Chapter 79 - Cinnabar Labs II: The Journals

For the past week, Celeste had been pretending she could understand what was going on in Cinnabar if she thought about it hard enough. Yes, she did have some pieces of the puzzle: Psychic-type Pokémon had taken over the island—she’d even seen them. They looked like letters, and they had bulging watchful eyes. These Pokémon could twist reality, warp minds, and they created things. Mostly people, but there was a Growlithe and a Dhelmise running around too.

A lot of facts, sure. But they didn’t really ever amount to anything. Not until now, anyway.

The last rays of sunlight warmed her back as the flickering light of the projector burned into her eyes.

“You know what my mum always said when we were out gathering info for her show?” Celeste’s voice dropped to a whisper, her fingers tracing the carvings displayed in the image. “Well, she said loads of things, really. Half the time it felt like she was trying to pass on the whole family business to me, which was fun... sometimes, but super annoying.”

She glanced at Pat and Shy. Both were watching her intently.

“Right… uh, the important one: ‘Working without all the facts can hurt us.’ We can’t always know everything, but she tried to drill it into my head that we should gather what we could from every source available to us. To be ready.”

Her gaze hardened as it returned to the carvings on display.

“Whatever happened here… it’s tied to this ‘Discovery in Tanoby.’ I’m sure of it now,” Celeste whispered, her voice barely audible. “I know you’re scared, and talking about it isn’t easy… but maybe we’re finally close to some real answers. And figuring this out—” Her breath hitched, her gaze shifting to her shadow. Shy gave a small nod. “The head of the labs—Dr Fuji—think you can help me find his office?” she asked the ghost.

She didn’t need to ask twice. The moment she stepped out of the conference room, her shadow stretched long, spilling over the damaged floorboards and twisted metal and wood scattered around. They looked and looked, until Shy’s ghostly form tugged at her leg, pulling her toward an office with a half-broken door, its hinges groaning as they entered.

Celeste approached cautiously, the air inside feeling colder than the ruined corridors outside. This room was a disaster—worse than the others. Bookshelves had collapsed into heaps, and the desk was nothing but splinters. Where a window should have been, there was only an enormous hole, letting in a chill wind that had long since swept away anything useful. Celeste didn’t even bother searching for a computer—none would have survived this. Instead, she moved toward the hole in the wall, sizing it up. It wasn’t an answer, but she was happy to see the fire escape stairs were nearby. This floor was gone, but the drop down was manageable.

Still…

“How’d you know this was Fuji’s office?” Celeste asked, glancing at Shy. In response, her shadow swirled over something glinting among the broken glass.

Pat approached it first.

“Careful, bud,” she said with a smirk, shifting the Slowpoke to safety. “You’re still recovering from that last battle, and your skin’s not that thick.” His tail swished happily as she set him down further away. She shook her head, chuckling, before crouching to inspect the glass.

Among the shards was a broken picture frame. Inside were Fuji’s credentials—he was a biologist, with a master’s in Genetics, a doctorate in...

“What the hell is archeogenetics?”

Celeste turned back to Shy, but the ghost had drifted over to Pat, who was now nosing through a pile of old books the ghost had pointed out to. For a brief moment, Celeste felt… warmth. The three of them could really be a team. Heck, the five of them could, once Powder and Aria were back to normal. Those two would completely freak Shy out, no doubt.

Her thoughts were cut short when Pat waddled over with something clutched in his mouth.

A book.

Celeste took it, and as she opened it, a photo slipped out, fluttering to the floor. She picked it up, studying the image. It was a family portrait—Dr Fuji, and what looked to be his wife, daughter, and their Pokémon, enjoying a sunny day at one of Cinnabar’s cafés. The little girl, with striking teal hair, giggled as she passed a teacup to her dad. Except, the teacup wasn’t just any teacup—it was a Sinistea. And perched on her head was another familiar figure:

A Scorbunny, who she was pretty sure was called Whitey.

“This is the girl I met the other day.” She turned the picture so Shy and Pat could see. “Amber. She invited me for tea.” A snort escaped her. “Hope she doesn’t make me drink out of a Sinis—”

She blinked, drawing back the memory from the other day. Amber had a Sinistea with her. A ghost Pokémon. That meant…

Arceus!

Celeste was almost fifteen, and this island had been pushing her to the limits of her sanity. What could it be doing to a little girl? Was Amber all alone out there, feeling lost and misunderstood? Maybe her dad was with her. Or… Or maybe Dr Fuji was behind all of this.

Amber had mentioned Blaine when they met.

The Gym Leader who Celeste couldn’t find. Could Amber’s home be where people were hiding? If that was the case, why would Ariana complain about not being allowed to check on Giovanni? Giovanni’s house was right across from Amber’s. Sneaking over wouldn’t be that hard. No, that couldn’t be it. But then what…?

Shy gave her another nudge, this time toward the book Celeste was holding.

Right... Focus.

Celeste opened the book, her eyes widening as she realised it wasn’t a book at all—it was a journal. Fuji’s journal. She glanced at Shy, and with a shaky exhale, she managed a smile.

“That conference room feels like a good spot to settle in for a long read,” she said. “Shall we?”

