Novels2Search
The Dark Type Ranger (Pokémon) (Zoroark)
Chapter 4: The other side of the Glass

Chapter 4: The other side of the Glass

We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.

-Kurt Vonnegut, Mother Night

As I slowly awaken from my slumber, a sudden chill and dampness on my face causes me to let out a tired groan. Opening my bleary eyes, I see a view full of white and green.

Using careful, deliberate movements, sharp-clawed hands remove Kirlia from my forehead; he had wrapped himself around my head like a cat with separation anxiety. Warmth emanates from his body, contrasting with the chilly air surrounding us.

Becoming more conscious, an unexpected sight catches my eye- a damp patch on my pillowcases. Curiosity piqued, I lean in and take a cautious sniff, but there isn't any discernible scent. Sitting up, I feel something wet on my face, and upon closer inspection, I realize it's a thin layer of drool.

Shaking my head in disbelief I try to recall the fragments of my dream. It's like a fading lightbulb flickering in my mind, but eventually, a memory resurfaces - chasing an Abra in my dream. Without a second thought, I pick up my Kirlia under his armpits and extend my arms away from me.

"Damn it, Kirlia," I halfheartedly whisper yell at him, feeling a mixture of annoyance and affection for my psychic Partner.

"I'm going to have to buy some cologne or something to mask your scent. You smell too much like food to me. And you just had to wrap yourself around my head last night, didn't you!" I complain to the half-asleep Kirlia.

Drowsily, one eye blinks, followed by the other, before he yawns and falls asleep right there in my arms, his head lolling to one side. All of my mock anger disappears into mist on the wind. There really is no point in being angry at Kirlia. He couldn't have known any better, and with his refusal to sleep in his Pokeball, I should have predicted something like this would happen.

With a heavy sigh, I slowly swing my legs out from under the warm blankets. I can feel the tension in my back as I twist around and eventually manage to release a satisfying crack from my spine before finally standing up, still holding Kirlia in my arms.

After a brief moment of contemplation, I decide to let my companion sleep in and carefully wrap him up in the soft comforter like a little green-haired burrito.

As I look at the adorable sight before me, a smile forms on my lips. I gingerly remove the soiled covers from the pillows, being extra cautious with my unwieldy claws so as not to cause any damage to the soft fabrics.

Frustration builds up inside me at the slow pace I have to take, and in a moment of carelessness, an uncovered pillow slips from my grip and lands on Kirlia's head. I stifle a laugh, but instead of waking up, my companion hugs the pillow and turns away from me with a grumble. My laughter only makes him grumble louder, so I try to be as quiet as possible and not to annoy him further.

I then gathered all the pillow covers into my arms and threw them down the convenient laundry chute attached to my bathroom nook. I hoped that the cleaning crew would return the sheets to me by the end of the day.

As I approached my workstation, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. The sturdy wooden desk and the custom-built laptop on it were familiar and comforting. I glided effortlessly into the plain roller chair in front of it and pressed the power button, waiting patiently for the device to power on.

In the dark reflection before the screen booted up, I noticed the mess of my half-dried fur. I made a mental note to clean up after I finished journaling my morning thoughts. I couldn't help but chuckle at myself as I noticed how bedraggled I looked.

I seemed to have taken bedhead to a level hither since unimagined by the feeble minds of mankind.

Resting my head on one paw, I watched as the computer's Bios information appeared on the screen, illuminating the previously dark room. Upon bootup, I noticed that I had left an online 'lab readiness' training module open. I quickly closed the program, realizing that shutting the computer down hadn't automatically closed those programs out.

As I sit at the desktop computer, I can't help but notice how different it feels from the computers Dustin used to use. The keys are reinforced with steel, and they click softly under my claws as I type. I suspect that these computers also run custom software designed to prevent accidental data loss, which is why those programs didn't close when I shut the computer down last. But I don't let that distract me from my task. I open the digital journal program and begin typing down my thoughts.

