Parugi

IC - Kyle Eston/Sonja Baron/Levi Alaric - Cafeteria, The Alamo: Sonja nodded. "I did, and I'm going," she said. "I'm not sitting back anymore." "That's the spirit," Kyle said, not looking up from the computer. "They just downed the two Magnemite-lookalikes." "Ironically," Sonja continued, glancing down at the screen. "Those may not have even been Magnemite to begin with." She looked back at Ryan. "Hayes didn't have much of anything to offer, but Mewthree did." She pulled a notebook out of her bag. "Here's the run-down: Missing Zero absorbs materials--inanimate and animate--in order to create its agents. Pokémon that are absorbed become single-type units even if they have two types upon being absorbed. If that is the case, they are turned into two single-type units matching their original types. So all of Pryce's Pokémon that were Water- and Ice-Type upon being absorbed each got turned into two agents--a Water-Type and an Ice-Type. That's why there was so little variety when it first attacked in the egg." "Wait, when did Pryce run into this thing?" Kyle asked. "I thought he was missing?" "Long story," Sonja said dismissively. "The biggest point about it is that it's Pryce's fault this thing had any units to begin with. That's what Ethan seemed to think, anyway." She shook her head. "Regardless--Mewthree didn't encounter any Dual-Type agents, but it did sense entities that may have been Ghost-Normal-Type, which it says may have been created from absorbed people. Types that it did encounter were Ice, Water, Ground, Ghost, and Psychic." She flipped her notebook closed. "That's basically everything. Hayes just wanted us to get her out of prison." "What did you say?" Kyle asked. "That even if I wanted to, I wouldn't help her," Sonja said. "They dragged us into this mess and didn't have an effective plan to stop it, so I figure there isn't really much point in relying on them for anything but information." She shrugged. "Maybe I'll feel differently later. But in any case, it's up to Team Liberty as to when they get out, not me." She looked at Ryan. "That aside . . . Your message to me looked like it was missing something--you said Ford gave you a list of some kind, but I didn't see it. Mind if I have a look?" IC - Goldhawk/Sleight/Esen Windred/Skye Hall/Jackson Sang - Kotahi Village, One Island: "I'm getting some movement readings, but I don't think any of them are people," Sang said. He had arrived just behind Ava and Theodore alongside the rest of the squad. "Looks like the village is empty." Goldhawk nodded. "Kotahi Village received an emergency notice as soon as Missing Zero's presence was detected," he confirmed. "Unless it emerges on another part of the island from the ocean, our objective will be to ensure that it doesn't spread past here until we've received confirmation that the rest of the island is clear." "How long might that take?" Skye asked. "At most, six hours," Goldhawk said. "If all goes well, maybe four." "That's a long time to fight . . ." Sleight muttered. "Can these Suits operate that long?" "They're going to have to," Goldhawk said. He approached one of the miniature craters in the ground, standing beside Jayron. He glowered at the Instances. As an Electric-Type specialist himself, these things were a complete insult to the very creatures he had worked so hard to understand. "Windred, report." Esen jumped, having retreated into her thoughts. "Right," Esen said, giving herself a little shake. She looked at Jayron. "They weren't that difficult. The Ice-Type Suit managed to sever its umbilical cord and strike it in a weak point. Likewise with the Grass-Type--it cut the cord enough that I was able to finish severing it, and it's been down since then." "So, that confirms the cords are a weak point," Sleight said. "Perhaps the other types each have additional weaknesses, as well." "Looks like we'll get to find out soon," Sang said. He pointed south. "Three targets moving this way, fast."