—*——*—

Celeste ripped the cushion from a broken chair, settling beneath the flickering projector for what little light it offered. The sunset was long gone, leaving only the quiet starlight outside. Pat flopped onto her lap, giving her that goofy Slowpoke grin of his, which only widened as she scratched his snout. He was ready for a well-earned nap after the day they’d had.

Shy lingered, hesitant as always, but Celeste soon felt the coolness of her shadow stretching across her shoulders. She caught the faint glow of their eyes behind her, but this time resisted the urge to turn around. She didn’t want to spook them with eye contact.

“Alright then,” she murmured, flipping open the journal to the first entry. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

—*——*—

For Amber.

To you, my daughter, I give the world.

And for you, I burn it down.

—*——*—

January 20XX (Four Years Ago)

The Consortium

A few years ago, I found myself standing in the great city of Mesagoza, amidst some of the most powerful figures in the world. The occasion? A summit convened by the local League Chairwoman Geeta of Paldea. Her goal was to assemble a task force—an elite group of scientific minds, alongside select industry leaders—to explore the Great Crater of Paldea. Why I was invited to this first meeting still escapes me, but I suspect my old university colleague, Sada—or should I say, Professor Sada—had a hand in it.

I must say I remember our university days fondly, when we both were consumed by the mysteries encoded in the DNA of ancient Pokémon. Those were simpler times, but a lifetime ago. Our paths have long since diverged. Over the years, Sada begun chasing legends; I, however, remained tethered to science, to reality. Fairy tales and Scarlet Books had no place in my work.

Yet, despite my scepticism—and no desire to ever step foot in that crater—I attended the meeting.

Sada, of course, was as persuasive as ever. Her passion filled the room as she spoke, and I could see the gleam in my colleagues’ eyes. The promises she made of discovery, of fantastical secrets—ancient, prehistoric Pokémon even—lying just beneath the crater’s depths, was intoxicating to some. Treasure lies in the great crater of Paldea, and it’s just waiting to be claimed.

I couldn’t hide my scorn.

Prehistoric Pokémon alive in the present day? Absurd.

Or so I thought when she revealed a grainy image of a Pokémon from eons past—which despite Sada’s ravings was nothing but the Ground-type Pokémon Donphan, common all over the world.

By the end of the meeting, I was eager to return home to my wife and baby girl, to put Sada’s wild ideas behind me once more. But as I prepared to leave, someone approached me—Lusamine Aether, the head of the prestigious Aether Foundation.

Her eyes gleamed sharply at me.

“This meeting was a waste of time, but we’ve come too far, Doctor. Let’s not make our trip a loss.”

Intrigued by the cryptic offer, I followed her to a second meeting that evening, one far more secretive. This time, there was no Chairwoman Geeta. Instead, it was her “industry partners” who had called the gathering. At the head of the table sat none other than Joseph Stone, the wealthiest man in the world. His booming laughter filled the room as he spoke casually with his companions—Donna Razzo, biotech magnate, and Sam Silph, the towering figure behind Silph Co. Across from them sat George Rose, whose influence in Galar was growing by the day.

It was humbling to be in the presence of such titans, yet unnerving at the same time. They spoke with a level of power that went beyond money; it was the power to shape the future. Luckily, I wasn’t alone. Several of my scientific peers had been invited, though many wore sceptical expressions, unsure of where this gathering was headed.

Over dinner, Mr Stone spoke.

“Prehistoric Pokémon,” he said, cutting through the chatter. “Not as a legend, but as a reality. Made possible through science.”

The room stilled. Simple words, but they carried weight. This, as I soon learned, was the birth of the Consortium—a union of scientists and corporations, pooling their resources to chase Stone’s grand vision. The goal? A machine capable of extracting and reconstructing ancient Pokémon DNA. To bring fossils back to life. It was Sada’s dream, but stripped of its fantasies—rooted in hard science.

Not everyone was enthralled.

Professor Rowan was the first to speak, his voice gruff. “To create a Pokémon is to play god. A violation and desecration of His creation.” I hadn’t taken him for a religious fool, but then again, this type of behaviour is to be expected from a Sinnohan.

Then, a younger voice rang out—sharp, passionate. “Once you bring them back, what next? Do you stop there, or push further? Cloning, synthetic Pokémon, weapons. This is dangerous technology.” The speaker was a young scientist. I hadn’t known him then, but he walked out before dessert, vowing to push for policy reform if this project moved forward. I later learned his name—Elm. He was Oak’s prized student.

By the time the meeting concluded, several seats had emptied. I, however, remained silent, despite agreeing with many of the points made by my peers. The possibilities of this technology... they pulled at me, stirred something deep inside.

Bringing a fossil back to life...

Could this technology—this consortium—be the key to what I’ve been seeking? Could it be the breakthrough that I craved?

For Amber.

—*——*—

“Fossil Pokémon, huh…” Celeste murmured, glancing up at the picture of the ancient temple on the screen. “You think they brought those things back to life, like they did with Aerodactyl?”

Pat was already snoozing, his soft breaths rising and falling in time rhythmically. But there was a gentle tug at her shoulder—Shy’s way of showing they were listening. Celeste tapped the name on the page—Joseph Stone.

