Mycroft and his two companions traversed through the long, cavernous hallway that the 'Destiny' door had led them to, their steps echoing louder than they reasonably ought to, especially Caroline's high heels. The purple flames from the torches mixed with the greenish glow of Tangela's Flash, casting odd colors into the darkness before them.

"Could you tell your #114 to cut it out with his HM05?"

"…What?" asked Mycroft, furrowing his brow at Nancy.

"We'll be easier to localize if we carry an additional source of light with us, so–"

"Oh. My gosh! Look at this glowing thingy here that's connecting us!" Caroline seemed more concerned with the strands of light coming out of their chests. "Like, they even stretch when I get far away! This place has all the production value."

Nancy scoffed. "I've got somewhat of an idea as to what these threads might be," she said, lifting her glasses up. "We won't need to worry about them for now, at least."

As much as he was in disagreement with literally every single word that came out of Nancy's mouth –and that snobby, technical tone of hers certainly didn't help either– Mycroft decided to do as she said and return Stalker to his Pokeball, although he didn't praise her for the idea. As for these threads of light connecting them, how were they not to worry about it? How could Nancy be so cold and nonchalant even in a situation like this? He was starting to believe that Caroline was the most normal of the two, and that would've been bad enough, but…

Why on earth did that spoon pair me up with these two? he wondered. In what universe is my 'spirit' similar to theirs?

Regardless, whining wouldn't accomplish anything, so Mycroft simply shut his mouth and continued walking down this endless hallway. Just when he was starting to worry that it might go on forever, though, he saw in the distance as an opening appeared. The hallway opened up to a circular room mired in an unnatural darkness.

Should we…? Mycroft stopped just before entering, debating pulling Stalker out again, when Caroline walked right past him.

"Oh hey, look at that!"

Resigned, Mycroft and Nancy sighed and followed behind the energetic girl, finding themselves in a most unusual room.

"What… is this?" asked Mycroft, gawking up at the ceiling. "The architecture here is completely different."

Nancy nodded. "15th century, if I had to guess."

The circular room was empty, devoid of all doors or openings save the one they'd just emerged from. The walls and the rim around the ceiling were made of beautiful marble, and the roof rose upwards into the shape of a dome, painstakingly adorned with a painting that took Mycroft's breath away by its sheer level of detail. And yet, for how delighted his eyes were by that sight, he couldn't quite identify the shape or the theme of the painting itself.

By the time the two of them were able to look away from the ceiling, they realized that the opening they'd come in from had disappeared. Now the only thing around them were the walls and the ghastly candles illuminating the room with their purple flame.

"We totally lost the door somewhere," muttered Caroline, frowning. "But this place looks just like a dance floor, doesn't it?"

"This is a trap," declared Nancy, not a hint of worry in her voice. "It seems we'll need to find another way out of–"

She was cut off mid-sentence as a sudden, powerful voice rang not within the room, but inside their minds.

"Past… and future. Your destiny depends on both. Will you create a new path, or will you hearken to the one that has been set out for you?"

It was a low, feminine voice, smooth as silk. Hearing it immediately sent chills down Mycroft's spine, and before he knew it he'd touched backs with Nancy, both of them holding a Pokeball in their hand, ready to fight. However…

"Oh my god, who are those!? Look at those outfits!"

Caroline's reaction, though ill-suited, pointed Mycroft and Nancy in the right direction. They each turned in a different direction as three humanoid figures rose up from thin air simultaneously, each one facing one of the trainers.

"W-wh…"

Mycroft felt Nancy's back go tense against him, but he was barely paying attention to her, or to the whispers resounding behind him. The woman standing in front of him… she wore a long, dark tunic which darkened her features, but something about her pose and stature… it looked so familiar to him.

She took a step forward. Mycroft raised the Pokeball toward her.

"D-don't come any closer! I'll–!"

The woman spoke, her voice swallowing not only his feeble attempt at bravery, but also what little determination he'd been able to gather.

"What are you going to do, Mycroft?" the walls spoke with his sister's voice, drilling into his head, mocking. "Are you going to cry?"

Mycroft opened his mouth, but his throat had dried up in a flash and he was unable to muster even a single word. He was frozen. His sister's glare was like that of an Arbok; cold, sharp, paralyzing. This was no cheap trick, no simple illusion. No amount of power would be able to replicate her face, her expression her mannerisms so well.

"C-Clotty…"

"You're not even going to answer?" asked the ghastly woman, her lips stretching into a sharp smile. "Figures. What are you even good for, anyway? Mother thought you would at least be proficient enough with Pokemon to do this job, but it seems she was mistaken. Look at you, all scared and trembling like a wet Caterpie. And you thought you could become a powerful trainer? Don't make me laugh!"

A defiant growl rose from the depths of his stomach, and he took a defiant step forward. "Y-you're wrong! I am a proud member of the Sproutsbury family, and I'll–!"

