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Redwood Ranch - Northern Unova Region (Several years before the Trainer Exam)

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The moon was full in the summer sky above the thirteen younger Redwoods who had, after learning the basics of how to approach and capture Pokémon all day, dashed out of the Redwood Lab, eager to find some. Geralt and Malina, being the oldest, were charged by the Professor to keep the littles in line, but despite the later hour, the Professor had a feeling about that night. The tingle of fate was in the air, and it was a good time to catch Pokémon. Once they had all departed, the old man lit his hand-held wooden Leaf pipe, took a long draw, and spoke aloud, seemingly to the darkness. "Soren." He exhaled his cloud of scented smoke reminiscent of a Stunky. "Watch them, would you?"

A low hoot answered the ancient human as two yellow eyes appeared in the darkness of the nearby tree that sat outside the lab. There wasn't much he wouldn't do for the old man, and keeping track of thirteen slow moving targets in the darkness was nothing to a Noctowl his age. The younger Redwoods soon found themselves in tears, and running to Malina for help, when what they wanted to catch took one look at them and ran. There was one, however, who had gone with his brother and his oldest cousin, to find something by one of the ponds near the back end of their property, at a pace the toddlers couldn't match. Though Eric Redwood constantly repeated that their dad wouldn't like this, he too eagerly clutched a Dive Ball. His brother had admired fire types almost solely because of Leon and Alain. Eric knew that water beat fire, thanks to the lesson earlier, and thus he had decided to catch a water type, before his brother even found a fire type. He was four and a half, but he already liked the 'vibe' as his Gruncle would call it, that water types had.

It was as they came upon the pond Eric had demanded Alex guide him to, or else he'd tell, that they saw they were not alone. They looked around for Geralt, only to realize the coolest and eldest teen of the group had vanished. Swimming in the pond were a pair of Poliwags, and before Alex could so much as take a step, Eric chucked the Pokéball in his hand as hard as he could at the relatively younger Poliwag with a triumphant cry that mimicked what he'd been taught by his Granduncle, "Yeet da ball!" The ball wiggled on the surface of the pond, once, twice, three times, before suddenly, it burst open in a flash of blue.

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The Poliwag that had almost been captured panted heavily in shock, but its sibling was furious, and launched several Bubbles at the pair of humans. Seeing his ball break had caused Eric to start wailing, but his brother knew how dangerous moves could be, and yanked his tiny sibling out of the path of the weak and slow-moving water attack. They dashed into the bushes shouting for Geralt, as the two Poliwags watched them go with angry eyes.

Geralt, for his part, had been busy. He had only agreed to help his ninety plus year old granduncle watch thirteen smaller humans because the alternative was actually showing up for his 'behavioral correction' night classes at the high school. Given that he was about to graduate, and start training to be a Ranger, he had stopped giving any Muks about his schoolwork, and had focused on training with a Pokémon Ranger's tools.

The most important tool, however, was at least one Pokémon on hand that was versatile enough to help the Ranger in question. Geralt had no intention of being the only Ranger trainee without a partner Pokémon, and his granduncle had given them free balls. He let his little cousins wander and play around the lake, as he didn't really care if they got muddy, and he knew Alex was a natural with everything that lived around here. His sharp eyes had instead noticed something else entirely. A flash of white in the darkness.

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What he found when he followed it, was an oddity. A wild Rockruff, sitting on a rock, chilling, as he stared at the moon. "Hey." Geralt said, as he drew out a Sitrus Berry. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you. Are you hungry? Do you want food?"

The initial shock and suspicion at seeing a human made the slightly lighter-than-normal colored male rock puppy jump in place and narrow his eyes in suspicion. At least, until he saw the human had food. His tail wagged slowly as he watched Geralt carefully approach and set down the berry. The Rockruff began to gnaw on the comparatively massive fruit, as he subtly looked the human over. His shoulder length hair was brown, and he was very obviously a human in the end spiral of adolescence, making him not much older than the Rockruff himself. His green eyes were fierce, his clothes were mostly leather, a jacket, Trainer gloves, and durable pants that gave away that he was from farmin' country.

"I'm Geralt." The eighteen-year-old said, in his somewhat awkward monotone. "Rockruff." The rock puppy answered, as he gnawed at the tough, but satisfyingly juicy fruit. Geralt waited for the amusing pupper to start chewing on a larger piece, before he spoke again. By the time the Rockruff finally got a piece large enough to nom in his mouth, Geralt's green eyes had shifted to the moon above them. "I don't suppose you know what a Pokémon Ranger is."

"Rock. Ruff?" The puppy answered, with a mouthful of fruit. "I thought not." Geralt said, pretending to understand the pupper. He kind of did understand more or less, mostly by tone. "A Pokémon Ranger is someone who puts the protection of Pokémon and the natural world first. They hunt down bad Humans, who treat Pokémon like tools, and usually try to conquer the planet. But they're not like most Trainers."

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The Rockruff paused in his biting, and asked, "Rockruff?" "Yes. Really." Geralt answered. "I'm about to head off to study and train to become a Ranger. I was hoping you would be the Pokémon I went with." He held up his Ultra Ball then, and the Rockruff stiffened, but slowly relaxed as the human didn't throw it. Moments passed as the two stared at each other, and the Rockruff's eyes widened as he slowly realized the human was asking to catch him. He looked down in confusion at his berry. Humans never asked, they just attacked, and threw. And he usually dodged, and ran.

The lighter toned Rockruff looked back at the human then, who was still holding up the ball. He didn't know why, but the simple fact that the human had asked made the Pokémon more malleable to being partnered. From his perspective, he'd found a rare human, and he knew how strong human-trained Pokémon could become. All Pokémon understood on an instinctual level what the strange bipedal apes could do for them, in terms of gaining strength. He yipped, and wagged his tail, but then looked meaningfully at his berry. "It's alright, you finish first."

Geralt placed the ball by the Rockruff's snout, and then proceeded to pet the pupper between the ears, which made his rock-filled tail wag more. Suddenly, the Rockruff paused as he finished his last berry bite and looked upwards. Then, Geralt heard it too. Two high pitched younger male voices shouting his name. "Muk." He said, as he stood up quickly. From behind him, he heard a ding, and he glanced around to see the Rockruff had entered the Ultra Ball. Nodding in immense satisfaction, Geralt grabbed it, and ran towards his cousins.

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As it turned out, the Poliwags had been watched as well, by a comparatively far more attentive Poliwhirl, who now used its superior muscles to run down the small humans. It fired several Hypnosis moves at them, but Alex had continued to dodge by zig zagging, and he dragged his tear-stained, snot-nosed brother behind him as he did. The Poliwhirl jumped in front of the two then, and it was at that moment, that Geralt appeared.

He slid to a stop as his black Ranger issue boots gripped the dirt and hurled his Ultra Ball at the Poliwhirl. It bounced off, getting its attention, and releasing his new Rockruff all at once. The Poliwhirl eyed the rock puppy, and then the human. The tense moment passed, as neither side attacked, and it began speaking, gesturing at Eric, and sounding very angry. Geralt nodded along, getting the gist that something the toddler had done had seriously angered the local Poli population.

"I'm sorry for whatever my cousin did, but as you can see...he's young." Geralt then noticed Eric's Dive Ball was missing. "How about we all...calm down, and have my cousin here apologize? You and your friends can all have some Berries, too." The Poliwhirl eyed Geralt, and his new partner, and then nodded slowly. "Rockruff, go find some Oran Berries. At least two." Geralt said as he approached the Poliwhirl with his last Sitrus berry. "Here you go...now, Alex, bring your brother. And on the way, explain what he did."

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As expected, at least one of the littles had completely ignored the Professor, and just 'yeeted' the ball at whatever they wanted. As they walked, Malina and the swarm of other little humans joined them. The Poliwhirl looked angrily at Geralt as more tiny humans arrived, but he shrugged, and then kept walking, unfazed. Seeing the small humans were more friendly and curious than overeager, the Poliwhirl eventually gave them pats, and seemed to calm down, before it followed Geralt and his two charges.

Malina had also had some success, as she'd found an adorable Eevee, offered her a berry, and then a ball. Only one of the littles had actually managed to catch something, and that was Aria, who'd enticed a very young Swablu with her singing. Malina had spent her co-opted evening babysitting for her dad while he smoked more Leaf trying to calm down the Altaria that hadn't wanted her baby to leave just yet. Eventually she'd calmed enough to listen, especially once the Swablu was let out of the ball, and Malina had explained that they lived a few yards away, and the Altaria was welcome to fly by any time.

As she relayed this to Geralt, and as he relayed his own Rockruff related experience, they reached the pond. One Poliwag dove underwater in fear, but the other locked eyes on Eric, and bubbles formed around his mouth. That is, until Poliwhirl appeared. After repeating its name half a dozen times, the Poliwag had come towards the human, and Eric offered a berry in each hand. The Poliwag had taken both, and then dove into the water.

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It was as they were about to start playing around the pond, that Geralt heard a hoot from above, and swore under his breath. One of the littles he hadn't noticed, Aria's youngest sister Emily, he was pretty sure, stared up at him with big, blue eyes, and repeated his obscenity with pure, undiluted joy. He quickly picked up the toddler and said, "No, nono, I said 'Poooo'!" Thankfully, the joy she got from repeating poo soon overwrote the other expletive, and Geralt whistled with his fingers to his lips. As agreed, everyone came and gathered by him at the sound. "Listen up. Our parents are coming." He minimized his ball and looked at Malina and Aria meaningfully. "If they ask, we caught Nothing. Understand?"

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Twenty Minutes Later - Redwood Ranch House

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"This is unacceptable, Gil. Letting them catch Pokémon? We have enough mouths to feed, and most of those are connected to five stomachs! How are you going to pay for their meals, Professor?"

Gilroy Redwood sighed heavily. Once more, his nephew Frederick was tearing him out, as one of the littles had almost immediately told their parents who had caught what Pokémon, and what they were all doing outside so late. Gil responded with the same sly sarcasm that he knew, on a fundamental level, pushed the uptight businessman's buttons. "It's a genetically unstable fox, a rock puppy, and a bird. The puppy won't even be around much longer. Geralt needed a partner, and it was long past time for the others to have a Pokémon too. You had one as well, Fred."

The wrinkled eyes of Alex's father closed in irritation, and then glared at the Professor. "And then I grew up! All you've done tonight is introduce my family to a world of heartbreak that I would rather not have them distracted by! You could've at least gotten them something long-lived. Like a turtle Pokémon. There's plenty of those. Birds and canines don't live forever."

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The Professor rolled his eyes. "Altaria are part Dragon Type and live for centuries. If anything, I've introduced a baby Swablu to a friend it will never forget, or likely get over. Have you heard how they learn Perish Song? Once their Trainers pass on, every single time without fail, it becomes a Move they can, and often will, use frequently. Eeveelutions last about as long as Humans once their base genetics stabilize, and don't worry about the Rockruff...that one is...special. I don't know how, or why, but it is. Geralt was meant to find it, I think. It was very far from the mountains."

Frederick waved a hand. "Yes yes, you're very well educated about Pokémon, and are half Psychic. Yet you still can't levitate the remote into your lap, can you old man?" The bitterness was obvious in his tone, and the Professor responded by sitting back in his chair, looking smug. The Professor's brother, and Frederick's father, had had a saying. 'Those who resort to insults in arguments have already lost them.'

Professor Gilroy Redwood had lost a few of such arguments with Fred that way, like when he didn't allow renovations to the lab to make room for his own family. He enjoyed the look on his nephew's face as he realized his error, and Frederick sighed. "Fine. Whatever. At least not all of them caught something, praise Arceus."

The Professor's victorious demeanor shifted to a hard expression. "Hasn't praising Arceus done enough damage to our family? Particularly to your first born."

Frederick met his gaze evenly as his eyes narrowed. "Get out."

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The Professor walked out of Fred's office, muttering several choice expletives under his breath involving Miltank rears, Tauros dung, and how they should apply to a man that denied his child a Pokémon in a society that adored them, and idolized Trainers. Surprising no one, Alex had been drawn to the vicarious victories that came from watching the meteoric rises of Champion level Trainers like Leon, and Alain. As Gil walked, he noticed Geralt, leaning all too-cool-for-skool style against the wall. "I take it that went as well as it always does."

Gilroy grumbled. "Same pile of Tauros Excrement, different decade."

"The decade isn't over yet, Gruncle." Geralt said, showing a rare expression of positivity. He was right, technically. They were two years in.

The Professor kept walking, down the stairs, and straight out of the house, where he brought out his Leaf pipe. "And by the end of this decade, your cousin will still be Pokéless, and I will have failed him."

Geralt arched a white eyebrow. "You haven't failed him. He adores you, and what you teach him. You're third on his list of awesome Trainers."

Gilroy nodded, expectantly. "The top two being Leon and Ash, of course."

"Of course." Geralt said, smirking.

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"Is there something you want, lad?" The Professor said, side eyeing the teenager.

Geralt nodded. "I need a Styler."

The Professor nodded, and chuckled. "I hoped you'd forget about that promise...very well. I did say you'd need a Pokémon first, and now you've got one. Come along."

Gilroy led his grandnephew into his Lab, and puttered through the perpetual mess it had been ever since every female influence that wasn't his daughter, had stopped working in it. The Professor plodded along the walls of inventions and projects, most half-finished, or covered in rust, meaning they'd never be finished. He paused, at an open book, and an illustration of a black dragon type that was really just a vaguely drawn blob, against a thundering sky.

After a moment, he looked Geralt's way, and stood straighter. "Right, Geralt, ermehem...what was I doing?"

"Styler." He replied in his usual monotone.

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The Professor snapped his wrinkled fingers and nodded. "Right, right. I did make a new variation, though I wouldn't exactly call it original. An old friend, Professor Hastings, helped me with the design. He said I was crazy, that it wouldn't have enough power." He opened a drawer then, closed it, then turned the handle on a completely different drawer vertically, and opened that. He reached in and pulled out something that actually surprised Geralt.