“This guy here? He’s the president of Devon Corporation. Big paleontology nerd. I guess he figured archaeology was close enough to his thing, or maybe he just likes old stuff?” She shrugged. “But, yeah, he’s also my parents’ main show sponsor. We were in Hoenn a while back... uh, do you know where Hoenn is?” She glanced at her shadow, who tilted their head slightly, shaking it. “Right... It’s this region southeast of here, not too far.”

So… Hoenn must have been before they joined her… Celeste thought, still not fully turning to the ghost.

“Anyway,” she continued, “when we were there, Mr Stone invited us to this big museum opening. No big deal—Mum and Dad get dragged to those all the time. But halfway through the night, he pulls Mum aside, real secretive-like, to show her something Devon Corp had been working on. She comes back an hour later with this Pokéball, acting all smug. Apparently, she’d ‘one-upped some Gym Leader from Sinnoh’ and got the better fossil. That’s how we got Aerodactyl. She calls her Petra. And trust me, you do not want to pet Petra. She’ll take your hand off. Maybe your whole head if she’s in a mood…”

Celeste trailed off, her eyes lingering on the page. Maybe that Elm guy had a point after all... fossils were dangerous.

Shy leaned fully against her now, their glowing eyes casting a faint light across her cheeks.

Celeste smirked, giving them a quick side glance. “Next entry?”

—*——*—

It is in amber that we find these exquisite fossils, wholly preserved through the ages.

For amber endures.

This feels like destiny, my daughter.

—*——*—

February 20XX (Four Years Ago)

Project Helix

After years of relentless effort, we are finally seeing results. So bear with me, my daughter, while I indulge in a little “science.”

Scattered throughout Indigo Bay, and stretching as far as the northern mountain range toward Mt. Silver and Mt. Moon, lie countless fossils, waiting to be unearthed. Among the most common are the so-called Helix Fossils: the ancient, spiral-shaped remains of a long-extinct Pokémon known to us as Omanyte.

As demonstrated by [Wu et al.], fragments of ancient DNA can undergo a genomic restoration process. By introducing genetic material from a close evolutionary counterpart, the missing sequences are filled in, allowing for the reconstruction of a more complete genome. Wu’s initial trials yielded only limited success and organic samples struggled to stabilise. However, subsequent research by [Vargas et al.] revealed something intriguing: DNA linked to specific elemental phenotypes (EP) was more prone to degradation than others. Vargas hypothesised that introducing DNA from Pokémon of a similar elemental type could promote greater genomic stability.

In Omanyte’s case, Shellos DNA was initially used, but stabilisation was weak, leading to rapid tissue decay. But when Gastrodon DNA was used—despite its genetic coding being nearly identical to Shellos—the outcome was different. Something within the nucleotides, particularly those tied to the Ground typing, sparked limited tissue growth. Yet, even then, the growth proved unsustainable, decaying before any complete specimen could form.

A breakthrough, however, came from an unexpected source. Devon Corporation—courtesy of Mr Stone—provided samples from a newly discovered Water/Rock-Type Pokémon, Relicanth, found in the ocean’s depths. Dubbed the Longevity Pokémon, Relicanth’s genetic material exhibited remarkable proprieties. When we applied these samples to the Omanyte fossils, we observed immediate progress. The Rock-type EP acted as a stabilising agent, allowing tissue to grow within the incubation chamber.

It was around this time that our Hoenn collaborators also sent us the (patent-pending) Ciclotron Energy Accelerator (CEA), a device we retrofitted to amplify cellular regeneration.

What followed exceeded even our wildest expectations. In just one week, the accelerated development produced results far beyond what we had imagined.

We had done it. Omanyte lived again.

I wish Professor Sada could have seen it. She once spoke of dreams like this—visions of prehistoric life living among us, and I have no doubt she would have marvelled at the ancient creature we have brought to life. But alas, my old lab partner has long since withdrawn into her crater, with her public outings becoming rarer by the day.

Amber, let me leave you with this thought:

Through the power of science—not myth or fairy tales—we have proven that we are no longer slaves to the whims of nature.

—*——*—

Celeste kept flipping through the pages, completely drawn in, even though half of the technical stuff flew right over her head. The next entries laid out Fuji’s progress over the years, but things hadn’t exactly gone as smoothly as his first success hinted. At first, they struggled to keep the revived Pokémon stable for long. When they finally managed that, a whole new problem popped up—rapid, uncontrollable growth.

It had taken Fuji and his so-called Consortium years to fix that mess. But even when they did, the Pokémon’s behaviour was all over the place—wild, unpredictable. And then there was the issue of extending the procedure to other fossils, something they clearly hadn’t mastered yet.

As the time passed, it was clear Fuji wasn’t just aiming for some scientific breakthrough, though. His ambitions spiralled into something grander. His words always came back to “achieving medical miracles” but he sounded more and more unhinged with every entry.

It was getting late, and Celeste’s head throbbed from trying to process some stuff about gene therapy and stem cells. She was just about to nudge Shy and suggest they call it a night when she turned the page.

