“Gooood morning, George!”

The Oshawott got up and rubbed his eyes. “Nghh, good morning Allora.” ‘Please let me roll back over.’

“I decided to wake you up early today! We’ve got a surprise planned for you.”

“Surprise? Tell me something new, you’ve been ‘surprising’ me all week long,” George replied, frowning. ‘God almighty, it’s been a whole week already.’

Allora put a flipper up beside her head. The bag slung over her shoulder swung and bounced off the wall; she quickly smacked it back aside.. She looked less like a mentor and more like a student asking the mentor a question.

“Oh yes, but this is extra special, promise! It won’t just be your typical training session, oh no no no no, this is something you will enjoy as well. Not just enjoy, but find very useful in the future!”

George got up and brushed the straws off his fur. The base had a clean bed policy: Every three days, all beds were refreshed with new straws. George hated it. Fresh straws always got tangled in his fur. Morning itchiness was a key part of Alliance life, apparently, and he just had to suck it up and deal with it.

“Alright then. What’s the surprise gonna be?” ‘More training? That much is clear.’

“Well that would just ruin the surprise, won’t it?” Allora said, wildy seesawing her head back and forth every second word. George bit his cheek out of feigned nervousness that anyone could sniff out. Anyone was underselling it, given how stale the air was. Nothing but hay and damp rocks, not a trace of funky smelling Oshawott anywhere. Not the kind of smell you’d want to sleep in. If anything, the smell got George to bite his cheek more than anything else.

‘Yeah. Definitely more training.’

He scratched his cheek, then stretched. “Can you give me a hint?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see after breakfast!” Allora replied.

George furrowed his brow. “Not even a small hint? Like, anything to point me in the right direction? Hot or cold?”

“Nope!” The Carracosta said with a smile that didn’t yield. The Oshawott sighed in reply.

“Can you tell me what we’re having for breakfast, in that case?”

“Nnnope!”

George was now stomping his feet as well. “Why not?” he groaned. Allora chuckled at him.

“Hahaha, let me tell you something, George. Life is best when it’s like a box of chocolates! You don’t know exactly what you’re getting, and that’s fantastic! Means you’ll always be pleasantly surprised for whatever’s on the horizon! And well, I don’t actually know what’s for breakfast in the morning. Or for dinner. Or for lunch too, actually, hehehe.”

While Allora sheepishly rubbed the back of her head with a flipper, George pressed his fingers into his mouth and put on a happy face.

‘It’s gonna be one of those days, isn’t it. Yeah. Good news is that I’ve got some experience under my belt. Or fur. Do Pokemon even wear belts?’

* * *

Breakfast that morning was a hodgepodge of berries smooshed into a bowl, their juices intermingling into a sweet mess. There was no discernible taste except ‘sweet’. Quantity over quality was the modus operandi for the cooks here, which wasn’t too surprising for George, given the amount of Pokemon demanding food. The whole lobby of the water environment was filled. Every wide space and pond had a group of at least five waiting, and some of the paths had also been occupied. And that wasn’t even everyone. Combined with the varying portion sizes, of course the cooks would just go for what works.

Still, it all felt so soulless. George felt more and more drained every morning, seeing the slop he’d have to chow down. Sure, the fosters’ home served similar, but he’d seen a better world. He missed Nera and her cooking. She always put so much love into everything. For her husband, her son, even a complete stranger like him.

By the time he and Allora were done and on their way, George had pinched himself all over. An Oshawott’s tail was rather sensitive, it turned out. That was the spot to aim for when dealing with excessive emotions. Just like the underbelly back when he was a human.

The scent of iron filled his nose as Allora took him through the base’s main corridors. “Well well, soon we’ll be there, George! Ate well?”

“Yeah. You already asked.” ’

“Oh yes, but I wanted to ask again. You look kind of under the weather.”

George turned his head up. His facial fur was a little soggy. “Pardon me?”

Allora’s eyes widened. “Oh my, you don’t look so good at all. Are you okay? You didn’t get food poisoning, did you?

“I feel fine, honest,” George said, his voice as dull as an unsharpened seamitar.