It was like a Fine Styler, fit to go on a Ranger's arm, but this one's 'launcher' was shaped like a wolf's head. It was mahogany brown with a reddish tinge, and Geralt held it like a newborn as the Professor gave it to him. "You should have seen his face when I shoved a Rotom inside of it!" Geralt's cliff-like visage broke into a smirk as the old man chuckled. "Brilliant and original, I know, but this way, I didn't need to cannibalize one of my Beyblades to make it work. Yours will shoot a tiny ball of plasma, and with some direction from you, that plasma will encircle and bind whatever Pokémon you need, for as long as your Rotom has energy. It's not very high level though, so…"

The Professor fished through his pockets, and then brought out a small square chip device. "This is essentially a modified, Styler-compatible Exp. Share, that will share the experience it gives among your whole team. Taming them will also give experience, so you don't need to rely solely on your Battle skills to train. You're going to thank me for that someday, Mr. Rock Typed Starter."

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Geralt took the Wolf Styler, as he'd mentally dubbed it, and slid it on his arm. A pair of eyes opened where the wolf's were, carved into the device. "Hello there." Geralt said, smirking. "You need a name, don't you...how about...Fangst?" The Rotom in the Wolf Styler nodded, by moving his arm up and down, for him. Geralt blinked, and then looked back to his crazy relative. "I won't forget this. Thanks. I need to head out now...it's a long way to the Ranger Academy, and I need to practice."

"You're welcome, lad." The crotchety old Professor said, as he gave a lazy wave, and watched his grandnephew leave. "Stay in touch, eh?"

Geralt turned his head, nodded, and then exited the lab.

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International Ranger Academy - Somewhere East of Route 20, Kalos Region

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Geralt Redwood had traveled the length of Unova before reaching the borough of Castelia, and the Inter Regional Airport. His Rockruff, since named Ghost for his lighter coloring and his impressive use of Quick Attack, had grown rapidly once the would-be Ranger began traveling, and using his Wolf Styler to help the people he met along the way. Everything from random rockslides to an actual kidnapping of a farmer's grateful daughter, he had stopped by using his Rockruff, and when that wasn't enough, other Pokémon who happened to be nearby.

He'd studied many techniques with books borrowed from his granduncle, particularly of the Walker family, and their method of calling for the aid of Pokémon in the States. They'd had a family member in the Top Ranger class for decades, and that had continued after the Ranger Union's merge with Interpol.

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Geralt tried battling Trainers on the road, but soon learned very quickly that there was a specific kind of Trainer he was good against, while others he was easily beaten by, thanks to the rock type's weaknesses. Ghost overcame his inherent disadvantage a few times but given that he was still young and comparatively untrained, he lost more than he won. Except against Bird Keepers. Those, he had no trouble beating, despite the aerial advantage flying types had. Fangst had also grown in level, and acted as a kind of PokéDex, when it wasn't sleeping. If he controlled a Pokémon that the Professor hadn't archived the data for yet, his Wolf Styler added it to the archive anyways.

Once he arrived in Kalos, Agents of the hybridized Interpol and Ranger Union guided him to a helicopter, which brought him east, deep into the woods, where he noted a surplus of wild Pokémon, surrounding a massive, modern building that had a combined symbol of the Ranger Union atop the IP's golden Pokéball outline adorning the building's front. On the top of the structure was a garden, he assumed, since the roof was obscured by leaves from what looked to be several trees.

Geralt was brought into a room with roughly twenty other people that he soon realized were also Ranger hopefuls. They eyed him longer than most, thanks to his youthful looks and pure white hair. They didn't stare for long though. One of the Agents that Geralt noted worked more for the IP side of the organization than the Ranger Union guided them into an auditorium, and once they were seated, the lights went out, and were focused on the stage.

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Geralt knew their speaker immediately, for while age had wrinkled her face, the Flying Ranger had been among the Top Rangers of the world for decades longer than anyone else. "Welcome, new Student Rangers! I'm the Flying Ranger, Wendy. Today, we're going to be giving you uniforms and Training Stylers, as well as a roommate who will share a bunk with you. Tomorrow, your training will begin! When I call your name, come on up and get your things."

Geralt watched quietly as each of the other Ranger Students approached the Top Ranger, and when his name was called, he did the same. If anyone recognized the Redwood name, he didn't hear them murmur about it. When Wendy offered him a Training Styler, he held up his own, and that, got the other students murmuring. "I already have a Wolf Styler. My granduncle is a Professor."

Wendy's brows furrowed, and Geralt quickly inferred that she did not like when people went off script. "That's...not regulation…"

Geralt shrugged, as he took the clothes, leaving her holding the green newbie Styler. "He worked with Professor Hastings on the design and shoved a Rotom inside to compensate for the amount of power needed. Not all of the functions are unlocked yet...but they will be, once Fangst is high enough level."

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Wendy, clearly not knowing what to do, looked off-stage. At that point, one of her handlers joined them in the spotlight. He was an older man, brown hair on his top, while the sides and lower back part of his hair had turned silver. He was in a long dark brown trench coat, underneath which he was clad in a suit, the same dark brown shade as his coat.

He smirked at Geralt and put a reaffirming hand on Wendy's shoulder as he spoke. "Seems like we've got an overachiever in you, Mr. Redwood. We'll need to have our Lab take a look at this...but it seems Professor Redwood did a fine job. And using a Rotom...not exactly original as ideas go, but one that we never thought to try!" He chuckled, and then offered Geralt a hand. "You can call me Looker. I used to be an Agent in the field, but since the merge, I've been keeping track of useful Trainers and helping with new Rangers."

Geralt shook the man's hand, nodded awkwardly, and then returned to his seat. Looker continued, the moment his rear touched the chair. "I am the one who will ultimately decide if you are International Ranger material! Remember, your goal is to protect nature, and Pokémon alike. From poachers, from evil gangs, from the kinds of threats you can only imagine, and will likely have to experience to believe. The life of a Ranger these days is not guaranteed to be a long one, but the good you do for our planet will not go unappreciated! Your dorm assignments are in the main hall, outside. Good luck, Rangers. You'll need it."

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Geralt followed the others outside to the room assignments, and as he did, he smelled trouble. He figured his Wolf Styler would garner attention. He'd hoped it would be the fun kind, but the fellow student who approached him first had a manner he could only describe as 'snake-like'. He was bald with thin black eyebrows, and his ears were pierced a truly obnoxious number of times, all with different earrings and studs, and no two were alike. Some even seemed to be made for women, but Geralt didn't judge. He was clad in dark purple clothes and had already replaced his jacket with the Ranger Student one, which was a forest green. "Thatsss quite a Styler you have there...Geralt, was it?"

Geralt nodded once, and the man with viper-like eyes continued. He didn't know why exactly, but the hairs on his neck straightened with foreboding. There was something off about this man, but Geralt didn't care to pry. He was here to advance to an Area Ranger as fast as possible. "I've never heard of a...Professssor Redwood...I'll have to have a look on the Pokénet…"

Geralt immediately got the sense that this man, for he seemed several years older than Geralt himself, already knew what he'd find in regard to his relative. Geralt just smirked and met his gaze evenly. "Don't believe everything you read on the Pokénet."

The viper-man arched a thin black eyebrow. "What, do you have a... problem...with factsss, Geralt?" He said, shrugging as he spoke.

Geralt's eyes narrowed, and he raised his tone slightly, as this snake-man subtly insulted one of his more tolerable family members. "You would be amazed at how easily idiots are led astray by what they believe are facts. Good thing our generation was taught how to cite our sources and verify trustworthy information. So we can account for a biased take on such 'facts'." He said, employing actual air quotes. "We wouldn't want our judgement impeded by, say, the bias of a Cult, now, would we? That's how you end up being fleeced like a Wooloo. A fool and his Pokédollar are soon parted."

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The long black-haired viper-man sneered, chuckled, and then walked off to find his assigned room. Geralt exhaled and watched his back as he left. Something definitely smelled off about that guy, but he resolved to let the other people here deal with their own issues. He found his own way to the room assignment list and arched a brow at his roommates. Apparently, each room had two bunks, which meant he'd have three other people to deal with, not one. Wonderful.

His bunkmate was a man who went by Greif, and thankfully, he was nothing like the snake in human form he'd encountered in the main hall. Greif was blessed by genetics with a mesomorphic body structure, and the muscles to go with it. He was several years older than Geralt, who was quickly finding he was one of the youngest Ranger hopefuls here. Their roommates were Eskel, a decent enough fellow with blunt features, a blunt attitude, and brown hair, and a lithe sandy blonde man with brown eyes shaped like a cat's, who called himself Levhart.

They were decent enough, as roommates went, but the real excitement came when Levhart noted that Geralt had a Pokémon with him. He brought out Ghost, and gave him some chow, and despite the catlike manner of Levhart, he gave the rock puppy just as many pets as everyone else, and Ghost didn't seem to dislike him, or any of the others. Levhart revealed that he had a partner as well, and surprising almost no one, he brought out a Liepard. Rather than snarling at Ghost, the two had sniffed each other, and then the friendly Rockruff had offered him some of his food, and the dark panther purred, finding no issue in sharing. Eskel didn't have a partner yet, and seemed to sulk when Greif revealed he also had a partner but refrained from taking it out in such a small room. He also refused to divulge what it was, as he found his new roommate's interest amusing, and wanted it to be a surprise.

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The next day, after working out who would shower in what order in their shared and tiny bathroom, Geralt's roommates found they were one of the first groups to appear ready to train. The others were all women, and after some bold and friendly reconnaissance from Greif, they learned that the ladies had woken up at the crack of dawn. Geralt eyed them and didn't find one among them that wasn't suitable for his admittedly low standards when it came to women. He'd found that each of them was unique, and thus deserved his whole attention and appreciation, if things turned romantic. Geralt had no intention of starting anything here, though. Romancing coworkers didn't always end well.

A new face greeted them, as they gathered outside the International Ranger Force building. He was dressed like a man straight from Unova's military, clad in camouflaged clothing that was baggy enough to allow a wide range of movement, like most Ranger clothing. Geralt had also adopted the green clothes of the Ranger students, and found them breathable, roomy, and durable.

Their instructor's hair was in a military cut and was seemingly brown or black. His features were intense, and from under his square, black glasses he looked over each of them, as he silently strode down the line. When he reached the end, he half-sighed half-growled. "We have stragglers."

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Geralt was amused to see the snake-man and what he assumed were his roommates, all hastily dressed and cleaned. Evidently, they hadn't figured out a system for who showered first. His own roommates had opted to send the quickest first, and Geralt had gone second. Being the largest with the most area to scrub, Greif had gone last.

"Trainees are expected to be presentable and in formation by this time every day, Mister Echis! (Ekk-iss)" Their instructor began, shouting, as was typical with Unovan military types, right in the face of the snake-eyed man. Their instructor stepped back then and began dutifully pacing along their line. "I am your commanding officer. Agent Kriger (Kree-gurr). But you Noobs will call me Sir. Some of you may be under the impression that you are already Rangers in training. You are Not! Until I say otherwise, you are green footed, wet-behind-the-ears, Nooblets! You will not speak, unless I speak to you! You are not dismissed for the day, until I say you are! Am I understood!?"

Greif and Geralt replied loudest with "Yes sir!" While the rest of the line seemed to mumble, unsure. The females in particular did not seem thrilled with Kriger. Kriger gave Geralt and Greif a slight nod, and then turned his harsh eyes to the rest of the line. "I ASKED IF YOU UNDERSTOOD!"

That, got a much louder 'Yes sir!' from the rest of the line, at which point, Kriger continued. "Before we begin today, I want to see what you Noobs have on your belts. I was told not all of you have figured out how to catch a Pokémon apparently. So those of you who lack balls may proceed over to the Flying Ranger. Wendy will show you how it's done." When the people lacking Pokémon were slow to move, the vein on Kriger's forehead throbbed and he shouted, "Move it! Move it! Move it!" And then muttered under his breath about having to waste half a day on getting Pokémon for mostly grown adults.

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Geralt gave Eskel a sympathetic look, and then snapped his eyes forward again, as Kriger came up to him, upon seeing Geralt's eyes move anywhere but forward. "I know you. The Nooblet with a Professor for an uncle. I heard his connections are what got you here. It sure as Hell wasn't your grades."

Geralt shrugged his shoulders slightly vertically from his best attempt at 'standing at attention'. "The Professor always told me, that school was for idiots. I decided to use my time studying Top Rangers and their techniques, Sir!"

Kriger seemed to nod, "Well, at least you had enough sense to prepare. We'll see how that works out for you, Nooblet." Kriger sighed, and then saw Geralt's wrist as his eyes drifted over the Nooblet before him. "What in the name of almighty Arceus is on your wrist?"

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Geralt held up the Wolf Styler for his inspection, and noted every single other Ranger trainee was also watching. He resisted smirking. His Gruncle was likely going to start a trend. Kriger eyed the wolf-headed Styler, and then jumped back, as Fangst manifested his eyes, and winked one at the extremely well muscled and shredded Agent. This close, it was easy to see the man exercised constantly.

"Boy...is that a Rotom in your Styler?" Kriger said, getting right in Geralt's face.

"Sir, yes it is, sir! My Granduncle made the Styler, and the Rotom powers it. Sir." Geralt met the man's glasses-covered gaze evenly, and while one might expect irrational anger from this type of instructor, the stereotype was proven false. Kriger seemed reasonable, rational, the kind of man who demanded excellence, but wasn't deranged enough to break the students under him mentally, emotionally, and physically just to get a blank tablet to mold. Geralt was glad he was the instructor for his class. That was exactly the kind of person he'd wanted, as he intended to excel in every possible way, and this kind of instructor would promote him for that. Ghost was similarly motivated, especially once Geralt had gone into details about the Rangers, and how important they were to a planet ruled by greed and inundated with Pokémon.

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Kriger looked Geralt up and down again, and then shook his head. "Well...that's just crazy enough to work, actually. You said you were a Redwood, right? Like the ranch milk they sell in Pokémarkets? I've never heard of a Professor Redwood."