The writing had changed. It wasn’t the neat, clinical handwriting she’d been struggling to read. This was different—letters carved into the page, jagged and messy. Angry. Were those... tear stains?

Well... sleep could wait a little longer.

—*——*—

They don’t understand it, Amber.

Those Leech Lifers don’t understand the cost of a life.

The cost of a soul.

Integrity? Ethics?

Tell me what father would not trade this and much more to ensure his kid had a chance?

—*——*—

May 20XX (two years ago)

Project Ditto

Even though my hand trembles with anger, I will force myself to begin at the beginning. I will attempt to treat these events with the detachment a scientist ought to possess. But by the end of this entry, the injustice—the sheer shortsightedness—of those with the power to achieve greatness will be glaringly clear.

The Consortium—or what’s left of it—visited the lab today. It started well enough. They were all brimming with praise for our success in restoring Omastar and Kabuto, and Rose even spoke about how our Galarian collaborators were working on a machine to piece together broken fossils. Nothing unusual there.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

Then, as always, Rose twisted the conversation to his so-called “energy crisis.” What was unusual, however, was how Joseph Stone actually indulged him this time, even encouraged the discussion. I held my tongue, waiting, until Stone casually mentioned something that made my blood boil.

He was looking into Infinite Energy... with, I kid you not, Maxie.

Yes, that Maxie. The lunatic shunned by every credible scientist on the planet for his obsession with “more land.” And Stone, one of the wealthiest, most powerful men alive, was partnering with him in search of something physically impossible.

—I simply cannot.—

No. I must not get carried away.

We concluded the tour of the facilities without incident. They marveled at the restored fossils, satisfied enough with their spectacle. When they seemed ready, I guided them to the conference room for what I believed was the most important part of the day.

Our future.

As expected, the moment I introduced scaling the fossil restoration process, the discussion derailed into profits and shares. They wasted a full hour debating money. It’s practically a scientific experiment to watch them argue.

Joseph Stone maintained that resurrecting fossils was a passion project, claiming he didn’t care for the money—even though he held the majority of the shares. Lusamine Aether, ever sanctimonious, declared she wasn’t in it for profit either. She spoke of her “sanctuary,” where she intended to “rehabilitate” these ancient Pokémon out of the “goodness of her heart.”

At least Donna Razzo and Sam Silph were honest.

Razzo hoped to extract chemicals from the ancient Pokémon to launch a new line of luxury products. She claimed the title of her new line, Blast from the Past, was testing well in focus groups. Her cosmetics, believe it or not, already used Gloom extract for perfumes and Flabébé’s flowers for makeup pigments—naturally, all “compassionate” practices that didn’t exploit the Pokémon. The moment she realised the fossils weren’t really viable for her purposes, she shifted her attention to mass-producing them for sale—until that too became a logistic nightmare. She lost interest almost immediately after.

Silph was no different, even though his angle was simpler: find new moves to patent for his TMs. As that didn’t seem to be panning out either, he checked out just as fast.

With their distractions out of the way, I finally introduced the real reason I had called them here.

Project Ditto.

With our progress, we could now confidently bring a Pokémon fossil back to life from just a few strands of DNA. The next logical step wasn’t resurrecting extinct species—it was applying the process to living ones.

Of course, Rose interrupted me before I could even finish. “Cloning?” he said bluntly. “That’s what you’re proposing?”

Yes, I was talking about cloning. The potential was limitless, but of course, their narrow minds couldn’t grasp it.

“It goes against the beliefs of my sanctuary,” Lusamine feigned shock.

“Why bother cloning when breeding is cheaper and easier?” Sam Silph chimed in, conveniently leaving out that he owns half the breeding centres in Indigo.

The rest of the room quickly followed suit, each voice adding to the chorus of disapproval. I was not shaken—I had anticipated pushback and was prepared with arguments.

“This is only the beginning,” I told them. “This technology can change medicine, science, humanity.” The words fell on deaf ears. So, I shifted to a more practical angle. “Why waste time breeding rare Pokémon or capturing them in the wild when we can grow Lapras and Dratini safely in our labs?”

That got a laugh from Rose. “Ever heard of supply and demand?” he said, adding, “It’s a waste of energy.”

I pressed on, trying to open their eyes. I spoke of enhancing Pokémon, of creating hybrids. I even hinted at the possibility of human cloning. But as I spoke, their faces twisted from scepticism to something darker. They weren’t just dismissing me—they were questioning my sanity.

Could they truly not grasp the potential of this technology?

Finally, I revealed my trump card.

“What if we didn’t stop at rare Pokémon? What if we cloned something… Legendary?”

The room fell into stunned silence. Stone’s expression darkened; I could almost see him calculating the cost of having me committed. I didn’t let it faze me. Instead, I reached for my briefcase.

I wouldn’t make such a claim with nothing to show.

When I set the object on the table, they all leaned forward, confused. It was a chunk of amber, similar to the ones holding some of the fossils we had worked with before. But this was different. Trapped inside was a single strand of pink fur—not as pristine as I had hoped, but enough.

I cleared my throat. “Mew,” I said. “The first Pokémon. Said to contain the genetic code of every Pokémon that has ever existed.”

