket feel heavier than ever.

Among the papers, most of which were unreadable documents and forms she didn’t care to understand, one small card caught her eye. A Ledyba wearing a birthday hat beamed up at her, the words “Happy Birthday, Little Lady-ba!” scrawled across the front in bright letters.

It was a silly thing, totally out of place. And far better than whatever else was going on. She flipped it open, and a big, cheerful “You’re 40!” popped up, surrounded by a mess of signatures and doodles. At the very bottom, written in a glittery pen—the same glittery pen still lying on the desk—was an unfinished note: “Babs, when mid-life knocks you…”

“When mid-life knocks you what?” Celeste muttered, glancing up at her Pokémon. Shy had drifted closer, and Pat, too, seemed curious. For once, her big mouth hadn’t ruined everything. She smiled, waving the card lightly in their direction. “Doesn’t look like Babs got to celebrate her birthday.”

She placed the card down, watching the shadows on the desk blend naturally with her own. Shy coiled around the card, their form rippling over it as if reading. They’d seem to be particularly curious about anything human. This time, though, their head tilted slightly, as if the concept of a birthday card still escaped them.

Celeste’s smile softened. It wasn’t much, but maybe this was her chance to bridge the gap she’d widened earlier.

“Hey, check this out.” She pointed to the computer monitor, where post-it notes clung to the sides of the screen—reminders about making copies of documents, calling a repair shop, and most importantly, “7 PM. Drinks on the roof. Fireworks for Babs.”

She nearly laughed when Shy stretched up, spilling shadows across the computer screen, far too eagerly. Maybe this was a mystery that wasn’t as scary? They couldn’t ignore the other for much longer, but for now?

“Come on, Shy,” Celeste said, tapping the desk. “Maybe we’ll find more about Babs’ party in the next office.”

—*——*—

They checked each office down the corridor, but no luck. No answers about the mysteries surrounding Cinnabar—or about Babs. To Shy’s disappointment, all they could find about her was a “Barbara” listed among the employees. A scientist, by the looks of it. But with nothing else, Celeste made the decision to move on.

When they reached the end of the hall, however, a heavy metal door blocked their way.

It was locked, of course. Before Celeste could consider running back to search for a key, she noticed a small keypad beside the door, complete with a fingerprint scanner and a digital display. She knew it was a long shot, but she pressed her thumb over it, anyway.

A buzzer rang out, and the words Access Denied flashed on the screen.

She grumbled, trying her other finger as if that would be any better somehow.

Access Denied, Access Denied… Access Denied. The display blinked furiously at her: Maximum number of attempts reached. Input override code.

“What the…” Celeste muttered, staring at the keypad like it might give her an answer if she glared hard enough. She could try finding another way in… that would be the smart move. But curiosity pulled her back. She reached for the keypad, typing 123456 with a smirk. The buzzer shrieked again, almost like it was daring her.

000000. 111111.

She could feel Pat’s eyes on her back, but she kept going despite whatever he thought.

222222.

Yeah, yeah. Celeste knew it was ridiculous, mashing numbers like some impatient kid at an arcade machine. Whatever “inner peace” she’d been striving for lately was clearly slipping. But now, after a solid minute of this, she needed to know what was behind this door. A faint whirring sound hummed from the other side, the rumbles of some machine, surely. And then there was that drip. Drip… drip… drip. A leaky faucet, maybe? Or something…more?

“You know,” she muttered, her eyes twitching as the buzzer screeched again, “I never asked Olga what kinda lab this was… That… feels like forever ago…”

She thought back to when they’d first left for Cinnabar, about three weeks ago. She came here for some community work (among other things) after the whole Ryder/Team Rocket debacle. Their job had been simple: deliver an electronic collar to Olga’s contact in the labs, see if they could reverse-engineer a way to disable the others still stuck on the Pokémon back in Icefall Caves. None of that had anything to do with what was happening now, but thinking about signals and technology gave Celeste some hope. Satellites. Phones. Even an internet connection. If there was a way to reach the outside world, it would be here.