“Are you sure? It’s my job to take care of you George, remember?' Allora reminded in a motherly tone. “You can tell me anything, trust me. I would highly appreciate hearing what’s on your mind, or how you feel. Your secrets are safe with me.”

George bit his tongue. ‘We’re out in public. We don’t know each other.’ “I-it’s nothing. I’m just used to eating different kinds of food, that’s all. Takes a while to get used to this stuff.” ‘Takes a while for anyone to get used to this.'

The Carracosta’s smile returned. “Oh, that is fine to hear! Yeah, took me a while to get used to how the cooks prepare the food, but don’t worry! You’ll start earning your own shillings once the training’s done, and then you can buy food more to your liking if that’s what you’d prefer,” she said.

“Shillings?” George asked.

“Money! We Alliance folk work and live together, so we pay each other what we’re worth. The harder you work, the more you get, so there’s always incentive to do your best.” Allora said. “Aside from freeing our homeland of course, hahaha!”

Hehehe, yeah…” George chuckled with a sour face. ‘Why did no one tell me this earlier?’

* * *

Some ten minutes later, Allora stopped in front of a strange entryway. It stuck out like a sore thumb, even on the sore hand that was the underground base. The rocks and metal plates gave way to bronze blocks that had a pattern carved into them. Runes, or characters of some kind, given how a layer of luminescent blue paint had been slathered inside the carved spots. Even stranger was how the carvings guided attention into the halls beyond, as if they were actively trying to steer you in.

“Here we are, George-”

“And ‘ere we are, Blit- Oh! Allora! And George!”

Heads turned: George and Allora’s fiery counterparts had been one step behind. Literally. Allora laughed.

“Haha! We were here first, Porov! Right after you said you’d beat me to it the other day too!”

The Darmanitan laughed while swinging a fist at the air. His flaring eyebrows were quite the spectacle from up close: Not even Blitzer’s flames burned so hot. “Aah curse you, Allora me girl! We’ll get the two of ye some other day!”

“George!”

George had little time to look away before he was pulled into a hug. He squinted as his face was smooshed right into Blitzer’s cream colored chest. The Charmeleon held his whole body tight, nuzzling the fur on top of his head. George relented and threw his hands towards Blitzer’s shoulders, smiling all the while.

‘Wait till I evolve, you red dope!’

“It’s been too long!” Blitzer said, loud enough to attract attention from a Breloom shopkeeper at a nearby stall, who muttered something about ‘ruby idiots’. Porov turned his head to flash his furrowing brow in response.

“Yeah! Like three days or so!” ‘Which felt like three entire weeks!’ “Has Porov been keeping you busy?”

“Absolutely! Gave me a whole giant lecture about fire breathing, ‘cause apparently I was sloppy,” Blitzer told George while holding onto him like a plushie. “What about you?”

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

‘Sounds like he’s doing a good job then, ha.’ George blinked a few times while struggling in Blitzer’s grip. “The same, pretty much. Been getting a whole bunch of exercises to improve my stamina, because just fifteen seconds of spitting water isn’t going to cut it. Got some swimming exercises, some running too, target practice, had to swing the silly scalchop around for the first time… oof.” ‘You know Blitzer, your claws are pretty heavy.’

“Hahaha, that scalchop ain’t silly, George! That’s your life right there!” Allora said from behind. She waved her flipper around, even though George wasn’t looking at her. “But you shouldn’t worry, we’ll get you to where you need to be in no time! I’m already so proud of you after just a week!”

“An’ I’m so proud of me boy Blitzer as well!” Porov added. “Son, yer doin’ great! Gettin’ real good at breathin’ fire after just a lil’ while, and yer no slouch in a melee either! But eh, mind if ye put the laddie down?”

At first Blitzer smiled like he’d been hearing from his parents when Porov spoke. That went away pretty quickly towards the end. “Huh? George doesn’t- eh?”

George was frowning right into Blitzer’s eyes. “Yeah. Put me down, please. I can’t breathe.”

Porov waved a finger in circles towards George. “‘Ey, remember to be considerate! We fire folk like our energy, but ye gotta keep a good grip on yerself!”

Blitzer bit his tongue in response, causing George to reel back as much as he could while being set down. Charmeleon fangs weren’t pleasant to see from up close.