I deferred explaining how I got that fossil—not because I thought any of them would be against my dealings with the black market, but because I did not want to share my sources. I waited, letting the weight of my revelation sink in.

“If we successfully clone Mew, we will have access to the base genetic code of every known Pokémon. And perhaps even more than that. The possibilities are limitless. Medicine, human health—everything could be revolutionised. We could unlock the code of life itself.” I paused, letting the enormity of it all hanging in the air. “With the power of Mew, we could eliminate disease. We could conquer old age. We could become legends. We could become gods.”

The looks on their faces said it all.

They thought I was mad.

Donna Razzo was the first to speak. “Old age is good for business. We sell creams for that.”

Typical. She wouldn’t want to cure all diseases—there’s no profit in that. Better sell Ekans Oil to the masses.

The others piled on with their so-called “ethical concerns.” They had no issue resurrecting Pokémon from fossils, but now drew a line at cloning?

The hypocrisy!

I wanted to scream at them, to tear apart their shallow reasoning piece by piece. How could they stand there, smug with their self-righteous objections, while turning a blind eye to their own misdeeds?

Silph dared to lecture me on ethics, while his company poured millions into researching “digital life”? And Lusamine, sitting on her throne of moral superiority, while Faba makes horrors in the dark corners of her so-called “sanctuary.”

They accused me of crossing lines, while quietly redrawing their own to fit their profits. It wasn’t the ethics they cared about—it was control. As long as they could package their ambitions as “compassion” or “innovation,” they felt justified. But the moment someone like me pushed the boundaries in a way they couldn’t exploit, suddenly they were all saints.

But fine. Let them walk away. They’ve already made me rich, and I don’t need them. I will forge ahead—with or without them.

—*——*—

Celeste finished the entry in silence. By the time she set the journal down, Shy’s shadow had spread across her entire shoulder, their glowing eyes brighter than ever. They exchanged a look—with eyes and all—no words needed, no shying away.

Yeah, all this cloning and mad scientist stuff sounded super sketchy, but still…

“Next page?” Celeste giggled, her fingers already slipping to the corner of the page, ready to flip it.

—*——*—

My Amber, Blaine often says that all those that are born on this island have fire on their souls.

I know you have.

Your fire is like fireworks. Burning brilliantly, for it knows fickleness.

Mine is, of all things, a singe. The butt of a cigarette that didn’t even realise it burned down the forest.

I fear I burned your hopes for a future.

But… I still hope there are trees in those woods.

—*——*—

May 20XX (two years ago)

The Consultant

After last week’s debacle, I knew I needed a bolder strategy. I could carry on with the project alone, but without the Consortium’s backing—and protection—I would be at the mercy of policymakers like Doctor Elm.

He wouldn’t hesitate to shut us down.

I am not proud to admit the lengths I went to, but honesty compels me to record it.

I resorted to blackmail.

It all started during a prior meeting with the Consortium. I kept mostly to myself as usual, but Dr Faba... he has a habit of running his mouth after one too many drinks. That night, a long tap opened, and he revealed far more than he should have about the chimera they were aiming to create. I didn’t get all the details, but I heard enough.

“Cloning Mew seems like a far lesser sacrilege compared to crafting a Pokémon in Arceus’s image. That is, if you’re concerned about divine wrath.”

Blunt. Direct. When dealing with someone like Lusamine Aether, anything less would’ve been a waste of time.

She cut straight to the point. “What do you want?”

My demands were clear and simple: I wanted her backing. If not the full Consortium, then her personal protection, so I could continue my research unchallenged. I wanted her to ensure her associates wouldn’t interfere. Most of all, I wanted to make sure my daughter wouldn’t die because some self-serving woman was more invested in selling face cream than advancing science.

Lusamine didn’t like it. But she was in no mood to argue. Sensing an opportunity, I pushed further.

“Arceus Plates—that is such an obscure subject,” I noted, watching her reaction. “And I happen to know you don’t have anyone on your team capable of digging that deep. I want your consultant.”

Her reaction was immediate—cold amusement masking irritation. She laughed, dismissing me outright at first. But it quickly became clear she was protecting someone.

From me.

Hah. She was the monster here.

Still, I recognized that look, that instinct to shield a loved one from the darker paths we walk. I… had felt it myself.

“I grew up on this island with Gym Leader Blaine,” I told her. “He always wanted me to go on a journey with him, while I pushed him to study by my side. It sounds foolish, I know, trying to protect someone so much stronger than yourself. But I do. I protect him from knowing too much.” I leaned in, watching her closely. “I’ll make sure to do the same for your friend.”

Lusamine had enough sense to realise she had no choice. If she said no, I would find this elusive consultant on my own, and she knew it.

“You tell her nothing. Everything goes through me first,” she relented, her voice tight. “Whatever you’re up to, I don’t want her or her family dragged into it.”

Once again, their hypocrisy was staggering. But I didn’t argue.

A deal was struck.

And just like that, none other than the famed Professor Tiana Diaz became my consultant.

—*——*—

Celeste had to do a double take at that last line.