"You'll what? Become… just like him?"

His sister's voice reverberated louder, deeper with every word she spoke until, when saying 'him', it turned into a different voice entirely. A deep, haughty one, not a single speck of warmth in it. It was a voice Mycroft recognized, a voice that made his blood run cold. Not only due to the man it reminded of.

But also because it was mixed with his own.

The mirage depicting his sister changed, morphed into another figure, taller and leaner, his posture proud and firm. A man in his early fifties, wearing an immaculate suit depicting not only the colors of his house, but its distinctive flower as well, adorning his lapel. At first, Mycroft froze in place. But no, that wasn't his father, as much as he resembled him. It was…

"M-me?" he muttered under his breath.

The older Mycroft looked down at him with eyes wholly devoid of care, of that elusive light that his family had so wholeheartedly tried to extinguish within him. The sharp features upon his face might have looked handsome were they accompanied by a smile, but there was none to be found. Every inch of him was sharp and cold.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

And the worst part was that he was not alone. A creature stood next to him. A member of one of the strongest, proudest species of Pokemon there was, here turned into a pale imitation of itself. Pale, thin, weak. A collar tied around his neck, marking him as property of the Sproutsbury family. A mindless attack dog instead of a loyal companion.

"L-Ludovic, no…"

The weakened Lucario tried in vain to raise his head and look up at this younger version of his master, but the older Mycroft quickly yanked on his chain, putting him back in his place.

"This is the destiny you've set course for," spoke the older Mycroft, not with the voice he'd expected, but with that of the woman they'd heard before in their minds. "This is what they would have you turn into. The kind of person you're trying so hard to become, just to earn their approval. Is this truly the path you wish to traverse?"

Mycroft shook his head vehemently, but no words came to his aid. He tried so hard to summon that fire, that trainer spirit that had gotten him this far, the one speck of warmth that had kept him safe during all those years inside that cold, desolate mansion, but it all felt gone.

"N-no, I'm not…"

His legs felt like jelly. Standing up was hard and his breathing was getting shallower. With every second, his strength vanished while the Mycroft in front of him became more and more corporeal.

"I w-would never…" He closed his eyes tight, clenching his teeth. "Please, I…"

A loud, obnoxious voice broke through the spell.

"Nah, this is amazing! Look at these holograms, like holy crap!"

It was only then that Mycroft returned to reality, realization dawning on him that he was still in a room with two people. Luckily for his pride, neither of them seemed to have noticed his terrified ramblings. Nancy was still behind her, frozen in shock like him, while Caroline…

Caroline had not only gotten rid of her own ghostly appearance, but she'd done the same to Nancy's and was now in front of his as well. The girl walked in front of the older Mycroft and put a hand through him, letting out an excited gasp.

"Look, like, it goes right through him!" she exclaimed like a little kid in an amusement park. "Hey Crofty, sorry to like, interrupt your trauma or whatever, but look! I'm making it go away!"

Indeed, just as she said, the apparition parted in two and began to dissolve into a black sand-like substance as soon as Caroline put her hand through it. Soon, there was nothing left of it except a pile of dust.

Mycroft and Nancy stared in awe at the girl's accomplishment, the former much more frazzled than the latter, although judging by the stiffness on her shoulders and the shaking of her lower lip, she hadn't gotten away unscathed from her personal encounter either.

"Caroline, you…"

But just as he was about to… what, thank her? Scold her for her recklessness? There was a loud, sharp whirring sound behind them and by the time they turned around an exit had opened up at the other side of the room.

The unknown woman's voice spoke into their minds again.

"Others may certainly play a part in twisting your destiny, but you should not rely on them exclusively to do so. Still, you pass."

Nancy cleared her throat and adjusted her glasses, looking away from them. "R-right. Well done, Caroline. Let's… get going."

"Y-yes, je suppose," muttered Mycroft, voice thin. "Lead the way."

The exit opened up to yet another long, dark corridor as they headed through it, nothing but the sound of their footsteps and Caroline's cheery voice breaking up the monotony. Yet this silence felt different than the last one. Heavier, more awkward, in a way. Both Nancy and Mycroft made sure to look away from each other, similarly fearing that the other might have witnessed their moment of weakness. That could be lethal when dealing with one's enemies.

Enemies… and yet…

And yet Caroline had rushed in to help him, to save him from that horrid apparition without a hint of doubt or consideration. True, she might not have realized what she was doing, but Mycroft had an inkling that even if she did, she would have done it anyway.

What was with Caroline? In a way she didn't seem very aware of the dangerous circumstances around her, and yet she'd crushed him during their previous Pokemon fight and she was clearly a powerful and talented trainer. Was she devoid of fear? Of worry? Did she think nothing of risking her own life? Why would someone like her sink so low as to join a mercenary team?