She typed 999999 and sighed at the inevitable buzzer. Next should be 100000, right?

“How long do you think it’ll take to try all the combinations?” she asked, looking back at Pat. His deadpan stare said it all. “Come on, it can’t be that long. Ten options for the first number, ten for the second… there are six, so, uh, sixty, right?” She frowned. “Wait, is that how you do this?”

Her eyes fell on Shy, who was shrinking, flickering faintly like a flame about to go out. She blinked, wondering if she’d messed something up again.

Celeste opened her mouth to ask, but caught herself. She didn’t want to overwhelm the ghost with questions. Giving them space was probably the right move. Silently, she turned back to the keypad and punched in another code. And another. After a few more failed attempts, she felt a gentle tug at the hem of her jeans.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

“What’s up?” she asked, softening her tone.

Shy didn’t answer but drifted toward the door, their form shifting into a larger, more amorphous shape. Celeste glanced at Pat, confused. The Slowpoke blinked at her, equally unsure. Almost on instinct, she reached out and touched the shadow. Her hand passed through.

Oh, right. The portal thing they could do.

“You want us to go through?” she asked, though no answer came. She didn’t need one. Without hesitation, she motioned for Pat to follow and stepped into the darkness. After everything this week, she trusted Shy enough to literally follow them into the unknown.

The sensation was just as before—like falling, but not quite. More like being pulled in every direction at once, weightless. It barely lasted a second, but this time she was prepared for it, so Celeste tried to focus on the feeling of the void around her. The… endless… all-encompassing… nothing. She felt everything stretch out the more she look into it and—

And then they were out. Somehow dizzier than last time, but intact. Celeste steadied herself, glancing around. They were on the other side of the door.

“We really need to talk about that ability of yours,” she muttered, catching Pat as he wobbled. It was a skill that had saved them too many times already, but she needed to understand it better.

Shy flickered weakly in the greenish glow of the room beyond, drawing a frown from Celeste.

“That takes a lot out of you, doesn’t it?” she asked gently, and Shy gave a small, tired nod.

Celeste turned back toward the door. There was a button rather than a keypad on this side. She pressed it, and with a hiss, the door slid open. A faint chuckle escaped her lips. “So my idea of guessing codes wasn’t so great,” she said, shooting a glance at her shadow. “But, as much as I love that you got us through, maybe next time we should think it through together? You could’ve slipped under the door and just opened it from this side. That way, you wouldn’t be so tired.”

Shy gave another slow, reluctant nod. But Celeste dropped it. She knew when not to push.

“Alright,” she said, glancing at both Pokémon. “We’ve got a whole new area to explore. Let’s find somewhere safe for the night.”

—*——*—

“So… what kind of lab was this again?” Celeste’s voice echoed softly as she and her Pokémon moved through the dimly lit lab, their steps muffled by the steady hum of pumps. Massive tanks lined the walls, each filled with a glowing, almost neon liquid that felt way too bright and unnatural. It reminded her a little of Life Dew, though far more creepy. She couldn’t imagine anything living in that stuff. But then, one tank released a trail of bubbles, and further ahead, the liquid stirred. Celeste froze, catching a glimpse of something pink, shifting and amorphous just beneath the surface.

By the time they reached the next section of the lab, Celeste was busy listing all the blobby pink Pokémon she knew.

“Come on, Pat, it could totally be a Jiggly… puff…?” Her words trailed off as her foot crunched something.

She froze, glancing down.

The floor was littered with broken shards of glass, glistening green in the low light. Green water stains streaked across the dusty tiles, leading toward the centre of the room. There stood an even larger tank—cylindrical, towering, and very much broken. The green liquid dripped steadily from its cracked base onto a metal grate below, amplifying the sound through the empty, echoing space. The tank had been big enough to hold a Snorlax, which made Celeste uneasy.

Also, that was creepy as hell, but unfortunately she was getting used to that.

Celeste glanced over at Shy. They didn’t move, their dark form almost blending into the shadowy corners of the lab. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, then turned to Pat. “Watch out for the glass, ‘kay?” she muttered, stepping carefully over the shards as she approached the tank.