Yeah. She knew her mother was well connected, and she’d heard about her journey with Lusamine through the Alolan island challenge a million times (even though Celeste herself had only met Lusamine briefly). But still… she didn’t expect her mum’s name to pop up here.

And she definitely didn’t expect it to be the best thing ever.

Her mother, Tia Diaz—the “all-knowing one,” who was always right while Celeste was somehow always wrong—was getting duped by not one but two super shady people. Celeste couldn’t help the grin spreading across her face. She was going to hang onto this journal forever, and next time her mum dragged her into another lecture about “wasting her life” and “missing out on the amazing opportunities she got her,” Celeste would shove it in her face.

“Remember that internship you got me at the Aether Foundation?” BAM. “Looks like I dodged a bullet there, huh?”

Her laughter echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls until Shy tugged at her shoulder, clearly confused by her outburst. Celeste just shrugged and rubbed the back of her neck, muttering something about it being complicated.

And with the prospect of more dirt on her parents?

Yeah, she tore through the next few pages.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t any direct interaction between her mother and Fuji. A few scattered mentions of Lusamine here and there, mainly when Fuji needed information about Mew, but that was it. What stood out more, though, was how desperate Fuji seemed to get as she read on.

Each entry was addressed to Amber. He wrote about her illness in vague, terrifying terms—genetic, silent, ticking time bomb—and blamed his wife. Or, well, ex-wife, considering he’d spent an entire entry ranting about refusing to sign the divorce papers. His life was unraveling, and fast.

But it got worse when he talked about Project Ditto.

Failure after failure, this project was a complete mess. Fuji’s science-y explanations mostly went over her head, but she caught the part where he couldn’t “stabilise” whatever he was working on. His descriptions of the tanks downstairs were way too detailed, and by now, Celeste was pretty sure the Pokémon Pat had fought earlier was one of those failed Mew clones.

Yikes.

She understood the desperation, though. Amber had seemed perfectly fine when Celeste met her for all of five minutes—sweet, smiling, and offering tea like any normal kid. But the thought of that little girl having some kind of ticking-clock illness? Something lurking under the surface, waiting to strike? It didn’t sit right with Celeste, and she couldn’t even imagine what it’d be like to watch your own daughter go through that.

Which made her wonder… given how unhinged Fuji was becoming, had he finally snapped? Had he decided to take a more drastic approach?

With a deep breath, Celeste flipped to the next page.

—*——*—

For Amber,

Where there’s life, there’s a way.

—*——*—

April 20XX (this year)

Next steps

After extensive research, I have come to a critical conclusion: the issue with the failed Ditto clones does not lie in our methods, but in the corrupted Mew DNA we’ve been using. I recently reached out to Lusamine, hoping she might offer a lead on obtaining fresher samples. While I knew this would require considerable effort, I did not anticipate it becoming a herculean task.

Aside from absurd rumours about Mew hiding under a truck at Vermilion Harbour, there have been no credible sightings. From Hoenn to Sinnoh, across regions and oceans—nothing. This data gave me pause. Why do we believe Mew to be a real entity and not just another mythical creature, like so many deities in our world?

Unsatisfied, I contacted Lusamine again, pressing her for answers. To my surprise, she gave me Professor Diaz’s direct contact.

“There was a thing with her daughter,” she remarked, sounding bored. “Girl’s bratty, and Tia’s in a mood. Go bond over diapers and toddler tantrums if you want. I’m not getting involved.”

Of course, one such as Lusamine does not understand the complexities of parenthood. I wasted no time in reaching out to Tiana, and to my relief, we understood each other quite well. We both want nothing but to see our daughters thrive in a world that is too dark for their precious soul.

Tiana was forthcoming, far more than I expected.

While she confirmed that Mew sightings remain unrecorded in most of the world, she revealed that there are well-documented accounts of an island where a cult once revered Mew. This island, she explained, is believed to be Mew’s dwelling place. The good news: the location can be charted on a map. The bad news: it’s called Faraway Island for a reason. Remote, dangerous, inhabited by wild Pokémon far more powerful than what most trainers ever face, and accessible only during a small window of time each year.

Beyond that, the details are scarce. Few have made the journey, and fewer still have returned.

My heart sank when Tiana asked which Pokémon I planned to bring on such a perilous trip. I couldn’t bring myself to admit that the only Pokéballs registered to my license belong to my infant daughter. Instead, I mumbled something about asking Blaine for help, trying to sound competent. Her response, though well-intentioned, only deepened my troubles.

“You should consider bringing an Elite-level trainer,” she said gently, sensing my hesitation. “There’s a reason my husband and I have never attempted the trip ourselves.” Her next words struck like thunder. “Dead, you cannot help your daughter.”

Our call ended soon after. Apparently, young Celeste was struggling to figure out what her newly hatched Vulpix could eat.

“If you’d like,” I offered, hoping to tighten our connection. “I can put you in contact with Blaine. He’s raised many Vulpix over the years.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “But Celeste is capricious. She found herself the more difficult type of Vulpix.”

I sighed as the line went dead.

I was grateful, at least, that Tiana didn’t see me as the monster others might. But per my arrangement with Lusamine, I kept my true intentions with Mew to myself. What weighed on me now wasn’t the secrecy—it was the overwhelming uncertainty.