I reflect on how my hunting instincts seem to be surfacing in my sleep, and I consider how I can mitigate the side effects in the future.

After meeting my daily journal quota, I switch over to my foxfire browser to check my messages. To my surprise, I see an invitation from Professor Oak to have breakfast in one of the main cafeterias on base. I eagerly accept the invitation, looking forward to catching up with the professor over a meal.

I've thus far managed to avoid large public spaces like the cafeterias, but I really did not want to decline this invitation from Oak. I owed him a lot already, and most of my aversion to places like the cafeteria stemmed from the fact that half of the people there didn't know what I was.

The higher-ups of the league have insisted that I create a human disguise to blend in with the facility staff. This has left me in a dilemma.

It's still bizarre to me that I, a literal man-eating monster, am allowed to walk amongst the staff without everyone knowing what I am. While I appreciate the opportunity to socialize, my illusionary abilities should pose some kind of security threat, right?

I want to be honest with those I interact with, but at the same time, the idea of pretending to be a human is exciting to me. The act of mimicry satisfies me on an instinctual level. However, sooner or later, I know my true identity will be revealed. Too many individuals in the ghost and dark-type sectors of the labs already know about me, so it's more a question of when, not if, it will happen.

So, for as long as I can manage it, I want to enjoy the pleasure of acting like a human and being treated like one.

After typing a quick affirmative response to Oak, I shut down the computer. Then, I pick up my xtransceiver and launch the music app. Scrolling through the artists, I settle on one of my favorite bands, ImagineDragonites, and get ready to clean myself up a bit.

The speakers in my bathroom weren't of great quality. However, I still enjoyed listening to music while taking showers. Before stepping into the stall, I placed the small wristwatch-like device that controlled the music onto the sink counter. Then, I turned the water on to full blast. As the hot water poured down, I began humming along to one of my favorite songs.

~If I told you what I was, would you turn your back on me? And if I seem dangerous, would you be scared?~

As I was singing in the shower, Kirlia suddenly appeared from behind the shower curtain. He seemed anxious, even though he could still hear me he didn't like me being out of sight for too long. So, I gently picked him up and held him in my arms under the shower.

Since he was already here, I decided to clean him up as well. Using my Pokémon shampoo, I lathered us both up while singing the next verse of the song. Kirlia tried to mimic me by humming along loudly.

~ I've turned into a monster, a monster, and it keeps getting stronger. ~

~ Can I clear my conscience? If I'm different from the rest. Do I have to run and hide?~

As the melody of the song gradually faded away, I decided to cut the shower short. With an unspoken command, I direct Kirlia to telekinetically grab us two towels from the closet next to the shower while I turn the water off with a twist of the dial on the wall.

Kirlia gets excited when I mention breakfast and starts skipping around the room like an eager dog that has heard the word "treat." While Kirlia is dancing, I put on a clean ranger uniform and stand in front of the mirror.

With deceptive ease, I manipulate my image into something resembling Dustin's old look. I meticulously adjust a few features, touching things up until everything is a bit more to my liking. Dustin's receding hairline had been slowly developing into a deep widow's peak, so I evened out the hairline and lightened up his dirty blonde hair into something almost bleach blonde.

Following Richards's advice, I added an illusionary cape and scarf around my neck and back to hide my mane and chest fluff. To further enhance my disguise, I add a deep-looking scar to my neck to give the impression that my inhumanly deep voice is due to a damaged voice box.

With my temporary security badge in hand, I cautiously open the door and am surprised when Kirlia teleports above my head and lands on the back of my neck. Holding still, I let him climb on me until he was essentially hugging my head with his legs thrown over my shoulders.

With an exasperated huff, I closed our door behind us and started walking down the hall toward the first security checkpoint.