“Oh yeah, sorry about that, George.”

George shook his head. “It’s okay, it’s been a while. Be more careful next time, though.” ‘Evolution can’t come soon enough.’

Allora loudly cleared her throat. Some passersby made a wide swing around her when she did. “Ahem! Well then, we’re both here, and that’s perfect. This is a place both of you will be getting plenty familiar with in the coming months. Come on in!”

Porov and Allora led the way forward. The room and its strange blocks glowed as the four of them passed; George watched as a blue glow went up the carves and grooves in the blocks, and softly clicked his tongue out of instinct. There was a strange energy in the air that couldn’t be deciphered, other than it being a connection. It felt as if someone was breathing down his neck, yet that someone was doing it from miles away. A group of Pokemon left the room as they entered, yet they weren’t the ones responsible, George could tell that much. No other Pokemon’s breath felt this warm, yet cold at the same time. This presence was foreign, ethereal. Observable, yet forever a mystery.

“Aaaahem! Len! We’ve got the Othersider here!”

The Lurantis in question was leaning against the far wall. His eyes flew open as his name reverberated through the hall, past the pedestals standing tall in a rectangular grid. Using his scythes, he threw himself forward, then ran towards the guests with both scythes behind his back. Despite having met him before, George and Blitzer both gulped on his approach. Without a word, they shuffled towards each other, finding comfort in the other’s company.

“Ah yes. Blitzer, and Othersider… Jor-je, was it,” Len chittered. The two in question groaned at the same time.

“George.”

Len tapped an antenna with one scythe. “Geor-ge… George. Hm. That name will forever be strange. Oh well, plenty of time to learn, isn’t there?”

“Ah yeh!” Porov grumbled. Len chittered in approval.

“Yes, yes, most certainly. Most certainly a lot of time to learn while I keep the watch over the teleportation pads, since you will be using these frequently enough anyhow. That is what you would be here for, any other reason makes no sense. Aside from guarding. Which is my job. Not anyone else’s.”

“But you were at the front door a week ago, right? Doesn’t that mean you’re not doing this alone?” Blitzer wondered out loud.

“Negative, negative. I am a solo Pokemon. Keeping guard of the teleportation pads is my duty.”

Allora laughed. “Hey Len, you haven’t forgotten that we call this the Main Link, have you?”

Len shook his head vigorously. “Negative, negative! I say teleportation pads as that is more practical. That is what this room is. Easier for our new guests to understand. And no, I work alone. Was asked to guard an entrance because the regular guard was sick, that is all.”

“Wait, then who was keeping this room secure?” Blitzer asked, scratching the side of his face. The tip of his tail twitched with curiosity. “I mean, this is a room full of… teleporters? That’s just, wow, that’s a big deal! Teleporters aren’t supposed to be real, yet here they are!”

“Not my responsibility. I was asked to guard the tree entrance. That is all I know,” Len deadpanned.

George folded his arms. He didn’t buy what Len was saying, but had no reason to doubt him, either. Far stranger than one guy being shuffled around was the whole concept of teleporters. Teleporting wasn’t even physically possible, yet here they were, talking about it as casually as one talked about their lunch.

“Excuse me. Why are we talking about teleporters? They only exist in crazy books, right?”

Len and Porov looked confused at the comment. George could practically draw the question marks over their heads. Allora waddled right in front of George, waving a flipper for attention.

“Haha, that’s because only the Alliance knows how to make and use teleporter pads!” the Carracosta said. “They’re a closely guarded secret. No one outside of this base knows we have these, not even the Crest gets it. That’s how we’ve managed to stay at it for so long!”

Blitzer chirped. “Psychic Pokemon can teleport a bit, I know that much. Didn’t Terez do something like that on our way here?”

George nodded. “Something like that, yeah. She put down an illusion, then teleported to not leave any footprints behind.”

“Indeed,” hissed Len. His voice was akin to reeds stirring in the wind. “Psychics are capable of teleporting, but nothing of this magnitude. The strongest among them may only teleport themselves some three field lengths, or thirty tree lengths in any direction. No one else. These pads are much stronger. They require no energy, and can teleport anyone who simply stands on them. And best of all, they are not limited in range. As long as they connect to another point in Eravate, they can send you there.”