How would I survive Faraway Island?

—*——*—

Brat? Capricious? Seriously?

Celeste’s eyes narrowed. And Lusamine? Bad move. You don’t just hand over your friend’s contact info to some mad scientist because you’re annoyed with their kid.

She felt a soft tap on the side of her head, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was a hesitant pat, like someone wasn’t sure if they were being supportive or just awkward. Celeste barely turned her head, catching sight of her shadow hovering next to her, trying their best to be... well, comforting, she guessed.

It was actually kind of nice.

“Only two entries left,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Ready to find out how this island went to hell?”

—*——*—

For Amber.

Though I might go far away,

My heart is always with you.

—*——*—

September 20XX

Project Faraway

Tiana had insisted I bring an Elite-level team of Pokémon for the journey, and in the days following our conversation, it became clear why. Her husband, Professor Otto Diaz, had sent me more information about the island. According to him, strange and powerful Pokémon roam the seat of Mew—some even believe that other Legendary Pokémon visit the island to pay their respects. Otto, while less pragmatic than his wife, seemed to be the true expert on the subject.

“There’s debate,” he explained, “but I lean toward the theory that Faraway Island was once home to a great civilisation. Worshipers of the First One, Mew. Supposedly, they rivalled the Celestica people in power. The island’s dotted with ruins, but no one’s been able to properly study them. The location makes it nearly impossible. But from what I hear, it’s quite the sight.”

I couldn’t help but ask. “I know Tiana mentioned Elite-level Pokémon, but with your connections—and your own trainer prowess—have you never considered going yourselves? I would’ve thought Faraway Island would be the kind of mystery you’d want on camera.”

He hesitated, and when he finally spoke, his response—or lack thereof—caught me off guard.

“Tia mentioned you’re doing this for your daughter.”

I explained Amber’s condition and the situation I found myself in—or at least what I could without revealing too much. I opted to tell him that evidence suggested Mew’s fur contained a life-saving chemical. Whether he or Tiana truly believed me, I couldn’t say, but they didn’t press for more details.

“Our daughter’s angry at us right now,” Otto told me. “She thinks we don’t understand her, so she’s striking out on her own.” I opened my mouth to say that my situation with Amber was different, but Otto stopped me. “No, Fuji, it’s really not. From one father to another, let me tell you: Celeste was right. We were so focused on doing what we thought was best for her that we forgot to include her in that conversation. Parents can make mistakes too. Before you risk your life, make sure this is what Amber wants. Make sure you’ve exhausted all other options.”

The call ended soon after.

It was refreshing, in a way, to talk with the Diaz family rather than deal with Lusamine’s coldness. But their daughter is just a rebellious teen. Mine is dying.

We live in worlds apart. The Diazes cannot possibly conceive the depth of my pain. For Amber, it’s everything or nothing. There is no middle ground or conversation to be held.

Not long after that conference with Otto, I went to speak with my old friend Blaine.

His reaction mirrored Otto’s. “Find another way, Fuji. This can’t be your only option.”

Amber is his goddaughter, yet even he didn’t understand.

“If you can’t secure an Elite Four member, then come yourself,” I suggested. “I’ve been told I need an Elite-level team to be safe. Isn’t a Gym Leader close enough to that? Besides, I know you’ve got vacation days to spare.”

He tried to remain firm, but we both knew that if I went, he wouldn’t let me do it alone. “Can I at least choose the date?” he grumbled.

“Unfortunately, we have a narrow window. December is our best shot. It’s the low season for your Gym, is it not?”

Blaine chuckled in response. Apparently, he wanted to “stick it” to Lance by closing the Gym at an inconvenient time. He never had much to say about the previous Champion, Jasper, but his complaints about Lance are endless—mostly that he doesn’t know how to manage the Indigo League public affairs. I imagine I’ll have plenty of time to hear all about the young Blackthorn’s failings on this trip.

Days turned into weeks, and then months, as we prepared.

The hardest part was securing transportation. Once we finally found a ship willing to take us, the fall leaves were already showing, and Blaine grew ever more uneasy.

“Did the archaeologists say anything specific? I’m ready to face type disadvantages, but you mentioned Legendary Pokémon. What are we talking? Kyogre? Moltres?”

“I’ve been training my Gym’s strongest Delphox. She’s a specialist in barriers, and her Teleport might come in handy. Is one psychic-type enough? In fact, how many Pokémon should I take?”

“Do we really have to go by sea? Charizard travel is easier on the nerves.”

It comes down to cost and reward. What am I willing to sacrifice for my daughter? How can I be sure we’ll even find the Mew samples we so desperately need? How can I be sure they’ll even work?

The cost is high. The reward, everything.

Still, in a sea of uncertainty, I find myself praying. Perhaps to the First One itself.

Is there another path I haven’t seen?

—*——*—

Celeste finished the entry, then read it again. And again. Each time, the words blurred together, but it wasn’t Fuji’s pain and desperation that held her attention. No, those weren’t the lines she kept coming back to.

Maybe it was selfish.

What she couldn’t stop reading were her father’s words.