After walking for about thirty seconds, we reached the checkpoint where a security officer was stationed. The officer was stationed behind shatterproof glass in an office-like space. The officer looked confused as I scanned my badge on the terminal connected to the pneumatic doors. However, he recognized me when my profile appeared on his computer screen and granted me access through the door after a brief hesitation. I smiled at him, and Kirlia waved as I passed.

After the security checkpoint, the hallway led to a room full of maglev elevators. Unlike traditional elevators that only go up and down, these elevators can travel horizontally as well as vertically, allowing travel from any one point of the facility to any other.

The research facility was spread out in nine directions, each with multiple floors, so this transit system was essential.

After scanning my badge at the maglev terminal, I selected cafeteria 2A, where Oak was located, and gave myself another quick once-over to make sure my illusion still looked good. As soon as the doors opened to our destination, I was greeted by a vast open food court surrounding a central seating area. The sheer number of people in the cafeteria made me realize that this facility housed far more people than I initially assumed.

Upon further reflection, I concluded that the ghost/dark sector of the facility was probably understaffed for obvious reasons. Those types of Pokémon were considered the most dangerous, and it took years of certification to safely handle them. It also takes a special kind of person to willingly risk one's life to advance mankind's knowledge like that.

Eyeing up the food stands ensconced along the perimeter of the food court, I decided on a place that had a bizarre combination of fried chicken and waffles. The waffles would suit Kirlia's sweet tooth, and the fried chicken smelled fantastic to me.

After collecting my food from the counter, I realized that I had forgotten to check where Oak was supposed to meet me. My hands were full, and it would have been difficult to search for emails on my xtransceiver. I paused for a moment outside the seating area, considering my next move.

I inhaled deeply, hoping to catch a whiff of familiar scent. The first scent trail led me to Robert, an Absol trainer that I had met a few weeks ago. I tried my best to ignore his scent and continued my search. After wandering around for another five minutes, I finally caught Oak's scent and spotted him sitting at a table off to the side, away from the crowd.

He held a half-eaten breakfast sandwich in one hand, and his other hand held a mechanical pencil that smoothly glided over an ancient-looking sketchbook. The intensity of his concentration had driven away other people in the room; they likely didn't want to disturb his concentration.

Despite feeling hesitant, I take a seat opposite him. I placed Kirlia in the unoccupied chair beside me, and Oak acknowledged our arrival with a quick glance. As he saw Kirlia, Oak smiled and shut his sketchbook with a quiet rustling of yellowed pages.

Shuffling my plates so that the waffles are stacked in front of Kirlia, I start shoveling chicken wings into my hungry maw without hesitation.

"Echo, I'm happy you accepted my invitation. I understand that being around so many people might make you feel uneasy, but I want you to know that I appreciate you stepping out of your comfort zone for me," Oak says, gesturing at the food court with his half-eaten sandwich.

After swallowing the half-chewed chicken wing in my mouth, I take a moment to respond. "Professor, I am grateful for everything you have done for me. It would not be fair to decline your invitation simply because of my... social anxiety," I say while looking around to make sure no one is eavesdropping on our conversation.

"Entirely understandable. I just wanted to talk with you for a bit before your first day of guard duty." Oak says while raising his hands in quotes for the 'guard duty' part.

"I find it highly probable that you will find yourself in the role of a Pokémon handler instead of being a guard for the researchers. However, I don't imagine you would be afraid of handling ghosts now, would you?" Oak says with a knowing smile, taking a big bite of his sandwich. I nearly chuckle at the idea and lift another chicken wing to my mouth before replying.

"As long as I eat before my shifts, I don't think there will be any issues."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, eating our food. I finished my wings in less than three minutes and watched as Kirlia levitated his waffles in front of him. He had an odd habit of taking one bite of each waffle at a time, rotating them in the air after each bite, almost like a revolver's ammo chamber.

After we finished eating, Oak motioned for me to follow him to the trash area where we placed our trays on top of the stands. We then walked around the food court aimlessly, with Kirlia following along.