Geralt nodded. "He specialized in chasing down mythical Pokémon even more based in conspiracy and rumor than Mew or Celebi, sir. He was never very famous, but he can be clever. Sir."

Kriger eyed the Wolf Styler again, and then nodded. "We'll see. Alright then. Show us your balls, Redwood. I was told you actually have a pair."

"Well, Fangst doesn't really like coming out of the Styler...but I do have Ghost." He tossed the recolored Ultra Ball, that was now essentially just a Premier Ball with a black outline, and Ghost appeared. Geralt heard several chuckles, as the Rockruff with lighter coloring than perhaps was normal appeared, and stared up at Kriger, unfazed.

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Kriger's glasses-covered eyes rose slowly, menacingly, towards the arrogant Nooblets that dared to chuckle while he inspected a Trainee's balls. The jokers wisely straightened to attention, mimicking Grief and Geralt, and Kriger looked back at the Rockruff. He crouched down to Ghost's level, and the rock puppy blinked at him, nose twitching as its hypersensitivity told the Pokémon all he'd ever need to know about the human before him. His tail started to wag, and Kriger's stoney demeanor cracked, with a smirk. He gave the Rockruff scritches on his rocky neck collar, and then stood. The smirk was already gone. "You have a good partner, Nooblet. But you both have a long way to go. You'll have to work to catch up almost as hard as the Ball-less Nooblets over there." He said, jerking a thumb towards Wendy, and her group.

Geralt met the man's gaze intensely, and nodded. "I intend to, sir!"

Kriger chuckled softly, and mostly to himself, before turning to the rest of the line. "Now that is motivation, people! You there, Nooblet Grief! I heard you only have half a pair! Let's see what you've got."

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Grief smirked. "One ball is all I need to get the job done, sir!" He brought out a strangely styled ball then, and Geralt's brow furrowed. It was kind of a common practice to match a Pokémon's ball to their pattern, but this pattern had him stumped. It was a Luxury Ball, that much he knew, but it was a light golden color on the top, still black on the bottom half of the ball, with hints of red, tawny, purple, and green ringing the ball's top and lower half.

In a flash of golden light, it appeared, sparkling as it roared. Geralt stared in disbelief at the Shiny Silvally, as did Ghost and even Kriger. Most serious Trainers knew of Gladion and the Aether Foundation's Pokéstein project gone right. Geralt had been a fan of his style when Gladion had made it rather far in the World Tournament. He'd seen a Silvally, but this one seemed quite different. The tail was more reminiscent of a Pyroar's, and a massive pair of light golden wings were folded against the Pokémon's back, the same color as its head, though the tips were white, and would presumably change color as well.

Kriger stared at Grief, and then lowered his glasses, revealing calculating blue eyes beneath them, as he met the Silvally's gaze. The others all murmured now, and Geralt couldn't blame them. A Shiny Silvally was unheard of, as the RKS system designers at the Aether Corp. had been sued, heavily, by the Fornian government for daring to try to create or replace the Alpha Pokémon with a cheap knockoff. Ultimately, it had actually been Gladion who testified to the legitimacy of Silvally as a Pokémon, and therefore worthy of the basic rights the Earth had agreed to give them, in this modern era. No more were supposed to have been made, and as Geralt guessed at its strength, he figured it was either a prototype, or an upgrade from the few Silvally that had been seen across the world.

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Kriger went down the rest of the line then, though nobody could upstage a golden, winged, Silvally. Echis revealed what he called a Muertan Arbok, a regional variant from Selva Muerta and the Dark Continent that had grown to a massive size of twenty feet in length. Its pattern was a disturbing depiction of a grinning human skull in black, yellow, red, and orange. Kriger frowned, as it hissed and made to bite at him. Echis's roommate, a bear of a man called Bjorn, brought out a fully grown male Ursaring that was taller, and shaggier than most, marking it as being from the Mediterra mountain range.

Geralt heard Ghost growl, and glanced down, before he noticed that the Ursaring had locked eyes on the Rockruff with an expression that suggested rage. Wondering how many of his fellow 'Noobs' could barely control their partners, he calmed Ghost with a few pets, and then stood rapidly, before Kriger noticed.

Once everyone's balls had been emptied, Kriger moved back to pacing before them, and their partners. "Today, we're going to introduce you Noobs to something I like to call The Killer. Everyone else just calls it the Trail but...The Killer is more accurate." The Agent said, giving a rare grin to the fresh crop of Nooblets. "Both you and your partners will run this course together. You will need your Stylers to advance. You will run this course every day, until you can complete it within the allotted time. Then, you will run it until you can break an average Ranger's time. As you may or may not be aware, we've been inundated with requests to join since our merge with Interpol. We are not lacking for bodies anymore, and the decision has been made to accept only the best."

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Kriger proceeded to outline the trail then, for by that point Wendy had returned with the others, and a map. Geralt was selected as one of the people to help the Pokéless candidates catch something, and thus, he and Eskel were paired, and sent to one of the mountains on the western edge of the Mediterra Mountain Range. The Killer began several miles away from their home building, and the trail itself went across two massive mountains, similar to the one Geralt and Eskel went to, to find a suitable Pokémon.

Their search took them most of the day, but finally, Ghost smelled something, and led them to another Rockruff. The two sniffed each other's butts, as Geralt and Eskel watched with amusement. "What do you think?" Geralt said, gesturing. "Do you want a Rockruff? They're pretty useful, and our time is almost up. I'm amazed we didn't find anything else up here." He looked around again at the view from the slope, and got a good look at most of Kalos. He could even make out Lumiose Tower in the far, far distance.

"A Rockruff is good enough for me. Lycanroc are pretty strong, right?" Geralt nodded, and Eskel brought out his ball. "I guess I throw it now...oh, wait, Geralt, have Ghost attack it first."

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Hearing this, Ghost turned and snorted at Eskel, who blinked, and looked at the still-bemused Geralt. "Maybe you should try what I did, and just ask if it wants to come with you. Give it this." He brought out a Sitrus berry then, and handed it to Eskel. Both Rockruff wagged their tails, and Ghost's slowed and went limp as Eskel greeted, and then treated the wild Rockruff to some food.

The lighter colored Rockruff came back to Geralt, and whined, and Geralt chuckled, before tossing him an Oran berry. Ghost returned to his new friend's side then, and the two nommed, as Eskel made his best attempt at convincing the pupper to come along. Ghost also helped, and Geralt walked over as well, giving him pets and scritches as the two rock puppers ate their berries. Seeing how strong Ghost was, and how kind comparatively the humans appeared to be, the wild Rockruff yipped, once it was done, and entered Eskel's ball. It dinged shut, and the two humans sighed in relief.

"Maybe now, Kriger won't kill us for taking so long." Eskel said, sounding hopeful.

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Several Weeks Later…

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Kriger had, infact, decided that the two Nooblets had taken their sweet time on purpose, and after only coming back with one Rockruff, a pretty young one no less, he had made Geralt and Eskel run The Killer until the next morning. He almost made them do a new day of training as well, but Wendy reminded him that the Rangers had rules, and the pair had earned an eight hour rest.

In eight hours exactly, to the minute, one of Kriger's Agents had come to get them, only to find the two men were dressed already, recovered, and their partners were fed. They joined the rest of the group on The Killer, and because of their 'tardiness' Kriger had the entire class run the course longer, until Geralt and Eskel also had at least sixteen hours of exercise. From then on at least, they were caught up, and each day they found that they could do more and more of the obstacles without needing to rely on their Stylers.

The Pokémon that inhabited The Killer tended to be too strong for a School Styler, or even Geralt's Wolf Styler, most of the time. When he did manage to tame something, like a flying type, he used it to ferry over the rest of the group as well. The ones that were able to keep up with the head of the pack, at least.

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Those who fell behind usually arrived just as Fangst ran out of energy, and the wild Pokémon became wild again. Geralt always thanked them for their aid, but after that, they usually took off quickly, to avoid the other Ranger hopefuls. Within the first two weeks, several candidates had washed out, and left for Kalos on their own power. Geralt's roommates, and the majority of the females in the class, tended to stick together and made a pretty effective team as they did.

Echis, Bjorn, their roommates, and less of the girls made up the other 'team' and while they were slower, their methods of traversal usually left lasting paths through The Killer that they hid for themselves, and used later. Eskel had named his Rockruff Varg, and both he and Ghost grew stronger, and bigger, as the weeks went by. Varg even evolved one night, howling wildly at the moon as he did, and became a Midnight Lycanroc. He and Eskel practiced sparring then, and though evolution gave Varg an advantage, Ghost managed to make most of their battles a draw by relying on his speed. He never had enough power to beat the fully evolved Lycanroc though.

Ghost also evolved, eventually.

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It was as Geralt and Ghost were doing some extra time on The Killer that he came across the first hint of his greater destiny. She appeared, in the form of a twelve year old girl, lost, running, and clearly in trouble. Ghost had actually been the one to lead Geralt to her, by suddenly dashing off the trail between obstacles into the brush, and the first thing Geralt noted about the twelve year old was that her hair was as white as snow. She stumbled and rolled into the brush as Ghost came upon her, and yipped. She groaned, finding a hand in her field of vision, as Geralt offered to help her up. "Hello there…" He said, giving his best attempt at a smile as she cautiously took the offered hand, after glancing at the symbol on his uniform. "I'm Geralt, a Ranger Student. Are you lost, kid? You shouldn't be on these mountains alone."

"My name is Ciri," She started, sounding every bit as petulant as Geralt recalled twelve year olds being, "I'm not lost...just...turned around...some weird old guy with pink hair and a lab coat tried to capture me. He appeared out of a weird pink portal, and then said he had to kill me! I haven't been able to find my friend since I ran away."

Geralt nodded, and a smirk broke his expression as Ghost nuzzled the girl, and she gave him scritches in return. "Who is this friend of yours?"

Ciri looked the Ranger over again, and a small smile broke through the fear and adrenaline as Ghost demanded belly rubs, and twitched his leg as soon as her hands made contact. "She goes by Triss. She was taking me somewhere that...could teach me. I'm...psychic, or something. Apparently."

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Geralt arched his brow, "Seriously? That's...pretty cool. Can you...move things with your brain?"

Ciri chuckled. "No...Triss said I have a lot of potential, but I don't know...studying seems boring. What are you doing out here anyways, and why are you so sweaty?"

Geralt gave the small child a confident smirk. "I was training. Now, I'm helping you find your friend before that weird guy shows up again. What does she look like?"

Ciri looked Geralt over once more, one hand on her chin, and her young features shifted into a smirk. "She's around your age, I think...red hair…very...erm...curvy. Yea...I think you two should meet."

Geralt's other brow joined his first raised one, and then he gazed upwards at the trees. "Red hair...should be easy enough to spot. Do you have anything that belongs to her? Something Ghost could track by smell?"

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"She lent me these clothes...they still smell like her perfume." Ciri said, eyeing the rock puppy. "Are you sure he'll be able to find her?"

Geralt just smirked. "He'll be fine. Ghost." The Rockruff rolled to attention as his Trainer said his name. "Sniff Ciri. Her clothes. Try to find that scent. We'll get her to safety."

The Rockruff did as instructed then, sniffing the girl's shirt, arms, legs, and even crotch. There were many smells to sort through, and many were unfamiliar. The girl turned red as Ghost found the scent, but Geralt was too busy scanning the woods for a flash of red, or pink, to notice. "I'm going to get a better view...Ghost, keep her safe."

The Rockruff yipped, and then sat next to the girl, looking up at her as his tongue lolled, and he panted. He was also rather sweaty. His tail wagged as she pet him once more, and it was moments before he was again in belly rub heaven.

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Geralt climbed one of the closer tall trees, and then looked around, specifically in the direction Ciri had barreled in from. When he saw nothing, he switched to his ears then, and listened. On the wind, came a voice, calling. It sounded female, and the word it was shouting was 'Ciri!'. It was an echo though, which meant her friend was likely in a valley, beneath the canopy.

Geralt mentally traced Ciri's most likely path from the direction she'd come, and diverted his eyes to the nearest valley. Then, he caught it. A flash of crimson among the green, remarkably close to the part of The Killer that went between the two Mediterra mountains that made up the course.

Geralt leapt down branch to branch easily, using their species' affinity for grabbing branches to guide and safely direct his momentum. He rolled as he landed, and sprung up to his feet, unharmed. "I've got a direction, and Ghost has the scent. Let's go."

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Geralt followed his Rockruff as they headed for the valley part of The Killer, an area with quite a few obstacles meant to improve strength and agility. Luckily, they'd already done those courses, and getting back to where they'd been distracted from wouldn't be too difficult. They trekked for several hours as they descended, and Geralt almost forgot Ciri was there, until she complained, or almost fell. Several times, Fangst's capture energy whip had wrapped around her to keep her from tumbling down the mountain.

She was a quick learner though, and after the second time that happened, she copied what Geralt did, eyeing the ground's terrain as they descended. It was around that time that she finally asked a question. "So Geralt...do you have a girlfriend? You must be pretty popular with that jawline and Ranger status."

"I do alright." He muttered, staying focused on his path of descent. He knew Ghost had the scent now, but his partner's tail was upright, stiff, and he was sniffing constantly at the air around them.

When he didn't say anything else, the twelve year old pushed for more. "Is that a 'no' then?"

"You should focus on your footwork." He answered, smirking. Several moments of silence passed, and Ciri gave an exasperated sigh. "No. No girlfriend." He said, finally relenting. He subtly eyed the girl's face, and she seemed pleased by his answer for some reason. He didn't get why. She was twelve, and he would likely have a steady partner by the time she was old enough. Even then, a romance between them would be weird after having met her as a child. As a rule, Geralt tried to keep romantic partners within five years of himself.

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They didn't speak again until they reached the bottom of the valley. Noticing she was panting rather hard, Geralt broke the silence. "It's late. Almost dawn. We can rest for a bit, but not too long. It gets cold out here without constant movement."