The green fluid was thicker than she’d expected, clinging to the edges of the broken glass. Part of her wanted to reach out, touch it, but Celeste still had some sense in her. She instead leaned in just enough to get a better look, but there wasn’t much to see. The smell of alcohol hung in the air, but this was another dead end.

Sighing, Celeste straightened up and scanned the room, looking for something more useful (or interesting). That’s when she spotted it—a workstation tucked into the far corner, massive computers humming softly and a whiteboard covered in sketches of what looked like… an antenna?

That’s what she needed.

Without wasting a second, she waved for her Pokémon to follow, stepping away from the broken tank. Pat nudged her as she passed, clearly wanting to move on to the next room. But Celeste wasn’t quite ready to leave just yet. “This could be big, Pat. I promise I won’t take long.”

He squinted at her, unsure, but nodded. That was their dance, wasn’t it? This time, he conceded at least, nodding slowly at her.

She reached the console and hesitated for just a moment before pressing a button on the keyboard. A black screen flickered on, displaying nothing but a blinking white cursor. No icons. No internet. Just an empty terminal awaiting input.

Celeste frowned. “Okay… I’ve got this,” she muttered, though she wasn’t entirely sure she did. Tentatively, she typed, “Phone.”

The screen responded almost immediately. Command not found.

Celeste grumbled, “Really? We’re doing this again?” She shot a glance at Shy and Pat. “Five minutes,” she promised. “I’m not staying here forever. Five minutes, and if nothing happens, we move on.”

The two Pokémon exchanged glances, but Celeste was already back to typing.

“Internet.”

Command not found.

Her fingers tapped the keys harder. “Call someone. Emergency.”

Command not found.

She clenched her jaw, fighting the urge to slam her fist on the keyboard. Why wasn’t anything cooperating today? She wasn’t usually bad with tech.

“Help,” she typed, almost in frustration.

To her surprise, the screen didn’t flash another rejection. Instead, a list of commands started scrolling down the terminal, lines of text blinking rapidly. Celeste’s heart skipped a beat, and she leaned in, scanning the screen. Most of it was incomprehensible, but then one word stood out.

BROADCAST.

“That’s it,” she whispered, eyes widening. Pat nudged her again, probably reminding her about the five minutes. “Just one more second, bud. I’m really close,” she muttered, her fingers already moving.

“BROADCAST,” she entered.

The cursor blinked, almost as if it was deciding whether to cooperate. Then a new window popped up.

Broadcast channel?

A list of frequencies appeared, most of them unfamiliar. But her eyes scanned for something useful until she found it: LEAGUE EMERGENCY DISPATCH.

Without hesitating, she selected it. The screen flickered, and a soft crackle of static buzzed from the speakers.

Activate Broadcast. Y/N?

Her hands shook slightly as she pressed “Y”. A small microphone icon blinked to life on the screen, waiting for her to speak.

She leaned in close, took a deep breath, and began, “This is Celeste Diaz, on Cinnabar Island. If anyone can hear me… we need help. We’re at Cinnabar Labs and—” She glanced at Pat and Shy, her voice faltering for just a moment before continuing, “there’s something wrong here. I think it’s getting worse. They made an entire tram disappear—tracks and all. P-Please. We need help.”

Her words echoed in the silence, and the static resumed, swallowing her message into the void.

Celeste fell back into a worn office chair, her heart pounding in her chest. She stared at the blinking cursor on the screen, waiting. Hoping. “Do you think that worked?” she muttered, turning to Pat.

But Pat wasn’t listening. His attention was fixed elsewhere. He was—

—*——*—

That’s the blob from the tanks, Pat!

Celeste didn’t have time to shout before Pat fired a Water Gun at the pink mass. The blob reacted instantly, blasting another Water Gun right back in a spray of mist that rained down on them. She blinked, her vision hazy as droplets filled the air. For a second, the pink shape wavered in the fog, and Celeste swore it looked like… another Slowpoke? Maybe? Was it always a Slowpoke? They were kind of blob-like, but…

But nothing! Celeste had to focus.