As we walk, Oak greets a few well-wishers before we are finally left to our own devices.

"I generally don't share these kinds of uncertainties with others, but now that the league has hired you as insurance, I can't help but worry about their plans for studying the more dangerous ghosts that they have been keeping in long-term stasis. The ghost-type Pokémon in there can be extremely hazardous, even for dark types," said Oak in a casual tone.

"I understand the risks, sir. However, I would like to continue with the course that has already been set out for me," I responded kindly, touched by his concern for me.

Looking at me with a piercing gaze, Oak sighs and continues walking around the perimeter of the food court. Eventually, we reach the area designated for the maglevs and stop before their doors. Oak was a busy person, so it was understandable that we didn't get much time to talk.

"Thanks again for taking me up on the invite. I won't be here at this facility for much longer, and it was good to talk with you one last time before I return to Kanto. You have my email and I would be delighted to hear from you again when you have the time," Oak says, proffering his hand to me for a handshake.

I delicately grab his hand in my claws and find myself grasping onto a flash drive that Oak had somehow palmed without my noticing. When our hands separate from the shake, the drive is well hidden under the cloak of my illusions.

We part ways without another word, and when the maglev doors close in front of me, I look at the flash drive with distaste.

"Really. More spy bullshit? This better not be an invitation to some world-spanning shadow government or something because if it is, I'm going to flee back into the wild the first chance I get." I wine at Kirlia, who just stares at me blankly

"Okay, maybe I'd try finding an out-of-the-way village to live in first, but you get what I mean," I explain further to Kirlia as he stops paying attention to me altogether, probably picking up that I'm really just complaining to myself.

As I return to my room, I quickly ensure that my door is locked and that my computer is disconnected from the internet. With a deep breath, I proceeded to boot the flash drive in safe mode, determined to uncover whatever Oak wanted to tell me about. My eyes are fixed on the screen, scanning it diligently for any suspicious programs that could be lurking within, just in case.

I am relieved to find an official-looking audit log that contains Oak's findings regarding the Gengar incident. As I delve deeper into the log, I come across dozens of transcripts of interviews, all of which are significant in their own right. However, there is one interview that stands out, much longer and more detailed than the others.

From the context, I can infer that Oak is speaking to the individual who attempted to access the restricted Pokémon kept within the facility's servers during the Gengar incident.

My eyes widen in shock as I come across a heavily redacted page from the Pokédex of said Pokémon. Despite the redactions, I can make out enough to understand that it contains one of the most disturbing Pokémon entries I have ever encountered.

The entry describes an artificial Pokémon that was created hundreds of years ago by somehow collecting and trapping over a hundred human souls into a single object known as a keystone. This revelation unsettles me, and I can't help but wonder what other secrets are hidden within this facility.

Historical records suggest that this soul-capturing ritual was used as a form of punishment for criminal executions. However, the result of this practice was a mass of dark and ghost energies that became self-sustaining, almost like an ethereal nuclear fission reaction.

Like all human-derived ghost Pokémon, this creature had no memories of the lives that constituted its existence. Even though its origins were horrendously gruesome, the Pokémon itself was remarkably calm for a ghost type, which is why it was transferred to Champion Cynthia's care soon after the Gengar incident.

Professor Oak's files were both intriguing and informative, but what caught my attention most was the hint he provided on why the incident occurred in the first place. It turns out that the researcher attempting to access the restricted servers was being blackmailed by none other than Team Rocket.

This researcher had been tasked with retrieving a Pokémon code-named 'The Spirit Tomb' and transferring it to a private server located somewhere on the Undernet. The Gengar had been sent deliberately to act as a cover for this agent. Further investigations by Oak revealed that Team Rocket was actively seeking out Pokémon with verifiable human origins, such as Frostlass, Yanmask, and Phantump, and was investing substantial resources towards acquiring them for some reason.