Ciri found a rock to perch on, and as she recovered, Ghost approached for more belly rubs. Geralt chuckled, after taking a sip from his Ranger canteen, and passing it to her. "He likes you. Normally only I can pet his belly, and only when he's good."

Ciri took a swig, and then looked at the Rockruff, splayed before her. "Is that why you love these so much? Does your Trainer not give you enough love?" She started scratching again, tossing the canteen back to him, as she used both hands.

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Suddenly, Geralt whirled, as there was a snapping sound of a twig from somewhere around them. Ghost sat up as well, ears and tail up and alert. "Fangst." He said, and his wrist began to glow, as his Rotom powered up.

Ciri watched the Wolf Styler's eyes glow an ominous red, but all she could say was, "Cooool…"

"Shh." Geralt replied, glancing around. Ghost barked, and Geralt whirled towards where his Rockruff was looking. Instead of a redhead, out of the foliage came an old man. His hair was pink, his lower lip was covered in some sort of semi-perpetual pink slime, and he had a lab coat, like a scientist or a Professor. He was stumbling around like he was very drunk and had the eyes of a man who hated his existence, or perhaps, what he was about to do to preserve said existence.

His pink monobrow rose as he saw Ciri. "Finally. It's about *belch* daaamn time. Stay still, girlie...making this not *belch* huuurt is the least...I can do." The pink haired man shakily raised an object that looked suspiciously like a grocery store scanner at her, and Geralt and Ghost slid between them and the man's unsteady aim. The man lowered the device, and Geralt could tell he was properly wasted, likely from alcohol imbibement. "Thank you for finding my, uh, granddaughter, Ranger. I'll take her from here." He looked Geralt over more, and a smirk formed on the man's face that was downright sleazy as he saw the trainee uniform. "Heheh... You should get back to your training, Nooblet. Kriger doesn't like slackers."

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Geralt's eyes narrowed. "It's my day off...how do you know about Kriger?"

The old man waved his hand. "It doesn't *belch* maaaatter. I'd like to get home before the sun rises...now, hand over my granddaughter."

Ciri spoke up then, "I'm not your granddaughter! I don't even know you! Where's Triss?"

"Triss? She's uh...at the helicopter. Waiting for us. We *belch* aaare going home now little lady…"

Geralt interposed himself between the man with a persistent burp and Ciri, and Ghost did the same with a snarl, that made him pause. "Ciri says she doesn't know you...go get Triss, and I'll believe you, old man. We'll wait right here. Otherwise, she's not going anywhere."

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The old man gave a deep sigh as he pinched his brow, and his face and demeanor changed to something more serious as his posture straightened, and his eyes became those of a sad killer. "I'm tired of this charade...give me the *belch* giiiirl, Ranger. You have no idea what she is…"

Ghost snarled, and Geralt's expression mirrored his. "She's twelve…" He said exasperatedly, "She isn't old enough to warrant death...I don't care what she's done."

The man glared at Ciri as she'd apparently blabbed, and then met Geralt's gaze again. His eyes had gone from drunk and unfocused to cold and hard in the space of a moment. "She told you that huh? It's not about what she's *belch* dooone, it's about what she's *belch* gooooing to do! You think I want to do this? She's younger than my *belch* graaaaandson, but the future, man...the future needs to happen. It's too dope to let *belch* diiiiie. You're interfering in things that are beyond your comprehension, Nooblet...she's dangerous. The Lady of Time and Space *belch* muuuust not mature…" The old man took a similar stance to Geralt then and leveled the device he'd pulled from his lab coat pocket at the Ranger. It was white, shaped like a grocery scanner, and had a small pink crystal in a glass sphere atop the device. "Last chance, kid. *belch* Steeeehhp aside. Only one of you has to end here."

Geralt snarled this time, "Over my moldering corpse…"

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"So be it…" The old man said, eyes closing. He pointed the device to his right side, and Ghost began to charge for a Crunch attack, as dark energy limned his tiny fangs. The device glowed, and shot forth a ball of pink energy, opening a similarly pink swirling hole in reality a few feet from the old man.

Through the portal, came a creature of frost and nature, a combination of ice and grass typing. An Abomasnow, and one that was already in its Mega Form. As it stepped out of the portal, the air around the three humans turned frosty. Shards of ice crystals filled the air, as the mere presence of the Mega Abomasnow turned the surrounding pair of mountains into the middle of a truly massive blizzard. "Obamasnooooow!" The old man shouted, getting its attention as the wind began to howl and swirl.

"Sheer Cold." The old man said as he pointed at Ghost, and the Abomasnow answered with "Abomaaaaa!" As a wall of ice formed from the snow in the air, and surged towards Geralt, Ghost, and Ciri.

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Ghost broke off his charge, and tried to dodge, but it was too little too late. Or, it would have been, if a new and female voice hadn't shouted at that moment, "Phoxi! Flaire! Fire Blast!" A twin pair of vaguely human shaped five-pointed fire attacks slammed into the sheer cold, and exploded into shards of ice, and mist that filled the area amid the hail.

From the collision came a woman that Geralt's granduncle would've described as a 'perfect ten' as he'd been partial to redheads. Ciri had not lied either, as she was quite curvy, and quite beautiful. Geralt only had a moment to admire her though, before he focused, and sent Ghost in. "Ghost, Quick Attack! Don't let it power up again!"

Triss and Ciri called each other's names, and met with a hug, behind Geralt. For his part, Ghost had smashed into the Mega Abomasnow's face, and continued to zip by, nipping and hammering the larger Pokémon with each consecutive Quick Attack. He was doing well, until the old man spoke again. "Enough. Obama*belch*snoooow, use Ice Punch!"

The mega evolved Pokémon moved before Ghost could even attempt a dodge, and the Infinity powered super effective move hammered the tiny rock puppy, freezing it in a block of ice, before sending him hurtling away, where he stuck in the ground.

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Ciri had evidently explained who he was to Triss, because she shouted at him, as Ghost went flying. "Geralt! I'll get her to safety. Use my Flareon!"

Geralt nodded, and then looked at the Flareon, who nodded at him. "Alright then. Flamethrower!"

Triss gave a command to her Delphox as well. "Phoxi, Teleport us back!"

"Nooo!" The old man yelled, but it was too late. The quadruple effective move hit the Abomasnow, and burned it. By the time it could counter, the Delphox, her Trainer, and the child had vanished, leaving Geralt and the borrowed Flareon to stall the old man.

"Who even are you...why are you trying to murder a child!?" Geralt asked, and the old man sighed.

"Obamasnow...go home. Eat a berry or somethin'." The mega evolved Pokémon suffering from its burn did so, limping through the pink portal, and vanishing as it closed. There was a definite change in tone, now that his prize was gone. The old man was calm, but Geralt could see the irritation growing in his eyes. Just summoning a fully mega evolved Pokémon to the field was unheard of.

"My name is *belch* Riiiick. Rick Sanchez. I'm trying to keep the multiverse from imploding, Noob. Quadrillions of lives will be snuffed out if we let that little monster live, and *belch* groooow to maturity. Aren't you Lawful Good types supposed to want to avoid massive *belch* caaaaalamity? Time and Space already have masters, and unlike her, we can control our *belch* poooowers." Rick put his hands in his pockets, as he determined deterring the Ranger with logic would be more useful than battling with the injured Abomasnow.

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"So teach her control!" Geralt said, finding he'd come to like the kid in their short time together, and didn't want her to die. "If you already know how to control some aspect of her power, show her how it's done."

Rick sighed. "It's *belch* noooot that simple...that's not how it works, and I don't have time to explain it to a Nooblet. That girl is going to become a monster. It's her fate, Ranger. Right here, right *belch* nooooow, is when she needs to be stopped. The Shadow cannot be allowed to infect her…"

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Geralt's eyes narrowed. "Shadow? What? You're not making sense, Rick Sanchez...and this is no justification for the murder of a child. Under the authority of the International Ranger Force, you are under arrest for attempted murder."

Rick simply sighed, and then pulled out a non-copyright Pokéball from his pocket. "I'm *belch* noooot subject to your laws. Beth. Eliminate all of them...then come and find me." He fired another portal into existence, tossed the ball, and then walked through. A Porygon Z appeared as the portal closed, and Geralt opened the new battle immediately. "Fire Blast!"

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Geralt paused hopefully, as the blast of flame landed, but didn't seem to do much. It was then that he realized this Porygon Z was very high leveled, and neither Flaire nor Ghost could hope to contend with it as they were now. It glowed a bright white, that then shifted to blue, and sank back into the Porygon Z. Strong as it was, it had chosen a type resistant to fire, and with a type advantage, upon using Conversion 2.

Guessing at Flaire's moveset, and hoping Triss was a decent Trainer, Geralt shouted, "Flaire! You need to use Dig!" The Flareon looked back at Geralt with an expression that just seemed...impressed, and then winked at him, before leaping into the air, and spinning down into the ground. Geralt raised a clenched fist before him and shouted, "Yes!" As the move worked.

Unfortunately for Geralt, he could not possibly hope to know the significance of the man who had actually created this Porygon Z, or why he'd done so, and thus could not anticipate what happened next. The Porygon Z floated over the hole left by Dig, looked down, and began screeching. "REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" The faint blue of the acquired Conversion 2 typing was gathered by Beth's psychic power, and focused into the base of her Hyper Beam, essentially creating a very convincing replica of Hydro Cannon.

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Guessing what was about to happen wasn't good, Geralt shouted, "Flaire! Aim for Ghost!" The light around them in the small, wooded clearing grew bright then, as the sun rose over the horizon of the eastern opening of the valley. Time seemed to slow for the Ranger, as several things happened at once. The Porygon Z fired its water lazor into the hole left by Dig, but in the moments it took for the move to pass through Flaire's winding spiral of tunnels, the Flareon broke the surface with Dig, and hammered the ice around Ghost.

The frozen Rockruff was tossed into the air, right as Flaire was hammered by the force of the Hydro Cannon. She fainted, and had a hard landing, as the pressure of the attack had propelled her into the air. Her sacrifice had not been in vain, however.

Ghost's ice shell, rather sturdy as it had been endowed by a Mega Abomasnow, had cracked just enough for the Rockruff to move his paw, and then, the rest of him. As the icy prison shattered from his efforts, his eyes went wide. Varg had, like Ghost, not known which Lycanroc he wanted to become. When he did finally advance, he had done so because it felt right. In that moment under a full moon, he had felt the urge to become a midnight fighter.

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Ghost felt a similar urge now. He didn't quite know what he would become, as Varg had, for it was not quite Day, and well past Midnight. If anything, he would call that moment a Dawn. As the sun rose further, the ice around him from Obamasnow's attacks and Snow Warning glowed as white as his body did, as they created a Sun Dog in the atmosphere. That ice became a part of Ghost, as he evolved into what would become known as the Dawn Form of Lycanroc.

Geralt simply watched in awe, and felt a bit of hope as well, as he saw his Rockruff evolve. Seeing a Midnight Lycanroc in action had caused a bit of envy, and he didn't mind being like Eskel, since by his reckoning it was still night. The two had become good friends over the grueling weeks on The Killer, and two Midnight Lycanroc would be quite hard to beat.

He blinked though, as the light faded, and then, noticed the sun. About twenty-two degrees to the left and right of the Sun were subtly colored patches of light, orbiting it like a pair of mini suns. In the light of those 'three suns' he found his Rockruff had indeed become a Lycanroc, but his form still resembled the Midday Form. His fur was snow white, the tips of his ears were red, and his mane had spikes of ice, not rock, jutting from it. His mane resembled the Day Form more than the Dusk Form's did.

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Or at least, it started that way. As he landed, Ghost began to snarl, and grow. It was an almost horrifying process to watch, but the end result was a heavily muscled, ice-covered Midnight Form Lycanroc, standing on two legs. Ghost was hunched by the weight of the wildly growing ice crystals on his mane, and as he focused on the Porygon Z, he Howled, and then leaned forward, relieving his back of ice crystals in the form of a hail of icy shards. They tore through the Porygon Z and seemed to do at least slightly more visible damage than the Fire Blast.

The crystals on Ghost's coat began to regrow, but Geralt noticed his shoulders were fused to the icy mane that ringed his neck. His movements would be awkward, but powerful, in this form. "Ghost!" Geralt flinched as he finally noticed his Pokémon's new eyes. They were yellow in this form, with vertical black slits curved like a crescent moon. Geralt gave his Pokémon a smirk, and said, "Try a Dark Typed Move." He turned and pointed. "Use Crunch!"

Ghost snorted a cloud of ice at him and leapt forward with impressive speed. It wasn't Crunch he used, though, as he closed in on the Porygon Z. It began trying to power Conversion 2 again, but Ghost hit first. He leapt, and spun his entire body to his right, rotating through the air as a red and black tornado of energy poured off of him like flames, and spun him faster. Geralt was a savvy enough Trainer, and a fan of Royal Mask, so he recognized a horizontal Darkest Lariat. Evidently, his Lycanroc, like the others, had learned a move upon evolving.

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Ghost wasn't done though, for as he landed on all fours, he shifted his weight effortlessly, and spun again like a horizontal tornado of icy claws through the air and hit Beth once more. He repeated this several times, as the Porygon Z tried to use Conversion 2, but couldn't. Ghost didn't give it enough time to do so, and by the seventh hit, she finally fainted.

The Porygon Z crumbled to pieces, and Geralt left it, as he approached Ghost. He was still panting raggedly, and snarling. While he'd been beating 'Beth' senseless, Geralt had saved Flaire, namely by expending one healing item after another. It had taken several Revives, Hyper Potions, and berries, but the Flareon in his arms was alive.

"Ghost." The Midnight reminiscent Lycanroc whirled towards him, and Geralt noticed the eyes softened as they saw Flaire. "You need to calm down, Ghost. Try taking that other form you had." The Lycanroc stared at him for a full minute as he breathed raggedly, before he nodded, and closed his eyes. Geralt exhaled a breath of relief, as he watched his partner return to 'normal'. He was still massive, at least several feet taller than the average Day Form, but his demeanor was closer to what Geralt expected of his partner.