The more he rolled those thoughts away in his mind, the more he realized that what he felt toward her wasn't indignation at the fact that she refused to take things seriously, but envy. She had no trouble facing whatever troubles life threw at her. Yes, she might have been reckless, thoughtless and simple, but that spontaneity of hers was refreshingly… sincere. She clearly didn't care to keep secrets or be wary of them, nor did she try to hide her true self.

Caroline was unabashedly herself, and –even if he would've rather throw himself off a cliff than admit it– Mycroft felt bogged down by how much he wished he could be like her.

Maybe… maybe I can try.

And he would get his chance sooner than expected. Soon enough, the hallway opened up into yet another room, square-shaped and larger this time, lacking all the charm and grandiose architecture of the last one. The walls were made of roughly poured cement, black and rotting in some spots. In the middle of the room stood a rusty metal chair, balancing precariously in front of a massive hole which led down to an abyss of black water, its true depth impossible to perceive at first glance.

But that wasn't what caught Mycroft's attention first. Thick iron restraints could be seen on the arms and front legs of the chair, stained a dark red with rust and blood. And from behind, a series of thick chains rose up toward the ceiling, indicating that the chair could be made to suspend above the pit.

"Is that…?"

Nancy nodded. "Its appearance reminds me of some old-fashioned methods of torture, although the chains are a new addition. I wonder wh–"

Thankfully, Nancy didn't get to finish her morbid comment, because just then the woman's voice spoke to them again.

"You have faced your own destiny; now it is time for you to decide someone else's. Designate someone to take the fall. Then live with the consequence."

It was exactly as Mycroft had suspected. He and Nancy exchanged a quick look, which he regretted as soon as he saw the glint of an idea behind her eyes.

"Logically speaking, it makes the most sense for Caroline to sit on the chair," she explained. "She is the most expendable out of us three, and so–"

"No."

Nancy stopped mid-sentence, eyes growing wide. She looked back at Mycroft as though she didn't understand what she'd just heard. He figured Nancy wasn't used to being denied.

"We are not machines, mademoiselle Nancy. And while I agree that there is a place for logic, this is clearly not it, judging by the words from that disembodied voice," he said, trying to keep his tone impartial. "There's another way for us to decide."

And, diving into his pocket, Mycroft took out a small coin, silver on one side and gold on the other, and spun it deftly between his fingers.

"One of my family's relics, which I managed to bring with me," he explained. "Unfortunately there are three of us, and this coin only has two sides. Alors, Nancy, you seem the keenest and most logical of us. I'm not flattering you, nor do I wish to earn your favor or insult Caroline; I simply believe that you would not let yourself sit in that chair no matter what we say. So instead I will throw this coin up in the air, and if it lands on heads, I will offer myself. If it's tails, it will be Caroline, d'accord?"

Of course, Mycroft didn't wait for them to reply, or object like Nancy seemed about to. The coin flew through the air and both girls were forced to look up as it hung there for only an instant before coming back down and being snatched away by Mycroft's dexterous hand.

"Tres bien! It looks as though luck is on your side, mademoiselles!" He gave them a wide smile and showed them that the coin had landed on 'Heads', before snatching it back into his pocket. "So then, shall we proceed?"

Mycroft knew just how impulsive and foolish he was being, yet he'd done it almost unconsciously, without thinking. That image, that darker version of himself still hung in the back of his mind, calling to him, whispering for him to take a good look at it. Instead, he decided to stop thinking and just go with his gut, like Caroline would do.

He was not like his father, and he was not like Nancy. People and Pokemon weren't simply numbers and equations to him, and they would never become so no matter how many hardships he went through. And if that meant acting rashly and stupidly like Caroline did, then so be it. He owed it to her for saving him from that vision anyway, and the Sproutsbury always paid their debts. Besides, there was a small detail which made the coin he'd used special, a detail that neither of the girls had noticed.

Both sides were 'Heads'.

"Hm… I wouldn't say it was luck that made your plan fail just now," Nancy finally spoke. "You simply forgot to account for the air resistance and the force with which you tossed the coin up into the air. A rookie mistake. Regardless, I believe it would be less harmful to our numbers if we instead–"

"Oh my gosh, this is super comfortable!" Caroline said from afar.

Nancy scoffed. "Don't interrupt me. Like I was saying, we could use a Pokemon of similar weight and height to that of a human. The voice never specified wh–"

"Seriously, could either of you take a pic? Wait nono, let me fix my hair! Okay there!"

"Could you please let us talk in p…eace?"

Both Mycroft and Nancy froze in place at the sight behind them. While they were busy talking and planning, a bored Caroline had run off and was now sitting on the rusted chair, the restraints closed tightly around her wrists and ankles. She hummed along happily, not concerned with the fact that the chains had pulled her back to the point where she was now suspended above the pool of black water, and slowly, very slowly descending toward it.

"Oh…" whispered Nancy. "I suppose that simplifies things."