It quickly became apparent why Professor Oak had shared this information with me. As the only known Pokémon with a debatably intact human soul within them, any research being conducted by Team Rocket regarding human-based Pokémon would likely target me as well.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Upon reflecting on my situation, I realized that Team Rocket might not be aware of my existence yet, or they might not be in a position to take any action against me. However, this realization shed light on at least one of the reasons why the league was insisting that I try going incognito for as long as possible.

It was disconcerting to think that even the esteemed researchers within the league were being heavily scrutinized for any ties to Team Rocket. This implied that Rocket influence had seeped into the highest levels of the Pokémon community, which was a disheartening thought.

Although this newfound information did not change my predicament, it certainly made me more vigilant about the people I would be collaborating with in the future. Moreover, I couldn't help but wonder about the other Pokémon that the league might be keeping under wraps. The mere existence of Pokémon like Spiritomb raised the question of what other species were deemed dangerous enough to necessitate my inclusion as an additional security measure.

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Shortly after Oak and Rowan left site 6, I completed all the necessary lab safety courses and read through the standard operating procedures for my new temporary job as a security consultant. Even Richard stopped by to congratulate me and give me some "advice" for the job.

He quoted a line from a kids' movie about ghosts being friends, not food - something I only half-remembered from Dustin's memory and was pretty sure was supposed to be about fish, not ghosts. I told him his joke was in terrible taste and kicked him out of my room with a smile and a shake of my head.

On my first day, Juniper emailed me with instructions for my assigned lab location and how to get there from my dorm room. I dressed up in my Ranger uniform and brought Kirlia with me in his Pokeball, and I headed to the lab in my human guise.

As I swiped the security keycard to gain access to the room, I was taken aback to find Juniper already inside, accompanied by three other individuals who were all clad in lab coats. The laboratory space before me felt eerily similar to my own high-security enclosure, but what struck me as odd was the adjacent room, typically reserved for housing Pokémon, now empty except for a bulky CRT TV. The room seemed to have been built around the outdated television set, devoid of any doors.

"Echo, it's great to see that you've arrived on time. Allow me to introduce Luna, Ontaro, and Devan. They are the core members of the ghost research division here at site 6, and you'll be collaborating with each of them closely in the coming weeks," Juniper announced as she proceeded to introduce each person by name.

I managed to respond in a somewhat rigid tone, "It's a pleasure to meet all of you. I am looking forward to working together."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Echo! We've heard some rumors about you, but we weren't sure what to believe until Juniper confirmed a few things for us," Luna the silver-haired woman says

"Ah, I see; my…condition isn't an issue with any of you, then?" I ask hesitantly

Ontaro, the man with bright orange hair, scoffs at my comment with a dismissive wave of his hand. As he approaches, he places a muscular arm around my shoulder, shattering my illusionary façade of humanity. He continues speaking without pause, "Pff, Echo, you have no idea the shit we've seen."

Devan, who had not spoken yet, sighed and ran his hand over his tired-looking eyes. He began to speak without looking at anyone in particular. "You don't even make the top ten list for the scariest things I've seen in this lab. You'll understand what I mean soon enough as Juniper here won't be starting you off with something small today."

"I apologize for springing this on you, Echo, but this project is of critical import to the league as a whole." Juniper explained. "It's the main reason I requested your temporary assignment to the security forces, in fact. I was hoping you could provide a fresh perspective on the case in addition to your ability to handle the subject directly. That is if you are willing?"

"I don't mind really. Just give me the details, and let's see what we are working with here."

During the next few minutes, I received a briefing on the test subject and the objectives set by the league. The creature in question is a Rotom, a unique electric/ghost hybrid that is particularly challenging to contain and study. Although the use of Pokeballs is theoretically possible, there is still a debate regarding whether the Pokémon can possess the Pokeball after being captured. As a result, the league has been hesitant to rely on them for long-term containment up until now.