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As Geralt came closer with Flaire, Ghost leaned down, and it was as his large white body lowered into his range of vision that the Ranger realized he could totally ride atop his Lycanroc. He had the sudden and inexplicable urge to try the Wolf Styler while he rode, but he paced himself. Wolves were not horses, and probably weren't easy to ride.

He climbed atop Ghost and looked around. "Take us to Ciri." The icy wolf nodded, and then closed his eyes, as he focused on his incredible hearing and sense of smell. The yellow eyes, still as ferocious as they were at night, shot open, and Ghost let out a chilling howl that split the night, before he ran across the lightly snow-covered mountains. Geralt quickly realized, as they found themselves back on The Killer, that he could set a course record if he figured out what obstacles Ghost couldn't easily handle in his new form.

The massive white wolf veered suddenly, and then seemed to leap out over a cliff edge, only to fly through the barrier of psychic energy, hiding the scene within. Geralt had a moment to take it in, and all he had time to do, was point. Ghost had intruded violently upon Rick, dragging an unconscious Ciri, towards a pink portal. Around them was what appeared to be a cave, instead of a cliffside.

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As Ghost saw the finger in his upper vision focus on the girl, and not the enemy, he rumbled out a sigh, and snapped at Rick's hand. The weird old man had a second to consider, his hand or his target, before his limb retracted, and dropped the girl, who was quickly snatched up by the wolf's jaws. From the look in that Lycanroc's eye, Rick knew even he might have trouble surviving once it got a hold of him.

Ghost dragged Ciri over to the equally unconscious Triss, and her Delphox. Geralt used his last revive on the psychic fire fox, as Ciri saw to Triss. Once Phoxi came to, Geralt moved to help Ciri, and got his first out-of-combat look at Triss. He noted that surrounding her fair features were mechanical implants of some description, but he knew just by sight that the Imperium of Man was responsible for creating them. That likely meant they were for prolonging life or enhancing her some other way.

His brows furrowed, as he straightened her, and found her gold and red robes marked with two insignias. A red and gold twin headed eagle that shared a body, with a pair of lightning bolts coming down beside its tail, and on her left, an image of a black tower embedded in what had to be a Mediterran mountain, against a background of the purple he and the rest of society most commonly associated with psychic types.

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"Enjoying the view?" Came Ciri's mocking tone as she saw where his eyes appeared to be wandering.

Geralt blinked, then looked at her. "Do you know where she's taking you?

Ciri shrugged. "I erm...had an accident, back home. It set off an... alarm or something...so now, I have to go with Triss, or...well, die."

Geralt pinched his brow. "Small child, why is everyone trying to kill you?"

It was as her eyes became shinier and her tone went up in pitch that Geralt's ears lowered, and he realized he might've been a bit too blunt. "I don't knooow...I didn't ask for this…"

Geralt put a hand on her shoulder before the tears could flow and stared her down. "If you can't control your power, the obvious choice would be to learn how, from someone who knows, right? Once you do, if you don't like what they're teaching you, if they treat you badly, if you want out, you let me know. Through psychic dreams. Or a letter." He blinked. "Ah, right, no, I have a Holoceiver...somewhere…" He brought out a small black and silver device then and shook it. "I'll give you the number for this. Make sure whatever you call from can't be traced."

Ciri nodded quietly and sniffed. Geralt wrote down the number and shoved it in her hand. "Don't let them find that. Once you memorize it, burn it." She nodded again, and Geralt waited until she'd hidden the paper away to retrieve his smelling salts and replace his Holoceiver.

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Triss snapped awake after a few moments and blinked. Before her was a rather handsome stubble-covered Ranger in trainee clothes and hiking gear, and it took her a minute to recall who he was. She hadn't noticed the handsome features, as last time she'd mainly watched his back. She felt her Flareon lick her face, as her Delphox conjured what seemed to be some sort of barely visible psychic force, that Triss leaned against, as she sat up. "Ciri? Didn't...didn't he grab you?"

Ciri nodded. "Ghost came to save us." She waggled her eyebrows then, and smirked. "And so did Geralt."

Triss met Geralt's gaze then, and to their onlookers, the air between them almost seemed to smolder, that is, until a massive ice wolf came over to the small child, and licked her cheek, after hearing his name. Triss stared. "Oh...wow...is that...is that the little Rockruff that took a punch for us?" She eyed him over, and it was Geralt's turn to smirk, as he knew the expression on his partner's face. It seemed the white wolf didn't mind her eyes. "You sure got...big. Thank you for saving us."

Ghost glanced at Geralt, who shrugged. "All I did was point. You got us here in time. You grabbed Ciri. He would've killed her, Ghost. Well done."

He fished in his bag then, and the serious demeanor of the Dawn Form Lycanroc melted, his massive, ice-crystal covered tail swishing with a pleasant jingle as he realized what Geralt was retrieving. Only good things came from that pocket. Ghost panted, as he realized he was very hungry, and Geralt had unwrapped three of what one of the other Rangers students had called a 'meat bun', a delicacy in her home region. Ghost caught the first two that Geralt threw, and nommed, then caught the third, and made wolf-biscuits as he froze the pile of mashed meaty deliciousness with his breath, and then proceeded to gnaw on it.

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Once Triss was able, the two Teleported back to where they'd slept the night before. Apparently, Triss had brought them to a family cabin, when Rick first appeared. It was east far enough to be in Germania's territory, but it was close enough to hike to, from the farthest part of The Killer. Geralt and Ghost returned back to base in time to log their extra hours, and essentially rest all day, as was mandatory. He would resume normal mid-week training the next day, but once he'd rested, he had a rare amount of free time, right as the rest of the slackers returned from the ever-enjoyable first day of the week training.

Apparently Echis and co. had set a new course record, but despite their gloating, the majority of the Ranger students were too busy admiring the rock and ice typed Lycanroc to care. Geralt and Ghost woke up early the next day, and tested which obstacles the massive wolf could do, and which would be slowing. There were many paths through The Killer, but avoiding obstacles usually meant tangling with an impressively strong 'wild' Pokémon that always seemed perfectly equipped to initiate an inescapable drawn-out battle. They were always healed up on the next run through, too.

Once they made it through twice, they had time to nap, before it was time for training. Very quickly, Geralt's group noticed his absence for a second day, as he and Ghost bolted ahead of all of them. Echis had his Arbok using Dig to cruise through the course, as he gave zero Muks about the trail the massive cobra was leaving. Ghost quickly outpaced them as well, and then used his Quick Attack as they came up on the first obstacle, a rickety bridge. Echis could cross it, but it took his Arbok a moment, and that moment was all the Lycanroc and his partner needed to get ahead.

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Naturally, Kriger was watching for success, and thus he instituted one of his favorite ploys for crushing excellence, a 'natural' disaster. This time, it was a rockslide that didn't fall on them, but instead blocked their path. Geralt and Ghost could tell it was fresh, as it hadn't been there earlier that morning, but neither seemed worried, as Ghost didn't stop. "Darkest Lariat."

Once more, Ghost rotated, and Geralt clung for dear life to the ice jutting from his mane on his back, as his Lycanroc leapt into the air and spun his body three hundred sixty degrees through the landslide, clearing the pass for themselves, and those who would follow. After that, they completely outpaced Echis, as their lead was commanding enough for them to catch up to their group as they lapped them, and this time, Geralt and Ghost gave them aid. When they moved past Echis's group stuck trying to pull his titanic Arbok out of a mud pit trap, Geralt and his wolf had winked at the pair, as they helped the others speed through the course.

Geralt broke Echis's record in half thanks to his rapidly growing white wolf and the others in his group had all improved their times as well. Later that night, he was brought to Kriger's office. He was back in his leather jacket, but he'd kept the black Ranger pants. He lived in them these days, and they were absurdly comfortable. "Geralt. You and Ghost have been improving a lot lately, and frankly, I knew as soon as he evolved, you'd excel that much further. You've both beaten the times set by the past Rangers already. Ghost still has training to do, and we're preparing a course to play to his strengths and weaknesses, to essentially toughen him up."

Kriger took off his glasses then, and Geralt met his gaze evenly as he steepled his fingers. "What I am offering to you, and four other Rangers, is the chance to be...something new. I want to turn you into the kind of Human that can keep up with a Pokémon like Ghost on The Killer...I want to see what kind of Ranger such a person could become."

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Geralt raised a white eyebrow. "Turn me into what? What are you talking about? How are you going to turn me into anything other than a Ranger?" He sincerely doubted he'd ever keep up with Ghost, but he sensed that this was what Kriger had been waiting for all the long weeks they'd been training. For five individuals to improve enough to be considered for whatever project he had in mind.

"I'll be honest with you...we want to experiment with creating a kind of...empowered Ranger. You know how the Imperium of Man enhances their citizens and warriors? Through implants, and mechanical upgrades? We want to try something similar...albeit, more natural. The process might kill you. It has claimed the lives of many already without a single success. All volunteers, of course...it has taken years, but we are finally ready to perfect the process, and you are one of the ideal candidates. What do you say?" Kriger asked, lowering his hands to the desk. Geralt stroked the beard stubble adorning his face, that was slowly coming in.

"I'd need to know more."

And so, Kriger told him. The idea was to use natural plants, enhanced with Arceus's power, since Pokémon arrived on the planet, and combine them in such a way that they would naturally augment a human's body, making them faster, stronger, able to see in the dark, amongst other abilities. It was not a simple process, it would require some surgery, especially if things went wrong, but the end result promised to turn him and four others into Rangers the likes of which had never been seen before.

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Geralt asked who else was being considered and frowned at each name. Greif, Echis, Levhart, and Bjorn. Each of them, Kriger claimed, had both the necessary physical prowess and Pokémon partner for what he and his top scientists, who he refused to name, had in mind for them. Individually, their times on The Killer were the best, but Geralt didn't agree.

"I can understand the others...even Bjorn, but Echis? That guy is the antithesis of everything I was told Rangers stand for. He blasts through the trail without caring what damage his Dig causes, and his Styler...I'm pretty sure he augmented it. Whatever he tames ends up staying paralyzed, once he's done. He tosses aside wild Pokémon allies like tools he's done with." Geralt highlighted his points, and Kriger sighed, nodding as he was forced to agree with the truth.

"Echis has much to learn, you're right...but the results are clear. He has the aptitude. The way this enhancement process works...it requires a certain kind of bond, with a Pokémon. Say what you want about him, he cares for his Arbok. The fact that it hasn't swallowed him whole indicates the snake probably feels something for him, as well. Either way, you and Greif will be first, if you agree to this. When Echis follows, you can try molding him into a better Ranger." Kriger said, crossing his arms as he finished.

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Geralt pinched his brow. "Isn't that your job?"

Kriger gave him a grim smirk. "These Nooblets are going to need a leader figure, Geralt. You'll be a... team, of sorts. Like the Ultra Guardians. Someone we can call on when the Muk hits the Fan Rotom, and conventional Trainers can't cut it. You and Echis have never Battled, have you. You're going to need to earn his respect, which will be harder after the process...I would Battle him soon...but watch that Iron Tail. They've been perfecting it ever since Ghost evolved."

Silence reigned then, as Geralt mulled over the man's words. Finally, Kriger spoke again. "Well? Are you interested?"

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Several Months Later… - The Mediterra Mountain Range

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Geralt ultimately agreed to Kriger's request and had battled Echis as well. Ghost had eventually learned Drill Run, by using the same rotating attacks he did when using Darkest Lariat, but with ground energy, he had easily beaten the poison cobra, and earned a small amount of respect from the snake's Trainer as well.

With training on The Killer becoming easier for certain Rangers more so than others, many started graduating from Nooblets to Noobs, which was what Kriger called Area Rangers. Geralt was one of the ones who stayed, alongside the other five Kriger had mentioned. Eventually, only those five were left, to the confusion of their classmates who were eager to see them advance and succeed.

Geralt and Ghost had moved then, to a different Ranger facility, hidden deep in the Mediterra Mountains. An ancient castle, in the Germanian style of architecture, had been set aside for the experiments that each of Kriger's chosen five had eventually agreed to. The first of these was relatively easy for Geralt. He had to eat a strict diet of processed plants and berries, some poisonous, all while hiking a trail that seemed to be a spiritual successor to The Killer, save that the obstacles were even more ridiculous, to the point of being impassable, if no other Pokémon were around.

The diet alone gave Geralt many weeks of hurling, and sleepless nights. His only friend through that, was Grief, who was going through the same thing. His constitution was heartier though, so the effects faded not long after they arrived at Castle Morgraig. Thus, he was the first to begin the next stage of what Kriger was calling 'The Trials'. Geralt didn't hear from Greif for over a week after that, and soon enough, he was deemed ready for the next stage as well.

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Once Geralt's system had adapted to the foul concoction of herbs and whatever else, he was finally brought in to meet the scientists who would be responsible for mutating him into something beyond a human. He recognized two of them from the start but let Kriger introduce them. "First, we have Professor Fennel, an understudy of Professor Juniper. For the majority of the next week, you'll be under the care of Doctor Colress, and his aides, former students of the renowned Professor Rowan."

Geralt, knowing Unovan history fairly well, simply glared at Colress. "Aren't you the guy who helped Team Plasma: Pirate Edition capture and convert part of the Original Dragon into a massive ice cannon that was fired on Opelucid?" Fennel averted her eyes at Geralt's sharp tone, and the other aides either seemed to have not known that tidbit, or were aware of it, but unfazed.

Colress was a thin man, clad in a strange gray suit that covered everything. Legs, chest, even hands were all covered in the same gray material, the only thing free of it was his face, and his halo-like hair flick, dyed blue. He pushed his glasses up with his middle finger, as he cleared his throat. "I was, at the time, seduced by the promise of power Ghetsis said his methods would prove was unbeatable, and yet, a trio of teenagers was able to topple him. Twice. With nothing but hard work, training, and the friendship of Pokémon. Since then, I've devoted my life to uncovering the secret of a Pokémon's true power, the bond we share with them, and the reactions it creates...your Lycanroc, for example...I believe you and he can make each other stronger. We've discovered a way to both enhance your bond and make it much more powerful."