Shy had stopped their awkward attempts at patting her, but they hovered just by her. She leaned back against the wall, her eyes meeting the warm glow of theirs. They look right back at her this time. The red in their gaze was dim, and their bright yellow irises floated against it like stars in the night.

“Did you notice?” she began, the tiniest smile crossing her lips. “Both of us have yellow eyes.”

Shy blinked, almost startled, and for a second, Celeste thought they might retreat into the shadows again. But they didn’t. Not this time.

“Yours are cooler, though,” she added, her voice soft. “I like that they glow.”

The red in their eyes flared ever so slightly, like embers catching the wind.

Was that… blushing?

Celeste bit back a laugh. Man, she wished she could just hug them right now. But… yeah, maybe not push it too much.

Refocusing on the journal, her fingers traced over the words her father had spoken again.

“It’s hard,” she murmured, “not to think of them as bad guys who just want to control me and all that…” Her voice softened. “I used to think of them as my best friends, you know? Told them everything. But lately, we’re just... always arguing, and it’s like... we never talk about real stuff anymore.” She hesitated, then added, “I mean, the texts are better, but still…”

She let out a long breath. Then, with a small nod to Shy, she turned the page.

“Last entry.”

—*——*—

To Amber,

You are my everything.

You are my paradise.

My Xanadu

—*——*—

October 20XX

Project Xanadu

My daughter loves books. Her favourite is the tale of a young girl, lost in Wonderland.

It fascinates me—watching Amber play make-believe, seeing how she immerses herself in these stories. In her imagination, she is Alice, darting down rabbit holes and crossing through the looking glass. One moment she’s towering over everything, the next she’s shrinking, small enough to ask her Skitty for directions, laughing as she goes.

Every time I look at her, I have but one desire:

I must ensure that the light in her eyes never fades.

For Amber, I’ve been prepared to do the impossible. But now, I wonder—maybe I won’t have to?

Perhaps, just perhaps, the Legends do hear our prayers. Or perhaps a pair of archaeologists decided they didn’t want my desperate fate weighing on their consciences.

But let me begin properly.

A book arrived in the mail this morning.

At first glance, I couldn’t imagine why Otto Diaz had sent it. A poetry book. Something Amber might enjoy in the future, sure, but far from my immediate concerns.

Or so I thought.

The first poem was titled A Vision in a Dream. A Fragment.

“In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure-dome decree:

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea…”

I read the lines, also scanning the other poems that followed. It seemed strange, but something about the name Alph tugged at my memory. Where had I heard that before?

When I set the book down, I was lost in thought, pondering not just Xanadu—this supposed utopia, a paradise beyond comprehension—when I noticed a note slipped between the pages. It was from Otto, and it mentioned the Ruins of Alph, just south of Violet City.

That was it. The name jolted my memory.

Those ruins were a well-known excavation site in Johto, though their mysteries still eluded researchers.

My interest piqued, so I went to study the map of Indigo pinned on my wall. The first thing I noticed was that no river—sacred or otherwise—ran near the ruins.

Puzzled, I went back to Otto’s note.

Apparently, the ruins are the subject of much debate. Some argue it was once a thriving city, while others claim the very fabric of reality is distorted there. Some believe a gateway to the so-called Xanadu of the poem lies hidden within those ancient walls. Otto even included pictures of the engravings found on the site.

Were these engravings letters? The shapes were close, but something was off.

Still intrigued, I read on. Otto had included a translation of the inscriptions. They spoke of a great power, something primal. And he added that these inscriptions aligned with sightings of strange phenomena reported by the excavation team.

At first, I dismissed it. It was all very fascinating, yes, but these ruins would bring me no closer to saving Amber. Still, despite myself, I kept reading. Otto had attached a summary of a recent study analysing energy signatures at various ancient sites with similar engravings. The researchers hoped to harness the energy of primordial beings, such Arceus itself.

Does it always come back to energy?

Despite my wariness, I had no reason to distrust the Diazes.

Though the study yielded no conclusive evidence of Arceus, there was something else—an unexpected discovery. A few sites, including Alph, Tanoby, and the Solaceon Ruins, shared a peculiar energetic signature. Higher-frequency beta waves, unlike anything seen in humans or Pokémon.

I hadn’t anticipated being drawn in like this, but here I was, gripped by the possibilities. Otto had attached the full study and contact information for someone he trusted in Tanoby.

“Xanadu is said to be paradise,” Otto’s note concluded. “A place where illness and sorrow cannot exist. Before you venture into the jungle, explore your alternatives.”

Tanoby was not far.

I wasted no time contacting my colleagues in the Sevii Islands, as well as Otto’s contact, and arranged to visit the Tanoby Ruins for myself. If a Pokémon exists that can transport us to a better reality, it remains unknown to us. Yet now, I find myself considering a possibility I had never dared to before—something beyond science, something, as my old colleague Sada would call it, fantastical.

I do wonder what she would say if she knew I dream not of Xanadu, but of Wonderland.

Well, it is for you, my Amber, that I dive headfirst into the rabbit hole, clinging to the hope that on the other side, a world without suffering awaits.

For you, I would cross the threshold.

And for you, I will find these elusive beings.

These... Unown.