“Try restraining it with Conf—Ahhh! Pat?”

Before she could finish, something distinctively psychic slid the chair behind her forward, knocking her legs out from under her. She crashed into it, the backrest tilting far enough for her to see the ceiling—and there were pens and pencils floating above her, their tips pointed directly at her.

She barely had time to throw up her arms before the barrage rained down. It wasn’t the worse, but it hurt a little, and it was disorienting.

“Seriously?!” she shouted, swatting the pens away. Before she could finish the thought, Pat let out a bellow, pulling her attention back to the battle. The blob—which was really a Slowpoke—had given up on its floating-pens attack and was now rushing toward her, faster than it had any right to.

It took her brain a second to catch up. It was aiming at her.

Celeste rolled her chair back, mind snapping into focus. “Pat, use Confusion! Quick!”

Pat’s eyes glowed, and the blob-thing—it was a Slowpoke… but also not?—got yanked mid-air, suspended just long enough for Celeste to see its legs warping into a gooey mess, like it couldn’t quite keep its shape. Her Slowpoke didn’t linger though. In another split second, he hurled the creature onto a shelf, which collapsed on top of it with a clatter.

“What was that?” Celeste scrambled to her feet, still breathing hard. Pat’s tail swished in warning, however, and she followed his gaze. The creature was… it was reforming? Its body leaked from beneath the clutter, pooling together before twisting back into a Slowpoke. This wasn’t anything like Pat, though.

“Keep throwing it around!” Celeste yelled. Pat wasted no time, launching it again with another psychic blast. This time, Celeste couldn’t help but grin. They were getting so much better at this.

Of course, the moment she felt confident, she jinxed it. The universe wasn’t about to let this be easy. The gooey Slowpoke’s eyes flashed—just for a split second, but faintly enough for Celeste to recognise the move. Disable. Pat and Powder had been practising that one a lot for her not to.

Pat’s psychic grip faltered, and the creature splattered back onto the floor.

“Can you still use Confusion, bud?” Celeste asked, hopeful. Pat’s wide-eyed, worried look was all the answer she needed. He tried the move again, but nothing happened. “It’s okay, don’t worry,” she reassured him quickly. “You’ve still got plenty of other tricks.”

But then she saw the blob pulling itself back together, reforming into the shape of a Slowpoke. Its eyes locked onto her, and despite barely holding its shape, it was already moving toward her again. Celeste gritted her teeth. “Alright, fine. If it wants me so bad, I’ll give it a distraction.” She made up her mind in a heartbeat. “Pat, use Yawn. I’ll keep it busy.”

Pat grumbled, clearly not thrilled with the idea, but Celeste was already moving, darting to the side to give him room. The creature swerved, adjusting its path, and for the first time, Celeste got a real look at it. The face was all wrong—its eyes too small, and the mouth stretched unnervingly wide. It was almost like a Slowpoke, but distorted, like someone had tried to copy one and failed miserably.

The thing was… it wasn’t a copy like the others Celeste met. There was something distinctively real about this one.

Plus, it was angry. Really angry.

She hesitated. For just a second, watching it.

But then it charged at her, faster than she expected. Too fast for a Slowpoke. She barely had time to move before it slammed into her with a Headbutt, knocking the wind out of her and sending her sprawling onto the floor.

“Ugh—” Celeste groaned, more frustrated than hurt. A real Slowpoke would’ve done some damage. As she scrambled to her feet, something slipped from her pocket—Shy’s Pokéball. It rolled across the floor, and panic spiked through her, and it wasn’t from the battle. She lunged for the ball, ignoring the Slowpoke-thing lining up its next attack.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Shy watching. They didn’t lift a finger to help, though. In fact, Celeste could swear they discreetly nudged the ball further, sending it rolling under a large machine, just out of her reach.