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Geralt arched a white eyebrow. "How? What have you learned?"

Colress gave a genuine smile, and Geralt could tell, this was a passion project for him. He seemed on the level now, at least. If he wasn't, he assumed Kriger would have him in handcuffs, not a laboratory. "Historically, the greatest increases to a Pokémon's power have come from Kalos and Galar. Their methods and bonds bring out not just new forms, but new abilities in Pokémon. Sometimes, ones radically different from their final evolutionary stage in a way that Terastallization simply doesn't."

Geralt smirked. "I sense a 'but' coming…"

"But." Colress said, smirking as well, "I discovered a third method of attaining power, one that I believe can transcend even Mega Evolution. During the Dark Times, our scientists, viewed as magicians to common people, were able to use the scientific knowledge of the past to create a series of crystals that were able to contain a Pokémon, much like our Pokéballs. Instead of just holding them however, these crystals induced a fusion between Human and Pokémon alike with a strong enough bond, forming them temporarily into a single being with unlimited potential. With the help of the IRF's Rangers, we have been able to successfully recreate one of these 'Burst Hearts' but as of yet have been unable to make them work. The texts imply psychic power is required to activate them, as well as a strong bond."

Geralt tilted his head. "I'm not exactly psychic, Doc. Nor do I think I want to be, given how close we are to the Imperium."

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Colress gave a nervous giggle. "Oh yes. Wise. You don't want the Imperium to ever discover what we're doing here...they'd annihilate us. And our home regions. Thankfully, you don't need to be psychic. We're going to implant a Burst Heart into your chest, after it's bonded with your Lycanroc. You'll be closer than ever before, and if we succeed, I believe that with time, you will fully unlock its potential, and achieve a fusion of Human and Pokémon."

Geralt was quiet, stroking his now nicely growing in white beard as he eyed the floor. It sounded, to him, like Colress had cracked, but then, Kriger was not a man to waste talent like Geralt's on a pipe dream. As salty as the man was, Geralt trusted his intentions, and then met Colress's gaze. "How do we begin?"

"Drink this." Colress said, handing him a large, clay pitcher. "Every drop. Then...give this to your Lycanroc while you sleep." Colress reached inside his weird one-piece techno-suit, and pulled out a hexagonal crystal, glowing with all the colors of Infinity energy.

Geralt stared, as he took the rainbow crystal. He could feel the power running through it, and for the first time, started to wonder if Kriger was on to something. "How...did you even make this?"

Colress tapped his thin nose and winked at the Ranger. "That's a trade secret even my esteemed colleagues don't know, and if I have my way...they never will. I made a promise after all. The knowledge of how to create these...it must never fall into the hands of men like Ghetsis. That's why I destroyed the clues that led me to the secret and have not written down the method to create them anywhere. The only place that information now resides, is in my mind."

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Geralt nodded, agreeing with the man, and was now more convinced that he wasn't secretly still evil. It seemed his pursuit of drawing power from Pokémon, while misguided once perhaps, had since found its way back on the path of all that was right and good. That, he could support. "I'll do as you ask. Then what?"

"You're in for a rough night, Ranger...well, more like a rough month, but by the time you're done...you'll be someone new. Come to the lab once the pitcher is empty, if you can. From there, it's up to us, and your body, to succeed." As Geralt stood to turn and leave the dank basement lab, Colress spoke again. "If you wish to back out Geralt, do so before you finish the pitcher. We won't think less of you for doing so."

Hearing that, Geralt paused, and grimaced. "Just what exactly is in this, Doc?"

Colress chuckled. "Oh, you know. Mystical herbs. Mutagenic compounds. That sort of thing. Unfortunately, I can promise you it will Not taste good. In fact, it will likely be overpoweringly disgusting, but I must emphasize the importance of drinking every drop...every candidate that hasn't...died rather quickly in the next stages. Be sure this is your path, before you start swigging."

Geralt turned his head slightly, nodded at the Doctor, and then left. Once back in his private room, he gave Ghost the crystal to hold, and the white wolf seemed enamored with it. Then, Geralt sat on his bed, and held the pitcher. He thought of his family, naturally. He had two little sisters, twins named Gina and Gianna, and a little brother as well, called George, who was older than the infants, but still nowhere near Geralt's age. Apparently, Geralt had been the accidental child, and once his parents immigrated from Germania and settled at the Redwood Ranch, they'd finally had more. The result was a large age gap between him and his siblings. He knew they liked him, looked up to him. Now, he wondered if they'd recognize him the next time he went home.

Assuming he survived.

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Ghost watched him stare at the pitcher and whined. It was a questioning inflection, but Geralt knew what he was asking. He would be fine with backing out now, especially after what Geralt had told him of the meeting and scenting the foul liquid within the pitcher. He could live with being an Area Ranger's partner, but Geralt shook his head. "No... we can't turn back now, Ghost. We've trained too hard for this. I want to see where this path of ours will take us...at the very least, I trust Kriger, if not his scientists. There are forces in this world we're going to have to contend with once we get to the top...I want to be ready for them, and whatever they put us through." He smiled at his partner. "You and I will reach new heights that even those eggheads won't recognize."

Ghost gave him a short bark, that Geralt figured meant something along the lines of 'Chug it, then', and so, he did. The liquid was every bit as foul as it smelled. There were...chunks, of something, he felt slide down his throat, and roil in his stomach, but he kept chugging anyway. Higher and higher, he tilted the pitcher as tears ran from his eyes. Every instinct he had begged him to stop, but he persisted. Finally, mercifully, it was empty. The pitcher crashed to the floor as he rolled back on the bed and growled. Ghost curled up on the other side of the bed, surrounding the Burst Heart, as he watched his human. Geralt mumbled that he was fine, but Ghost was not convinced.

All night, the Ranger rolled and convulsed, drifting in and out of consciousness. His dreams made little sense. Sometimes, they were pleasant. Sometimes, he saw Triss. Sometimes, he saw Triss, and all of his former Ranger classmates, the females anyways, nude, and surrounding him in some sort of hot spring. Other visions were less pleasant, and he shifted from nightmares to pleasantness regularly. Finally, the sun woke him as REM sleep had finally taken over his exhausted form. He dragged himself from the bed, only to stumble, and find himself supported by white fur. "Ghost…" He mumbled hoarsely, "Go...to the lab...bring...the thing…" That, was the last conscious memory he had. What followed next were visions, snippets of things that felt real, and things that had to be made up.

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The next time he became semi-lucid, he heard a voice. "...and Lycansbane. That's all of them...the Heart is bonded in place, and his body is almost ready...now, we wait." Indescribable pain then filled the entirety of his half-aware consciousness for what had to be hours but felt more like years. Multiple years, of nothing but mind-breaking pain. It encompassed every sense he had, even while unconscious. He faded in and out of it, but every time he became even partially aware, the pain returned, more potent than before.

That pain was overwritten, as he felt something sharp cut into his chest. His body surged in new agony, as the split nerve endings screamed at his brain, and again, heard a voice. "Dammit, hold him down! I don't want to waste time repairing an artery!" Then, the pain returned, but it was dulled. Everything he felt and experienced was comfortable, blessed numbness, and in that moment of peace, Geralt finally slept.

He awoke, because a twitch caused by a dream he instantly forgot brought him to reality again. His chest was on fire, and he snarled. Something began beeping, somewhere, and soon, the numbness returned. That process of awakening and numbness, a preferred change to the agony of Before, repeated what felt like a thousand more times, before finally, when he felt aware again, he twitched, and only felt a dull soreness, in his chest. It still hurt, but Geralt's pain tolerance was rather high. He tried to open his eyes but couldn't. They felt like they were completely crusty, like after a long sleep, but worse. "My eyes…" He growled, as he felt his wrists restrained.

"He's awake!" Came a voice. Movement happened, and Geralt's ears twitched, as each sound bombarded his senses like never before. Wood scraping on stone had never been so loud, and the door was like thunder as it opened and closed several times. Warm water soon covered his eyes in the form of a cloth, and Geralt rubbed his face against it. His arms tried to move, but couldn't, so he tugged twice, and then fell limp. Moments later, the restraint came off, and Geralt grabbed the towel from whoever had been holding it. A woman, by the smell that entered his nose. Somehow, on some level, his mind processed what he was inhaling, and compared it to previous memories.

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When he'd finally wiped his eyes free of truly narsty slime and goo, Geralt lowered the towel, as his vision blurred, and then focused like never before. He could see every pore on Colress's nose, the well-hidden age lines that marked his brow, the streaks of silver in his blonde hair that blended rather well, and likely with chemical aid, but were visible to the Ranger. The older scientist smirked, and as he peered closer, that smirk grew into a grin. "It worked...it only Bloody worked!" He cheered, and the scientists around him, chuckled, some even clapped. Then, they quieted quickly, as Colress spoke again. "Well? How do you feel, Geralt?"

In truth, he was annoyed. The tone of Colress's voice irritated him, and his underlying obsession with power was more unsettling than it had been at their first meeting. He looked down then and considered the annoying man's question. Honestly, he felt amazing. His body was on fire, and he had the sudden urge to move. He tossed the towel away and sat up. As he spoke, he realized he was in nothing but his boxers, but he didn't let it affect his coarse monotone voice. "I feel...pretty good, actually...thirsty…"

"Professor Fennel, get the man some water, would you?" Colress asked, and Geralt's eyes shifted to the Professor, as she was closest to a prepared pitcher of water. She quickly passed it to him, watching his eyes as he took it. She too, was looking rather proud. Geralt made a concentrated effort not to stare at the woman too long or too obviously, for his male gaze had a tendency to linger on the fairer sex, he noticed. Not that it hadn't before, it was just infinitely harder to ignore, now. For whatever reason, his thoughts were momentarily consumed by the desires that had propelled humanity forward for hundreds of thousands of years, but he willed them down, and focused on his drink.

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It was as Geralt chugged the water, and felt a drop slip free, to his tender chest, that he glanced downwards, finally. The cup fell to his lap, and then began to fall. In the space of the second it took for the cup to spiral towards the bed's edge, Geralt saw the product of the lab's work, and what they had wrought on his chest. Embedded within the red, raw skin of his well-muscled and toned chest was the Burst Heart, but it was different now. It was shaped like a Lycanroc's head, but not just any Lycanroc. It was a passable replica of Ghost himself, though thankfully not one that protruded. The crystal was shaped like his mane and jaw, but the face within the crystal and its surface was flat enough for clothing to fit over. Geralt assumed, as he currently had very little. He snatched the cup with a lightning-fast grab and set it back on the table in under a second. That brought more smiles and words of congratulations to each other from the scientists.

Noticing his eyes and where they fell, Colress spoke again. "Ah yes...in a few days, that will meld completely with your chest. Don't worry, it's not damaging your organs or bones. It might if you get hit hard enough there...but guard your center, and you'll be fine. As you can see, it's bonded with your Lycanroc. We hypothesize that it will allow you to communicate and understand him better than you could before, or perhaps, with more detail and less guessing. The power from the Heart is currently infusing every cell in your body. Once it's done, you'll be able to run faster, jump higher, and see in the dark, like your partner. You'll age slower, if you age at all, and as long as you live, Ghost lives as well. There is...one final part, to this particular Trial. This is not the last one, either. Right now...you're about halfway through."

Geralt sighed audibly, but it came out as more of a growl. He noticed that, for some reason, growling felt easier. It might've just been his sore throat, but he spoke anyway. "Hurry up, then...the sooner these are done, the sooner I can get out there…"

Colress eyed Geralt for a long moment, and then nodded. "Very well...Doctor Yuzo, give him the final Mutagenic concoction."

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One of the scientists introduced as one of Professor Rowan's former aides walked up to Geralt, and as he did, brought with him a sparkling wineglass full of a bright orange liquid. He realized it was snow white hair being added to the sparking concoction, and as Geralt took it, sniffed it, and found it revolting on levels he had previously not been aware of, he grimaced at Colress.

"This will make you more like Ghost...faster, comfortable on all fours, larger canine teeth, nails hard enough to be claws, etcetera...they won't stick around forever, but if you flex them for combat, they will appear. They may also eventually not disappear...so be aware. This is...new territory for us." The scientist's annoying voice sounded genuine enough to Geralt, and he exhaled, then once more, imbibed a foul, foreign, and mostly unknown substance into his body on the word of a stranger with a checkered past.

Once Geralt had finished, finding this one slightly more palatable than the first pitcher of grossness, his chest flared a bright gold, and a howl from outside the room joined his own cry of pain, as Trainer and Pokémon experienced the painful discomfort of change together. Eventually, mercifully, Geralt whited out again, only to then seemingly moments later, be woken up by a familiar, icy tongue. Geralt absently crushed the ice crystals in his new beard, and brushed them away, as he pushed Ghost off of him.

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"Down, boy...I'm alright...I think I still need to sleep, though…" Geralt said, yawning. He fell back into a relatively peaceful slumber, as soon as his head fell back to the pillow. Ghost looked at Fennel, who was in the process of standing, until she sat back down, and frowned.

She waved the Lycanroc over, and he came, as the two had become rather friendly over the long days they'd waited by Geralt's bed. "Sleep is a good thing, Ghost. He'll be alright...Kriger worked him pretty hard on The Killer Mark II. He'll be fine once he's up."

Geralt, naturally, heard every word, but ignored them, and soon forgot them entirely, as he slept and recovered. What he didn't know was that beside him, in another bed, was his friend Greif, also lost in sleep. The two stayed like that, with their Pokémon taking their meals by their sides, for the rest of the expected month, and then some. Finally, Colress and Fennel met to discuss the issue.

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By that point, both subject's bodies had acclimated to the Burst Hearts. By all their tests, both Greif and Geralt should have been up and about and training with their new skills, but something was preventing that. Being a specialist in dreams, Colress let Fennel take the lead in treating them, and it was agreed that both Rangers should be woken simultaneously if possible. The other three candidates had already arrived and would be ready for the first Trials soon.