One of the nearby pedestals suddenly droned a bass. Blue energy congealed in the air above, then a flash struck the room for a split second. Moments later, a Sandslash hopped off the pedestal, waving at Len and his guests before heading towards the base. Len waved back, before launching into several anecdotes on how the teleporters work.

George wasn’t paying attention to anything the Lurantis said anymore, however. The pedestals spoke for themselves: The impossible made possible. But how? Why hadn’t any human figured this out before? His eyes and ears weren’t playing any tricks, yet the mystery remained undecipherable.

‘This world truly isn’t anything like home, is it? No matter how familiar it looks, nothing makes sense. The talking Pokemon, now teleporters… Supposedly, this isn’t possible in the whole universe. Wouldn’t be the first lie I’ve been told in school.’ George squeezed his fists tight. ‘Why I’m still getting upset over this is beyond me, but damn it! My whole life really has been one big lie after another. One punch after another…‘

“...and there you have it. The genius of the Alliance, explained by yours truly.”

“‘Ey. Don’t act like ye knew it all already, ‘cause you had t’be told like us,” Porov lectured with a wink.

“My duty involves explaining the workings of the pads,” Len retorted. Porov leaned forward on his fists.

“No need for any chips on yer shoulders though, grassie.”

“Grassie?!” Len hissed

“...Grassie?” George raised an eye as Blitzer hid behind his back. He heard the Charmeleon struggle to keep his laughter in check, and his tail fell right on the floor. ‘Oh. That’s an insult for grass types, isn’t it. I’ve got no comment.’

“Yeh, ye grassies an’ farries are all pompous all the time, like ye know everythin’ better.”

“I am not!” Len stomped his feet. A beetle would’ve done a better job at intimidating.

Allora got in between the two. “Guys, guys, let’s not start an argument here, yes? What if someone else walks in here and sees you two arguing over nothing? That wouldn’t be right. We don’t want this to end with someone getting their head bitten off, do we?”

Len shirked back wide eyed; Porov leaned back on his fists. “Ah yes, err, Allora.”

The Carracosta smiled. “Perfect! I’m glad to see we’re not stooping to the levels of ferals, yes? Arguments are very silly, aren’t they?” she said, in an overly innocent tone.

“Yeh,” Porov whispered.

George grimaced as he backed a step away, going no further due to Blitzer being right behind him. The way Allora spoke had brought back memories he’d rather have kept dead and buried.

‘This is how the headmistress always kept us at bay... That thief of a cleaner too…’

Allora looked around, then tilted her head in confusion. George couldn’t tell if she was feigning it. “Well now, don’t be all shy all of a sudden! The fight’s over, and we’ve still got a bunch of the day left! C’mere Georgie, and Blizzie too! Hahahah!” she chortled. Her belly jiggled around like jelly as she laughed; even her armoured bits were shaking back and forth.

“Haah!” Blitzer almost doubled over laughing, his tail flopping into the floor. His laughs were contagious; Butterfrees were flapping their wings in George’s stomach.

‘C’mon, this isn’t funny! This isn’t funny, Geeeooorrge!’ “Ha!”

“What’s the matter, marvelling at the sight of a big girl?” Allora added right after, leaning forward with a dumb grin plastered on her face. It was like throwing gasoline onto the fire. All four guys present were busting a gut, and Allora was all too happy to join in on it herself.

A few minutes later, when most of the laughter subsided, Porov finally gave his word, and off they moved. While Blitzer and Allora were still somewhat giddy, the faint amounts of laughing coming from George had hit an end. The joke had run its course, and it was time to get back to business. They were using a teleporter, that much was clear. Why would Allora and Porov bring them to this hallotherwise? Still, this was the first time, and there was no telling what would happen the moment he’d step on the pad. He took in a deep breath of dusty air as they moved along the grid.

“Well, ‘ere we are. X marks the spot, right?” Porov elbowed Allora on the leg as they stopped near a teleporter in the bottom right quadrant of the hall. Next to it stood a small wooden sign with ‘Mountainshade - Agate & Training Camp'' scribbled onto it in chalk, sort of like the entrance to a Mystery Dungeon.