When Celeste stared at them, completely outraged, Shy just pretended they weren’t even there. She swallowed her retort, realising Shy knew about the Pokéball in her pocket. This felt like a pretty clear statement about how they felt about it. She sighed, as if doused with a cold splash of reality. Quite literally, too, as a weak-ass Water Gun hit her square in the face.

This Pokémon was starting to get annoying.

She turned to the Fakepoke coming for her and kicked it. Her—eeewww. Her foot sank into its squishy head, and Celeste immediately recoiled in disgust. But just then—plop! Yawn bubbles popped in the air, swirling around the creature’s half-formed face.

The creature’s eyes narrowed, locking onto Pat. Her Slowpoke looked just as fed up as she was, his eyes not empty but almost frowning. He knew he had to choose his next move carefully—one wrong step, and he’d be asleep or worse, hit with another Disable. The thing about battling a Slowpoke, Celeste had learned, was that they were annoyingly tricky. If they played their cards right, they could wear down even stronger opponents, one slow, frustrating move at a time.

“Water Gun!” Celeste called, fighting the urge to scrape the goo off her shoes, forcing herself to stay focused on Pat. He deserved her full attention right now. “Don’t go for power. Just keep it busy until it’s out.”

For once, her plan worked without a hitch. Pat unleashed an even bigger stream of water than she’d expected, maintaining it for nearly a full minute, drenching the blob with a steady, relentless blast.

At the end of it, the blob—no longer a Slowpoke—slumped to the floor, slowly mixing into the water, and for once, it didn’t reform.

Celeste cautiously approached, grabbing one of the pens scattered from the earlier attack and prodding the goo. It twitched slightly, but didn’t stir. Asleep, for sure, but knocked out? It didn’t really matter.

“This has to be one of the weirdest battles we’ve ever fought,” she muttered, scraping the goo off her shoes with a grimace. “And I really don’t want to deal with it again.”

Her eyes drifted to the narrow gap where Shy had shoved the Pokéball. She could ask them to get it back, but… maybe it was better this way. Maybe she wasn’t meant to carry a Pokéball for someone who didn’t want to be caught.

“Let’s… maybe find somewhere else to hide.” She gave the unconscious blob one last look before nodding to Pat. “We’ve had enough of this place.”

—*——*—

The sun was still sinking when they crossed the lab floor and reached a large window beside a fire exit. Celeste paused to peek outside. For a moment, the world beyond the glass seemed deceptively peaceful. A gentle breeze swayed the purple cotton candy clouds, and the sky was streaked with shades of orange. She spotted a fire ladder leading up the side of the building, but it was retracted, sitting just out of reach on a platform above the second floor. From there, proper stairs climbed towards the roof. Decorative cylinders also flanked the walls, blocking her view of the full path, but that didn’t matter.

They could go up from inside, scout from a high vantage point, and spot anyone approaching before they were noticed. And with those stairs? They’d have plenty of escape routes if things went south.

She pulled away from the window, her mind already moving to their next steps. Shy hovered nearby, quieter than usual. Whether it was the Pokéball incident or something else, she couldn’t shake the awkwardness between them.

Celeste cleared her throat, trying to mend things. “What do you say, Shy? Want to see if we can find a way to the roof? Maybe we’ll figure out if Babs ever had her birthday party.”

The ghost perked up at that, the edges of her shadow sharpening as with their spirits. It made her heart lift a little too. She hadn’t completely blown it—yet. Who needed a Pokéball anyway, when you had friendship, right?

As they walked toward a nearby lift, Celeste rambled on about birthday parties, how she loved them, and how the food was the best, and so on. Shy seemed to be paying attention, but even though Celeste could ramble about any topic forever, their enthusiasm faded a little by the time she stopped by the lift.

When she pressed the button, her thoughts had already moved elsewhere—to the battle she and Pat had just fought.

Her Slowpoke was getting stronger every day, and they were communicating so much better now. She smiled, proud of their progress. But the thought circled back to Shy. They were a Pokémon, too, but could they fight?

Probably.