Through careful experimentation, the league discovered that old CRT Televisions are the ideal environment to contain the Pokémon while also keeping it docile. Our current subject was discovered in an old mansion in Sinnoh and was transported to this research station inside the TV for further study.

Rotom had to be transported inter-regionally because of its unique phasing abilities granted by its hybrid ghost/electric type. Special insulation was required to contain it, which could only be obtained from the scales of the Dark/Ground type Krookodile line found natively here in the Unova region.

The TV itself isn't even allowed to be plugged into an electrical outlet; instead, it has to be powered via wireless EM transmission so that no direct electrical wiring can be used to bridge an escape route.

"Okay, wait, I'm a bit confused," I say while starting to read the threat assessment portion of the report. "The containment seems solid, but why is it classified as a grade 3 threat? Its case file doesn't even mention any injuries or fatalities associated with it."

Devan looks up from the static-filled television and begins to explain, "There are several reasons why this non-violent ghost is considered to be more dangerous than others. Firstly, it can move through electrical lines and take control of anything with an electrical motor."

Coming to a realization, I interrupt Devan to exclaim, "Wait, is that why it's called Rotom!? It's just Motor spelled backward? Who names these things?" I ask incredulously

Devan continues his speech with a hint of annoyance, avoiding eye contact. "Secondly, Rotom can sustain itself by feeding off electricity or the life force of psychics, which, as it happens, includes most of humanity, regardless of our proficiency in aura manipulation."

Before Devan could finish listing his points, Luna interjected with her own, "Third and most importantly, it reproduces through mitotic division, which means there is no incubation time for eggs to hatch. This makes it capable of explosive exponential growth given the right environmental factors."

While contemplating the unique biology of Rotom, I realized how dangerous its reproductive cycle could be. According to its description, Rotom needs an airtight vacuum and electrical current to reproduce, an environment like the inside of the old TV's Cathode Ray tubes. It's a good thing that this is the case, as such a specific reproductive necessity has thus far prevented mass outbreaks of these little electrical ghosts.

It's no surprise that the league has classified Rotom so high on the threat scale. However, I can't help but wonder if the threat rating is still a bit inflated, considering Rotom's nature seems to be inherently benign.

Although, if Rotom were to be accidentally released, containing it would be a major challenge. All net and electrical grid connections to any area with an infestation would serve as potential vectors for the creature to spread uncontrollably across the world. Moreover, any vehicle used to transport rangers to capture the Rotom would become a host device for the creature to possess and escape with.

"I see why the threat rating is so high now. So, what does the league want us to do with it?" I ask wearily.

Devan whispers his reply in a monotone voice, "The league wants us to mass produce it."

I look at him strangely, trying to figure out if he's joking or not, but find the other researchers deathly serious.

"Okaaay, if it's such a potentially dangerous species, why would the league want more of these things around?" I ask slowly.

With a fervent passion, Juniper elaborates on the benefits of having a Rotom, emphasizing the most compelling one. According to her, Rotoms possess the ability to 'digest' psychic energy and transform it into powerful electrical currents. This remarkable capability means that with a Rotom bonded to them, a human could potentially power a wide range of appliances and even low-powered vehicles.

What's more, the cost of using Rotom's as an energy source are relatively minimal, requiring only a bit of psychic energy that most humans cannot meaningfully access anyway. For the average person, their latent psychic energy is useless to them, but with a Rotom, that energy could be used to generate electricity. Juniper further supports her explanation by presenting some diagnostic pictures and opening a map of Galar.

"Regions like Galar that are facing huge energy crises are desperate for clean energy solutions, and Rotom's seem to be the golden gun we've been looking for. There would be no need to import vast quantities of solid fuels like coal or oil over dangerous open oceans because we can send Rotoms through the net. So long as we can properly domesticate the species and find a way to reliably instigate miotic division on demand, the league is confident in implementing Rotom-powered technologies within the next decade." Juniper energetically exclaims

"Holy shit, alright. I can see why the league wants this Pokémon so badly. It would be a game-changer for sure." I say, then take a few more minutes to properly re-read through the Rotoms profile.