Allora threw her flippers in the air. “Indeed! This is the spot alright. We’re taking those two for some special training outside of this base!”

“O-outside this base?” Blitzer stuttered, George saying the same minus the stutter right after. The Oshawott was sceptical.

‘I thought nothing outside here was safe.’

“I take it that my job here is done?” Len asked.

“Certainly! Thanks as always, Len! And remember, Eh- hm.” Allora tapped her chin. “Oops. Brain fart, hah! Thanks for the good work Len, see you around!”

The Lurantis bowed before sauntering off to patrol the room without so much as a goodbye. Allora put one of her feet up the pedestal, then turned back.

“Well then, Blizzie? What were you saying?”

Blitzer blushed at the way Allora mangled his name. “Well, ehh, what do you mean, outside this base? It’s uh, it’s dangerous there, isn’t it?”

Allora audibly mashed her teeth in an affirming manner. “On paper, yes! In actuality, we’ve got plenty of people who like us out there, remember? Those friends keep this network running, and keep the Crest away from our operations. This town we’re going to, Mountainshade? There’s a low number of Soldiers there, and there’s plenty of us. Perfect for doing just the things we want, like give you a taste of the outside world! Why don’t we give the place a look, yes?”

Blitzer nodded, his tail flicking up and down behind him. “Sure!”

“Well me boys,” Porov said as went up the pedestal. “First time teleportin’ ain’t no joke! Can speak from experience ‘bout that! But don’t ye worry, it ain’t no biggie once ye done it a few times. Ya feel funny for a while, then yer there. ‘S about it.” He stepped on the pad. “See ye there!”

Porov had a big toothy grin on his face as his feet pressed down the pad. George bit his lip as the low hum crept into his ears, and the energy manifested around Porov. The Darmanitan’s red body suddenly turned a solid blue. With the speed of a storm wind, his body evaporated into energy, and gone he was.

“Okay! Who wants to go next?” Allora tapped her chin; she’d already decided before either of the two trainees volunteered. “George?”

“Eh?!” George’s mouth fell open.

“Why don’t you go next?”

George grimaced. “Do you really want me to go? I… I don’t want to.”

Allora tilted her head. “Why not?”

“Doesn’t this look dangerous to you? Look at it!” George stuck his hand out towards the pad. “You literally vanish into thin air the moment you step on it, get sent off to god knows where, and I can only begin to guess what it’ll feel like. Horribly painful, for starters. And besides, how does this even work? A million different things can go wrong here!”

The Carracosta tugged on her black scarf with her flipper, revealing a golden trident. “I’m not the right person to ask that. We’ve got others in the Alliance who are-”

“So you don’t know?” George asked. Allora sighed.

“No one really does, but it does work at the end of the day. Porov’s waiting on us. We should go-”

“So you’re all stepping into this yet you don’t even know if it works? Are you crazy, that’s-”

“I’ll go!” Blitzer shouted. “Please, don’t argue, okay! It works, I believe you!”

The Charmeleon wandered past, tail swinging up and down in visible excitement. Allora blushed at him as he walked past. The air shot out of George’s lungs. He rushed ahead, desperate to pull him away from the cliff he was about to fall off.

“B-Blitzer!! Don’t!”

“GEORGE! STOP!”

Seeing Allora was about to intervene, George leapt. The last thing he saw was Blitzer’s face, before the humming started. Before both of their bodies turned blue, and vanished. From the tips of his ears to his toes, his body turned into liquid energy. His vision was gone, his senses were being touched from all sides, and all discernible was the wind howling from below, like screams erupting from a valley of darkness.

Then, darkness, followed by pain. For his body was solid. And he had just flown face first into a wall.

“Ooow!”

“Owowowow!”

“Whaaaa?! K-kiddos, whaddye-”

George slid against a wooden surface towards the ground, dropping onto his back the second his feet touched the ground, the flap of his scarf flopping onto his face right after. His ears were ringing, his fur was itchy, and his mouth tasted like sand for reasons he didn’t want to guess. He licked the scarf, then rolled onto his side. Slouched against the wall was Blitzer, staring annoyedly ahead of him.

“Yeah. Let’s not do that again.”

George frowned as he bit his lip. ‘Agreed.’