Celeste had asked them about it a few days ago, after a particularly bad run-in with Jenny. She’d suggested Pat could use some help in battle, but Shy had immediately retreated into her shadow, more skittish than usual. Still, Celeste had seen how closely they watched when Pat used his moves. Even before that, she’d noticed the way her shadow flickered with excitement when she’d battled Luan back on Two Island.

There was something there.

But this line of thinking wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She instead pivoted to another trait of the ghost: how much they seem to know about other Pokémon.

“Have you ever seen anything like that thing from earlier, Shy?” Celeste asked, stepping into the lift.

Shy hesitated, then shook their head softly.

Celeste sighed as she hit the button for the top floor. “It wasn’t strong. But it really hated me for no reason.” Her voice rose with frustration. “And it was violent, right? You saw that, didn’t you?”

Shy shrunk at her tone, and Pat nudged her leg, as if telling her to calm down.

She took another deep breath. Truth was, the idea that another thing attacked her just made her even more worked up than she was this past few days. It was questions, questions, questions, but never any answer. And a lot of running.

Surely nothing could surprise her anymore.

With a soft ding, the lift doors slid open.

…

Yep. Nothing could surprise her at all…

—*——*—

Carefully, Celeste stepped over a shattered chair, ducking as a dangling wire crackled faintly overhead. Just a few steps ahead, a massive hole gaped in the roof, allowing the evening breeze to sweep in and scatter loose papers across the floor. Shards of mirrored glass reflected the purple sky above—these were from solar panels, she guessed, finding the rest of it further ahead, smashed beyond repair.

Roofs don’t just give in like this, she thought, staring at the gaping hole.

She took in the scene again. Everything was so completely trashed that it seemed she left Cinnabar’s perfection altogether.

“Stay alert, both of you,” Celeste whispered, her voice low. But despite the wreckage, there was no sign of any immediate danger. No movement other than their own. Shy’s form rippled as they scanned the room, confirming that none of the creatures were nearby.

They kept moving, and soon came across a conference room—one of those fancy ones with glass walls and an oversized table that had tipped onto its side. From the glass, Celeste spotted a box in the corner. A smile spread across her face when she realised what was in there.

“Looks like we found Babs’ birthday fireworks.” She didn’t even finish the sentence before Shy stretched forward to inspect it. Celeste hoped it would lift their spirits—especially because checking the roof for remnants of a party was a big no-go right now.

She followed the ghost in, her eyes wondering around the room, drifting to an overturned projector. The device had tumbled with the table but was still pointed at the opposite wall, casting a flickering image onto it. Maybe they could watch a movie, she thought, chuckling.

Still, she couldn’t resist it. Celeste propped the projector back up onto a chair, squinting at the image. The picture remained blurred and shaky, but something about it caught her attention. The image… it wasn’t a movie, obviously. It was a photo. Of ruins? She could just make out the stone columns and narrow cavernous corridors.

Tech, green vats, blobby monsters—and now Cinnabar labs dipped into archaeology, too? She… actually vaguely recalled her parents mentioning something about Cinnabar before she left for her journey, but clearly it wasn’t anything important (or interesting) or else she would remember it.

Celeste turned to the computer connected to the projector, pressing a few keys, but the image remained frozen. She glanced around. Shy and Pat were still focused on the fireworks box, oblivious. By her feet, a filing folder caught her eye. She picked it up—empty. But when she flipped it over, one word stood out, stamped in bold letters: Tanoby.

She squinted.

Tanoby.

As in “Discovery in Tanoby.”

This must be connected to the article she’d read earlier.

Standing, she turned back to the projector and fiddled with the focus knob, adjusting it until the image sharpened. The flickering didn’t stop, but the picture was becoming clearer. She twisted the knob a little more, and—

Arceus. This… it couldn’t…

She stepped back, staring in disbelief at the image. The ruins on the screen became unmistakable. Massive stone columns lined the entrance of an ancient temple, each one marked with strange, twisted symbols—symbols that looked almost like letters. And within the letters were circles… eyes.

She knew those markings. She’d seen them erase a tram only a few hours earlier.

“G-guys, I think we really need to talk about this now …”