"Okay, I see that you've managed to create two other Rotom so far, now housed at site three and site one… huh, it looks like you had success confirming the conditions needed to allow for miotic division, so what's stopping you from just continuing?" I ask, trying to make heads or tails of the complex electrical formulas attached to the Rotoms file.

"The problem is that recently whenever we try to bud off a new Rotom, the electrical charges that we inject into the enclosure have been just disappearing. Despite injecting a considerable amount of electricity, we haven't been able to create any new Rotom. We stopped further testing when our health and safety Contractor's Absol started refusing to enter this room anymore," explains Ontaro with a sigh.

"Okay, ya, that's never a good sign. I suppose the worst-case scenario would be that there are a large number of Rotom somehow hiding in the enclosure, right? I see from your scans that you can only detect one Rotom within the TV, and you've previously confirmed that more than one Rotom cannot possess the same device too. So, what does that leave?" I say, walking over to the Faraday caged enclosure window and gazing into the Rotom's room, trying to spot any hidden electrical ghosts.

The room was eerily bare as if it had been stripped of everything except for the flickering TV. The TV cast an ominous light on the otherwise dark room, making me feel uneasy. I wondered if I could find any clues if I went inside and took a closer look.

As I approached, I noticed an insulated passthrough that was wall-mounted in the corner of the observation window. It seemed like I could pass my Pokeball through it.

Juniper noticed me looking at her speculatively as I pulled out my Pokeball from the chain around my neck. Before I could say anything, she quickly typed in a request on her tablet to get some mareep wool from storage to be used as protective gear for me.

We quickly came up with a plan, and within a couple of hours, I found myself getting dressed to enter the Rotom enclosure. My heart thunders in my ears, and despite having no sweat glands, I feel the phantom desire to wipe the sweat away from my forehead, likely some kind of lingering human muscle memory from Dustin.

Taking my Pokeball off the magnetic chain around my neck, I hand it to Devan, who places it into the wall-mounted passthrough. The passthrough looks like a small glass box, and I am grateful that I am not claustrophobic. Otherwise, going back into my Pokeball and being pushed through this glorified mailbox would be more distressing than it already is.

After some fiddling, a timed recall function was set up on my Pokeball. I then wrapped myself up in the mareep wool insulation and prepared myself for the unpleasant experience of being shoved back into my Pokeball. As I waited, a beam of red energy inevitably struck me, and the world around me flickered and transformed into blue smokey fire again. The sensation was familiar now, so I felt more in control this time.

I allowed the feeling to wash over me as the research team remotely opened the other side of the passthrough facing the Rotom enclosure. As the passthrough door opened, I summoned my aura to push open my Pokeball and found myself standing inside the enclosure. The air was thick with the sweet, smokey scent of ghost-type aura, which was surprisingly pleasant. I couldn't help but take a deep breath and enjoy the aroma, even though I knew I had to maintain my composure in front of the researchers.

As I took a step towards the TV, I felt a sudden burst of electricity shoot out of the screen. The electricity zipped around the room wildly, creating a dazzling display of light and sound.

The Rotom moves with lightning speed, its small body banging against the insulated walls like a frantic hummingbird desperately trying to escape. Its quick, jerky motions awaken something primal within me, a predator instinct that reminds me of a cat chasing a laser pointer.

The Rotom's panicky attempts to find an exit paradoxically draw it closer to me. Suddenly, as it darts too close to my head, I instinctively snap my jaws around it. The electric discharge from the Rotom is like pop rock candy on my tongue, a mix of electricity and ghost energy that sends a shiver down my spine.