"Let's start with Geralt...Sharni! Use your Dream Mist!" Fennel ordered her Pokémon as she tossed the ball, and the floating pink tapir cried its name, before focusing on Geralt. The pink mist floating from her head filled the lab, and the other scientists watched with interest. "Let's see what he's dreaming, first…" Fennel said, as she calibrated her equipment to account for the Dream Mist, and report and record what it found. She doubted anyone would ever see the recordings of the mutated Ranger's dreams, but posterity was important to Aurea Juniper, and Professor Fennel had taken after her mentor.

The scene recreated for the scientists was of the encounter with Rick, Ciri, and Triss. Naturally, Kriger had a report on it, but only Colress had been allowed to read it. As the events repeated with the voices as Geralt recalled them, the scientists murmured to each other, with the appearance of this 'Rick Sanchez', and his inexplicable desire to murder a child. It was as Colress remarked on Geralt's strong moral fiber, that Rick mentioned the child, who evidently was psychic, falling to Shadow. The entire group fell quiet, and Fennel spoke quickly. "Sharni...pause the mist flow."

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Colress stood then and walked over towards the Dream Mist version of Rick. "Now that...is intriguing." The title Rick had given her, the Lady of Time and Space, certainly had implications, and though the mist obscured the color of the crystal in his portal device, Colress was sharp enough to catch that it was probably related to Palkia, as was this Rick character in some way. The impression Colress got from his attitude was one of a man who did not and would not be replaced by a little girl. If she was in the Imperium now though, for he had recognized Triss's clothing emblems and knew what they meant, Rick Sanchez would have quite a time retrieving her from the Obsidian Keep on Mount Olympius, the tallest mountain in the world at the center of the Imperium's power, and the home of their Imperator.

One of the other scientists spoke, as Colress pondered. "He mentioned the Shadow, Colress. If the Imperium is playing with-"

"Don't worry about the Imperium." Colress said, turning, and smirking. "The Imperator knows better than to invite madness into his being...but I wouldn't put attempting to control the Shadow, in another vessel, past him. We should focus on the task at hand...and I think we should bring Geralt in on the danger behind what we're facing. The more he knows, the better he can fight it."

At that moment, Kriger spoke. "No."

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Colress turned towards the man and arched an eyebrow. "No? But we need champions for the Light, Kriger. That's the entire point of this project."

"The point of this project is to create Rangers with unmatched tracking skills, speed, and endurance, to better fight poachers and the evil teams of our time. If Geralt comes to the Light, he must do it on his own. The same goes for Greif and the others. They must rise or fall by their own decisions on their own paths, and we will react accordingly based on their choices." Kriger said, crossing his arms as he sat back in his chair, near the wall beside the door to the lab.

"That's just inviting disaster, Kriger." Colress countered, "You've seen Echis. I would bet money Levhart also falls to Shadow and its temptations, once its minions learn what we're making here."

"I agree." Kriger said, making the scientist's eye twitch. "Which is why we will condition the Rangers who need it, during their trials. As you said, Geralt has a... strong moral fiber, and Greif...I'm not worried about his. In fact...his Burst Heart's eyes have been golden since the bonding. He's probably already in contact with the Light. Fennel, wake up Geralt. It's time he rose and got back to work."

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Fennel sighed and tapped at her keyboard. "Yea, I'll just do that…" She muttered. "Sharni, resume the stream, and then insert me. Let's try waking him that way."

The Musharna responded with a cry of its own name, and then focused its Dream Mist, using its psychic powers to insert an avatar of her Trainer into the Ranger's dream. Shortly after, Geralt's eyes shot open, and he sat up, panting. Then, he held his head. "Oof…" The Dream Mist retracted, and Colress moved to Geralt's bedside. Fennel and Sharni then focused on Greif, who seemed to be dreaming of running beside Geralt and the others on The Killer.

"Welcome back, Ranger. You were stuck in your dreams for a while there. How are you feeling?"

Geralt groaned, as he sat up and looked at Colress. "I feel...better, actually...last time, I felt like I was on fire, eager to move...but now…" He clenched and unclenched his fist, and with a bit of focus, his nails grew, his hand enlarged slightly, and white hair formed over it in a thin coating. "I can control it...it's like a... sixth sense." He retracted the claws then, and the fur and size disappeared with them. Then, he noticed his hair. It was longer now, well past his shoulders, and it was also as white as Ciri's had been. He glared at Colress. "You've made me old before my time, Doc."

Colress chuckled nervously. "An unintended side effect...and one unique to you, Geralt Redwood. Greif's hair did not lose its pigment, but yours has been overtaken by your Lycanroc's."

Geralt just sighed quietly and nodded. Now he was sure his family would barely recognize him.

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He looked to his right, as he heard Greif, and saw the burly and far more shredded man sit up. The Trials had only enhanced his physique, among other things. Greif was quicker to stand than Geralt, and as he did, the female scientists flushed, as did a few of the males. It didn't take a degree to figure out why, for the man's undergarments had evidently grown...snug, as his body had grown. Geralt tested his own, which felt exactly the same. Indeed, his body was still around five feet and ten inches, and while Greif had been around six foot two inches before, he had to be pushing six foot nine afterwards.

Geralt crawled out of his bed and smirked at Greif. "How come you got to be so tall, while I'm the same height?"

Colress eyed both of them, and he was also smirking. "The Trials affect everyone differently...Greif is probably stronger than you now, Geralt, but he cannot manifest claws. Yet. With time, you may grow taller too. We really don't know...you two are the first to survive. It's been over a month since you began...now that you're at this stage, all that's left is for you to test your new abilities. But first…"

Colress whistled sharply, and there was a cacophony of footsteps outside the door. Geralt heard Ghost's whine, and grinned as one of the scientists opened it. His massive Dawn Lycanroc came loping towards him, and Geralt could feel how happy he was that his human was alive, awake, and seemingly alright. Silvally had a similar reaction with Greif, and once the two Pokémon calmed, Kriger stood from his chair, and spoke to both of them.

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"Well done, Rangers...I watched both of you endure that...I have a feeling these Trials will break lesser men. For today, you may test yourselves on the second iteration of The Killer at your own pace...tomorrow...we begin setting records...and breaking them. Your new outfits are in your rooms. You are no longer Noobs. You may now consider yourselves fully-fledged Rangers."

As Kriger finished, Colress tapped Geralt's shoulder. "You'll notice we made some...modifications...to your Wolf Styler. The consumption on Faust should be lessened significantly, and, we've added functionality for the use of Ranger Signs, should you learn any. We've also copied your Granduncle's design, and modified it for the other Rangers who will, with luck, turn out like you. To be honest, your entire class has requests for similar Stylers, you've started a trend already."

Geralt crossed his arms, as he pondered what Colress intended with his Granduncle's designs. "Wait a second. Are you going to be handing out these devices to everyone that asks for one? That's a lot of Rotom."

Colress pondered. "You're right, Geralt. They should have a bond with a Rotom, that will bring out the most power. Hmm. Caring for a younger one already imprinted with their Styler should help some of your contemporaries with their...emotional issues." Behind Colress, the other scientists had begun murmuring, and Colress waved Geralt and Greif on their way. "Go on, Rangers. We have work to do."

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Five Years Later… - Somewhere in the Germania Region

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"I kid you not, Triss. He turns himself into a pickle. He's called Pickle Rick. Funniest thing I've seen in a long time."

Triss Merigold murmured an 'uh huh' as she fixed up her mussed hair in the mirror of the room she and her lover had been staying in for days, now. Geralt had discovered the wonders of Imperium television and was enjoying the seemingly limitless content as he recovered from his refractory period. Given that they'd been going at it for most of the night, and it was almost noon now, Triss was more than willing to give the man a well-deserved rest. He hadn't seemed to need one, even after four rounds in a row, but once they'd reached the double digits for the apexes of his own stimulation, the heavily mutated body of the Area Ranger had finally required a rest.

That was just as well, for Triss had been trying to muster the courage to tell the handsome Ranger of the Imperium's plans for several days now, and other things had continued to distract her from doing so. It wasn't like she wasn't in trouble already. Not reporting on the extensive mutations the International Ranger Force had caused in Geralt Redwood would make her a Traitor in the eyes of the Obsidian Keep. Despite that, she still hesitated.

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After being assigned to the northernmost part of Galar for his Area Ranger duties, Geralt and Triss had enjoyed several similar trysts over the course of five years, always meeting in a geographically neutral, and unimportant mountain resort, such as the one they were in now, to enjoy each other's company. The difference this time, was that Triss had come with more than her usual desire to be repeatedly left in a pleasure coma. Only recently had she learned what the Imperator was experimenting with, deep below the Mediterra Mountains, and how Ciri was involved in it.

She subtly eyed the mutated Ranger from the mirror and sighed inwardly. He likely wouldn't even know what to do with that knowledge, and she knew, as soon as she uttered it, the psychics of the Obsidian Keep would be able to see and hear it. They monitored the planet for the revelation of such secrets, and she knew of no place their eyes could not peer. The Imperator took no chances with his most promising projects, and she had only been brought in on them as an advisory aid. Little more.

Finally deciding that now was not the right time, she strode back to their bed, as nude as she'd been when she left, and joined the Ranger. He seemed enamored by the current TV content, which seemed to be depicting a universe where every one of the cartoonish characters had somehow been turned into a pickle. Or maybe Pickle Rick had found a sentient pickle dimension. She let out a sigh as her head rested on his shoulder. "How can you watch this drivel?"

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Geralt chuckled. "It's actually pretty high concept stuff. Not the kind of thing you can just jump into and expect to understand. It takes a keen mind to follow this plot, but I have to admit, I'm hooked now. Invested. One hundred years, Pickle Riiick!"

Triss sighed again. "How is Albion these days, mister Area Ranger? It seems to keep you busy enough."

Geralt nodded; his eyes unmoving from the screen. "Oh, y'know, plenty of dark forests, Dark Typed Pokémon, bandits and other issues. For the most part, I handle guiding the more...wild...Pokémon away from the settlements. But the people adore their king, even if he is a Gallade. Uther rules them fairly and advises me on where the darkness tends to lurk. As areas go, it's fairly easy to keep safe."

Triss glanced at the gem in his chest, shaped like Ghost, who was at that moment either sleeping on the balcony of their room, or hunting in the Mediterra Mountains. "Is that where you got those Shiny Doublade from? You do know they subsist on life force, right?"

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Geralt nodded again. "I'm aware. But as I'm sure you've noticed, I have life force in spades, and it always comes back. Stal prefers taking down bandits. Srebro handles the more...violent...Dark Types that lurk in the forest. Albion's Rockruff have taken on the Dark Typing, and their Lycanroc are vicious. Though, that may be because the more...rustic...people of Albion keep shooting them when they see them."

"You mean the region run by a Pokémon is technologically and educationally deficient? Color me surprised." Triss said, sarcastically.

"There's something to be said for a life without technology. Albion doesn't have to enslave its people just to keep its lands functioning, and in check. Nor do they enslave foreigners that wander into their borders." Geralt answered, his warped eyes still unmoving from the screen. He chuckled again, to himself, as Pickle Rick turned himself into a human as a 'big reveal'. Naturally, the pickle people didn't like this abomination, and pickle-based slaughter had ensued. He was convinced this was the height of comedy.

Triss rolled her eyes, ignoring the graphic pickle slaughter spectacle on the screen. "We don't enslave everybody...just the criminals. Only the truly awful ones become Servitors."

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Geralt paused the show, with a flick of the remote, and turned his gaze on Triss. "Bjorn tells me that every other month he has people going missing all along the Mediterra range, Triss. When your vaunted society runs out of criminals, when your crime prevention methods work too well, your Imperium turns to the 'barbarians' of the wider world for their lobotomized slaves. Somehow, the rest of the world manages to get along just fine without capturing innocent people and turning their brains into obedient machines."

Triss met his gaze evenly, eyes widening slightly. "I never knew you had such strong opinions about the Imperium."

Geralt smirked. "One of the people I care for hails from there, and since I can only imagine what they'd do to me in their borders, I figured knowing my enemy was a good idea. I wish you'd leave them. If more people defected, the Imperator might be convinced to change his methods." Geralt resumed the show then, turning his warped eyes back to the screen.

Triss shook her head. "There will always be more Humans to labor for His glory. We're doing important work, Geralt...in fact…" As she made the decision to, if not tell him outright, at least drop a hint about the Imperator's plans, Triss found she couldn't speak. At all. Her body literally seized up, and her vocal cords refused to function. She felt a mechanical whirr within her, and her eyes went wide, for a moment.

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Though the sensation passed quickly, Geralt didn't seem to notice, but Triss understood what had occurred, and the Ranger didn't seem to notice the silence as she trailed off, distracted and sated as he was. His libido had increased significantly with his mutations, but there was something to be said for craving the opposite sex. It kept him sharp, focused, hungry. Many things might've changed, had he but noticed why Triss went from speaking to watching the show with him, and joining him on the bed.

Naturally, Human Rick had turned other pickle people human as well, but he didn't have enough Deus ex Serum for the whole planet, and so the humans he managed to save had devolved into a war with the pickle people over the rightful rule of Earth. As they binge watched the show, Human Rick and his allies eventually found more serum, but some of the pickle people actually liked being brine based, and so the war continued.

Triss said no more about Albion or the Imperium, limiting her comments to the show, if only to reaffirm to herself that she could still talk. Geralt remained oblivious, and they spent another three days relaxing and fornicating until they inevitably parted once more. Triss had taken the hint, even if Geralt had missed it completely. Speaking about the Imperator's plans would cause her life-extending implants to either malfunction, or knowing the Imperium, explode, if she forced the information out of her mouth anyways. She resolved to find another way to acquire the Ranger's help, though the form that help would take would only be known once she had a plan to, at the very least, get Ciri out of the project.