Although I have enough self-control not to hurt it, I still feel guilty as I drop the traumatized, disoriented, and drool-coated Rotom onto my open claw. Surprisingly, the little lightbulb-like Pokémon doesn't immediately run away. Instead, it stares at me with confusion, as if asking itself, 'How/why am I not dead right now?'

As I try to release the Rotom from my grasp, it jumps back onto my palm as if it expected my claws to be the only safe haven in the room. I look back at the researchers and find them all tensely watching my actions. The atmosphere is thick with tension, and I can feel their eyes judging my every move.

It's not a great look for me, considering I almost ate the lab specimen, but there isn't much I can do about it now. I'm just glad Richard wasn't here to see this. For the time being, I allow the Rotom to remain where it is and proceed to investigate its enclosure.

Upon approaching the walls, something strange occurs with the Rotom in my hand. I can feel its tiny body being repulsed from the walls, almost like similarly charged magnets. The sensation is both eerie and fascinating, and I can't help but feel a sense of wonder at this strange phenomenon.

There is no rhyme or reason to it, though. No specific spot seems to induce the effect, and the repulsive force seems to come and go at random intervals, leaving me both bewildered and intrigued.

As I inspected the walls, a nagging suspicion lingered at the back of my mind. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. I probed the walls with my sharp claws and discovered an air gap between two layers of the Krookodile insulation. The gap was relatively thick, and I estimated it to be around 3 to 5 inches. Such a space was ample enough to accommodate juvenile Rotom.

I shared my concerns with Juniper and requested her permission to make a small hole in the wall. I explained that there might be Rotom stuck inside the walls. Juniper provided me with a tube of insulation glue through the passthrough to fix any holes I created after my investigation.

With a quick jab of my free claw into the wall, my suspicion was confirmed. A small juvenile Rotom emerged from the hole and started zipping around the room. The Rotom in my hand seemed agitated by the newcomer, and I suspected that the main Rotom probably had found a way to dump its duplicates inside the walls somehow.

Did the Rotom realize it was receiving more food and electricity once it started dumping its offspring in the walls?

Regardless, my task now was to extract the remaining Rotom's without damaging the inner wall too much. It was a delicate operation, and I knew I had to be careful.

After a few minutes of debating what to do next, the researchers and I decided that I would make a second hole on the opposite side of the room and use low-powered dark pulses to flush the Rotoms out. We would then use lab-registered Pokeballs to collect the hoard.

The plan worked well, but we underestimated the number of Rotoms that had been produced. The Rotoms flooded into the enclosure like a swarm of bright, angry bees. Hundreds of little shocks peppered me on all sides, and if it weren't for my insulating clothes, I'd likely be paralyzed and helpless by now. The researchers began to panic as the swarm swirled and discharged thousands of volts into the area, roughly frying the old TV in the process.

As the swarm of Rotom attacks me with little electric shocks, I don't give in to panic. Instead, my anger grows exponentially with every bite of electricity that pierces through my body. My frustration reaches its peak, and I let out a menacing growl that echoes throughout the room. Suddenly, the space is flooded with an outpouring of liquid-like dark energy-infused illusion that engulfs everything in its path.

The power of my attack is so strong that the walls vibrate with its force, creating a ripple effect that reverberates throughout the room. The Rotom, once so confident and aggressive, are now immobilized midair in fear and pain. Their ethereal bodies sustaining damage only when they try to move in the dark energy-saturated air.

Panting with the effort of sustaining my immobilizing attack, I turn to face the stunned researchers.

"Well?! Start putting Pokeballs through the Passthrough already; I can't hold this forever!" I bark commandingly at them.

With a newfound sense of urgency, they frantically grabbed Pokeballs one after the other and shoved them through the passthrough until I had enough to capture all the suspended Rotom. Finally, I breathed a sigh of relief as I successfully caught them all. Turning to face the researchers, I flashed them a toothy grin.

"Well, that was quite an eventful first day on the job. What do you have for me next?"