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Fifteen Years Later… (Circa Chapter 40)

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Over a decade and a half passed, and in that time, several things changed for Geralt. He gathered more permanent partners on his belt, like a shiny Corviknight, and an Espeon. He also achieved the rank of Top Ranger after keeping not just Albion, but Galar and the surrounding Galish Isles safe as well, once he could easily travel between them. With that promotion had come reassignment, to his home continent no less, and he found keeping the thousands of regions within the States safe was a constant effort that left no time for trysts with Triss.

Not that there had been any. After that last one, she had gone silent, and despite Geralt's best attempts to reach her or pass a message to her within the Imperium. He eventually learned that, for some reason, she was ignoring his messages completely, and seemed to have moved on, romantically. Though he didn't advertise it, the mutations to his mind and body had also caused a dulling of pain, particularly of the emotional variety. He took Triss's abandonment in stride, for his libido still burned with the passion of a thousand suns, and there was an entire planet full of lovely, and often very grateful women.

He bounced between meaningless flings and endless Ranger missions, subsisting on food, women, and wine until one day, the monotony was broken. The most recent war between Fornia and Unova absorbed the Ranger, and his cousin Alex, into the events that shaped it, and ultimately, Geralt came out of the fighting alive, and with newly awakened powers.

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He was at the Redwood's manor house again, on a rare bit of R&R demanded by the IRF after his torture sessions he'd endured throughout his weeks of imprisonment, lounging with Ghost in his own room within the Redwood's manor, and sampling the latest strain of Leaf his cousin had grown. A strain he was evidently calling Yin Yang. Ghost's ears twitched at the same time Geralt's did, and both of them glanced at his Holoceiver, one of many gadgets he'd accrued over his years as an active Pokémon Ranger, now scattered on his dresser.

Not recognizing the number, he answered it. What he got back in response, sent a feeling of dread up his spine. It was Triss's voice, of that he was sure, but the message was garbled. "Geralt...dian Keep. Ciri is...can't...uch time. You ha...us. We'll mee…"

"Triss? Hello? I can't hear what you're saying!" Geralt said, but just before he could get irritated about it, both he and his Dawn Lycanroc glowed with a whitish blue light, and with a 'bamf' sound, suddenly, they found themselves somewhere else.

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Lantea City - Dark Side of Luna

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"Teleport complete, sir!" Came a female voice from somewhere in the distance.

Geralt and Ghost looked around, and sensing danger, Srebro and Stahl leapt from their comfortable ball to help their Ranger. Geralt whirled, taking in the scene around him, his Doublade crossed defensively over his Burst Heart. This wasn't the first time someone had Teleported him randomly to some other place, and last time, that had turned into a major pain in the Mudbray to escape intact.

The room around them was filled with people. They seemed to be standing on a pad of some sort. The part of the room he was in was at the lowest point. Stairs at the far center end of the depression led up to the first level, that seemed to have doors and hallways jutting off in different directions. More immediate to his eyes though, was the second floor above them. A pair of balconies were on each side of the room, and he looked to his right, as someone spoke.

"Now now, Ranger. There's no need for that. You are among friends, here."

Geralt's eyes widened, as he recognized Colress's voice. Then, he saw the man, a little older and wiser, a little grayer, but otherwise, exactly as he'd been the last time Geralt saw him, save that his suit seemed to have gotten upgraded at some point by technology he didn't recognize. "Doctor Colress...where the Muk am I?"

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At that moment, Ghost whined, but Geralt was still busy taking in the command center full of people in primarily gray outfits, differentiated only by triangular patches of color whose significance Geralt did not know, but seemed to indicate some sort of hierarchy based on color. Black was the most common, but red was also common, and some seemed to have tan versions of the full body suits. They looked sharp, and Geralt recognized hints of military in their design. The tan versions were fewer, and aside from stripes on the sleeves that matched whatever color the suit's patch was, they were uniformly plain overall.

The Ranger's enhanced sight made out one more thing. There were six black patched men standing on either side of the stairs leading out of the spot he'd been brought into, watching him intently. Each of them had a firearm of some description, and on their shoulders was a patch with an emblem he didn't recognize, but that he surmised was emblematic of whatever organization had just Teleported him here. There were no words on it, but he recognized an equine figure with its forelegs splitting a V shaped emblem, whose tips flared out into a pair of wings, almost making the horse look like a pegasus.

Finally, he noticed Colress in a room above them, as he turned to see what had drawn Ghost's attention, and instead of addressing him, Colress made his way down a staircase to the first level. What Geralt beheld, left him in awe. It was, in retrospect, very clearly the centerpiece of this command center. A massive, circular arch made of some kind of metal he wasn't familiar with. He lowered Srebro and Stahl as he took it in.

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The outermost edge of the massive metal ring was covered in Unown lettering that made no sense to his eyes and was unreadable. The inner part of the ring was covered in thirty-nine glyphs that, to his eyes, seemed based on constellations of stars, some vaguely familiar and others completely alien.

"Welcome to Lantea City, Geralt Redwood. You're currently in a city run by a group known as Pegasus." Colress said, from his left. "This city was created by an ancient race, or so we believe. Their technology was centuries ahead of anything we developed on Earth, even before Humanity's fall, and our inevitable rise. Currently, we're parked on the dark side of Luna, what Earthlings refer to more commonly as 'the Moon'. The inhabitants of our moon call it Luna, though."

Geralt blinked and looked at the Doctor. "You're saying we're in space right now? Why aren't we floating?"

Colress pushed his glasses up with his middle finger before he answered. "As I said, this city's technology is...bordering on magical, or rather, it was, before we understood it. We found a similar Gate on an expedition to the thawed southernmost continent on our planet, Atlantica. As it turns out, the locals of that region are descendants of the Humans who found this city before we did. At some point in our past, apparently, this city was in another Galaxy entirely, one their records refer to as the 'Pegasus Galaxy', the selfsame name of the expedition that traveled there. The Atlanticans let us study their gate decades ago, and it was your granduncle, Professor Gilroy Redwood, who managed to turn the damn thing on. It brought us here, and ever since, we've been working to restore power and functionality to the city. Someday, I want to make this city fly again. It can evidently function as a spaceship as well as a habitable city."

Geralt sheathed Stahl and Srebro on his back, as he looked around. "This is...a lot." He paused then, as he absorbed Colress's words. "Wait. He turned it on? ...How?"

Colress smirked at him, and Geralt felt a chill of destiny up his spine as the Doctor said, "By shoving a Rotom into it, of course."

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At that moment, the Gate powered on, spinning to life, as volatile blue plasma surged from its center, and then was drawn back within the bounds of the ring-like structure. A pair of angular ghostly eyes with round pupils smirked at him, with a face he recognized. "Dengeki? Is that you, you old spark?"

The face nodded, but as quickly as it appeared, it faded, looking to Geralt's keen eyes like Den had seen or noticed something that grabbed his attention away from conversing with him. The Gate fell silent, and Colress tutted in contemplation, before he walked up next to the Ranger. He put a hand on his shoulder and gave a kind smile. "I'm sure you have questions...come. Let's get some food at the Mess, and we can trade questions. We have a few for you, as well."

The Doctor led him through a maze of hallways then, until they came into a very basic cafeteria/buffet setup with surprisingly decent food. Seeing Colress load up on some steak and potatoes, Geralt helped himself to two slabs of steak, and a pile of mashed potatoes he'd mixed with corn and peas. Colress stared at his pile of food as they sat. "I take it your body needs a lot to keep it going, now."

"You have no idea…" Geralt mumbled, as he began to chow down. After a few bites, he slowed, chewed, and then finally asked a question. "So... Pegasus, eh? Just like the expedition. What do you people do up here, exactly? Aside from kidnap people on vacation."

"We monitor the planet. A few decades ago, the people at Interpol contacted the Ranger Union, and Professors the world over with the information around the discovery in Atlantica that included your uncle. They agreed to form a secret, but unified organization dedicated to mitigating the damage of rampaging Pokémon, and those who upset their balance. This wasn't long after the Rainbow Rocket incident, so the idea was popular, in the face of multiple gangs from multiple regions potentially forming together again." Colress paused to eat some of his own meal, before continuing. "So, Geralt. You received an interesting phone call a few minutes ago. Why is someone from the Imperium's Obsidian Keep calling your Holoceiver?"

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"It's none of your damn business who has my number. All you need to know is that on the other end of that call, people are in danger. Good people, that I care about. Lucky for me...Pegasus can help me rescue them." Geralt said, looking around. "Just beam them up, like you did to me."

Colress shook his head. "It's not that simple...there's the matter of power to consider, and then there's the issue with them being in Imperium territory. We can't beam up psychic Humans when they sense us coming, for some reason, and the Imperium uses their enhanced Librarians, or Imperium-sanctioned psychics, to shield their territory from our efforts. Or, at least the areas they don't want us reaching."

"And the Obsidian Keep is one of those places. Of course it is. Muk." Geralt proceeded to rage-eat as he thought over ways to get to Triss, and presumably Ciri, as quickly as possible. Then, he perked up. "Cn oo een p th all?"

Colress nonchalantly sipped his iced tea-lemonade. "There's food in your mouth, Ranger."

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Geralt growled, and rage-chewed, thankfully with his mouth closed, and swallowed. "The call. Can you play it back and clean it up?"

Colress tilted his head, then nodded. "There should be a record that Interpol can use. We'd need your express permission and your device, though."

Geralt looked at him, with an emotionless intensity in his warped frosty blue eyes. "You have them." He shoved the device he barely used at the man, who accessed it with his suit as he ate with his other hand.

A moment later, the voice of his wayward psychic lover filled the immediate space. "Geralt. It's Triss. I'm outside the Obsidian Keep. Ciri is with me. We can't stay here anymore. There's not much time. You have to help us. We'll meet at the lodge in the mountai-" Her voice cut out as his own overrode her words with useless attempts to hear her.

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Colress finished his potatoes as they listened, took a few more bites of dinner, and then stood up. "We can act on this, but only if I have your word as Top Ranger that these two will comply with our rules. They won't be able to leave, once they're here. Even your vouching for them has limits, Ranger."

Geralt was already moving towards the command center they'd just come from. "Nowhere on Earth is safe for them, if Ciri is as important as she seems. Keep them from learning where this base is. Then you can beam them back without them being any wiser."

Colress nodded, and soon, they were back where Geralt had arrived. His tone was full of authority as he spoke. "Power up the Teleporter. Shutter all windows and form a perimeter around the Gate Room. Lower the curtain and start scanning the Mediterra mountains for two powerful psychic entities. Try rapid beaming once you find them, don't let them block us."

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Geralt sat in suspense for about five minutes as the technicians spouted technobabble and attempted to teleport the ladies to safety. A massive sheet fell in front of the Gate that Geralt hadn't had time to even ask about yet. The faint light of space and the celestial display of the stars was shuttered, and the only light became that of the fluorescent fixtures around the command center.

Many people either raised similar shutters on the glass surrounding their desks or left the area to continue their work in parts of the city designated for it. Working near the Gate was useful, as one could requisition whatever one needed when they made the connection with Atlantica back on Earth.

"They're coming in hot!"

The technician's voice rang out, and everyone but Geralt left the gate area. "Srebro. Stahl." His swords leapt into his hand as the blue light heralding the ladies' arrival glowed brighter, and Geralt carved an elongated lower-case E in the air with his swords as they appeared. They came in with flames, undoubtedly from Triss, and just in time for the Flamethrower, Geralt's sign manifested a golden shield that kept him protected from the flames. "Triss! Stop! It's me!"

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The flames died down, and the lights came back on. Most of the gate area was singed, save for the curtain hiding the monolithic portal gate. Evidently, it wasn't flammable. "Geralt!" Triss ran to him, hugged him, and then looked around at their surroundings, as the security guards and Colress slowly rose from their hiding places. "Where...where are we? I don't sense-"

"Don't worry about where we are, Triss." He said, tapping his nose. "It's a secret Ranger base. That's all you need to know. Not even the Imperator can find you here." Ciri followed Triss's lead with a hug of her own, and Geralt's stone-face broke a smile, for her. "Hey, kid."

"I'm twenty-seven, old man." She muttered snarkily, but her smile gave away how glad she was to see him. Though, it slowly shifted to a frown, as she noted certain changes. "By the Throne...Triss told me they'd mutated you, but…"

"I'm afraid I'm responsible for mutating your handsome Ranger friend, Miss Ciri." Colress said, coming down the stairs to their level, arms wide, open, and empty. "I dreamed of creating the ultimate expression of the power Humans and Pokémon can achieve...I'd say I succeeded. Right now, I'm in command of this installation. My name is Colress. Your Ranger friend here is, by far, my greatest success. Or, one of them, anyway." It wasn't all flattery, for Colress was of the opinion that only Grief and Geralt had truly succeeded in becoming what he'd set out to create. Levhart was too self-centered and aloof almost to the point of being uncaring, and Bjorn was an isolationist who preferred to live and survive on his own, rather than help humans. It was a waste of a Ranger with his potential, only guarding a specific group of Pokémon in a tiny part of the world, but Bjorn had found his happiness, and the IRF refused to pry him from it with no reason.

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"That reminds me…" Geralt growled. "We need to talk about Echis…"

"Yes yes." Colress said, waving a hand. "We can do that once we've debriefed your friends here."

Geralt seemed unsatisfied, as he pulled away from the women's embrace. "We also need to talk about the you-know-what." He gave an almost imperceptible nod at the curtain behind them.

Colress sighed. "That conversation...is best had with your cousin here, Geralt. He's grown too powerful for us to Teleport in randomly."

"Fine. Where is he? I'll get him." Geralt said, sheathing his Doublade again. Alex was one of his more tolerable family members, in that he didn't judge his mutations, and was practical enough to follow Geralt where he needed, on naught but his word.

"It's not that simple…" Colress said, chuckling. "Let us retire to my office. I'm sure these lovely ladies have a tale to spin. Then we'll speak of your cousin."

Ciri and Triss looked between Geralt and the strangely garbed man, before following him and Geralt presumably towards his office.

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