IC - Kyle Eston/Levi Alaric - Cafeteria, The Alamo: Kyle offered an appreciative smile to Chloe, before looking back to Ryan and Xander. "There's no way I'm staying here while you all go off and knock the Signs around a little," he said. "So I'm with you as far as Kalos goes. The thing is, I don't know where we would even begin to find anything in the city about this, or if they're even still transporting Pokémon here now that Team Liberty knows about it." He shook his head. "For all we know, Team Liberty could be the ones that they're poaching for . . ." He paused, straightening up. "Wait. Victoire said that the Signs were following us in Dendemille because Shift thought we were there to meet him. Which means that he must have known someone was coming from Four Island." Kyle frowned. "But that still doesn't tell us anything . . ." "Maybe that's something we should leave to someone else." Sonja had appeared, apparently arriving early enough to have gathered enough context for the conversation. She offered a brief wave to everyone before sitting down near Levi and Ellen. "I got your message." She nodded at Kyle's computer. "Poaching Pokémon seems a little less important than this, doesn't it? Or investigating Ford's base, for that matter." "I guess," he said. "It's still important, though. There's no point fighting something that literally eats Pokémon if we're just going to let people metaphorically eat them." Kyle directed his attention back to the screen. Esen had fallen into conflict with something--Magnemite-like creatures. He tensed as he watched the chaos through Esen's eyes, cutting through the air in her attempts to evade them. "Looks like the fighting's started." IC - Esen Windred/Goldhawk/Sleight/Skye Hall/Jackson Sang - Kotahi Village, One Island: The air crackling behind her prompted Esen to duck. It was lucky that she did: Another Thunderbolt shot past her a second later, exploding against the side of a building. Not good enough. Her radar indicated she was close; nearby, she picked up readings from other Suits, confirming that they had landed. Esen leaned forward, directing Krow toward them. As they broke out from between the streets and into a more open area, Esen saw two individuals approaching, which her HUD identified as the Ice- and Grass-Type Suits. She readied herself, pulling out Krow's Poké Ball. Behind her, the two Instances prepared for another attack. With a short count to three, Esen returned Krow, dropping herself to the ground, where she slid to a halt. The move could not have happened at a better time: Immediately, one of the Instances was engulfed in a Razor Leaf attack, and the other bombarded by Ice Shard attacks. Both spun out of control on their flight path, crashing into nearby houses and bouncing down into the streets. Esen waved to Ray and Lucia, signaling her thanks as she ran forward to meet them. "Approaching craters," she called over her comm. "Be prepared--they may not be down for the count yet." As it happened, one wasn't. Though clearly damaged, the Instance that Lucia had targeted was already beginning to pick itself up by the time Esen reached them. Its umbilical cord appeared to be heavily damaged, and it issued haphazard sparks from the blue line along the top of its body. The other Instance remained motionless on the ground, its cord severed by Ray's Ice Shard and another blade of ice wedged straight through one side and other the other. Bringing her hand forward, Esen took aim, launching an Air Cutter attack at the former. The blade of air sliced the rest of the way through its cord, causing it to elicit an electronic shriek before collapsing to the ground, where it continued its feeble attempts to rise. "Targets down." "Good work, everyone," Sleight called. "All choppers are successfully landed and all units are ground-bound." "We're en route to your location, EP-3. Stay put for now. ETA five minutes," Goldhawk said. "EO-2, EP-1, cover remaining distance between yourselves and EP-3 and standby until we arrive." "Understood, sir," Esen replied. Shutting off her comm, she finally allowed herself to breathe. That was certainly a way to enter the mission. Not her ideal way, but a way. Turning to the downed Instances, she stooped lower to inspect them, frowning. "Head's up, LP-3, TC-1: Both specimen appear to be intact enough for a return to base." "Roger that, EP-3," Goldhawk responded, stepping out of his helicopter after Theodore and Ava. "Set markers for pick-up." He waved to the pilot. "We'll radio as soon as we're ready to go. Keep us informed of any changes over here, including any emergency departures." "Will do, sir." Goldhawk offered a thumbs up. He clicked on his comm again. "Entry Guard and Valley Watch, move into suitable position for beachside support--we'll be doing most of our fighting over there." "Affirmative. Moving out." As the groups of snipers headed off into the city, Goldhawk joined the rest of the Power Suit squad on their trek toward Esen, Ray, and Lucia's destination. Every now and then his HUD would light up with information on buffs activated by his allies. Taking note of this, Goldhawk activated the T-04's Charge attack. It wasn't much more than a Special Defense boost, but that would still be useful in a fight. Nearby, Skye and Sleight both activated different moves within their own armor--Quiver Dance and Rock Polish, preemptively improving their abilities. "Everyone, keep an eye out," Goldhawk called. "We don't want these things sneaking up on us." "Affirmative, sir," Sang responded. He cranked up his seismic sensors, increasing their range. "I've got the floor covered. Nothing so far." "Let's hope it stays that way until we regroup with the others," Sleight said.

IC - Kyle Eston/Levi Alaric - Cafeteria, The Alamo: Once Richie disappeared through the cafeteria doors, Kyle opened his laptop again. "I know," he said. "It's just not that great of an idea to talk about the Signs around him, considering I barely made it out of my last run in with them." After reestablishing the feed with the various Power Suits, then seeing that they were still inbound toward their destination and thus not doing anything of note, Kyle pulled up a document. "Lucky for you, I save copies of my reports. I'll send this to you." He sent it off to the address listed for Xander in the Liberty messaging system. With a sigh, he leaned back. "Was that your dad, Mr. Kyle?" Levi asked. ". . . Yeah," Kyle said. "His name is Richie." Levi nodded. Kyle looked back to Xander. "Where to start . . ." He rubbed his head. "I stumbled on them in some windmills that were supposed to be abandoned. They were poaching Pokémon, and that's where they held them to be transported. I freed the Noibat that they were holding, and then one of them--Shift--used some sort of device that forced my Pokémon back into their Poké Balls before hitting me with a taser. When I woke up, I was in a warehouse with a woman named Victoire. Shift was angry with me for intruding on their work. In retaliation, he poisoned me with some sort of hallucinogenic--I think he called it 'fear.'" Kyle's eyes dropped to the table, where he gripped his hands together to stop them from shaking. "Everything after that first dose is a huge blur. I just know that Victoire managed to take down Shift and get us into the main body of the warehouse, where Esen and Cero had broken in and taken out the other Signs. At some point Esen got hit with fear, too, but she snapped out of it once we got to her." He frowned, raising his eyes to Xander again. "I'm sorry--that's really all I can remember. Except for . . ." He drummed his fingers on the table. "It might be nothing, but the Pokémon they were poaching were being shipped to Keturi City, which isn't very far from the Alamo. And I haven't heard anything about that since then." He shook his head. "Anyway . . . Like I said, the report I submitted has more information from Victoire and Esen. Once she gets back from Three Island, you might ask her . . ." He paused, looking back at the laptop. "If she comes back from Three Island . . ."

IC - Kenneth Kyro - Kotahi Village, One Island: Of all the times I could get called into work . . . Kenneth Kyro sighed. For the past few days, he and dozens of others had been assigned to assist in evacuations across the Sevii Islands. His scheduled break following the full evacuation of Three Island had been some of the most peaceful and relaxing that he had had in a while, even without proper Pokémon abilities--and thus battles--to fill his time. One Island, after all, was a hub for entertainment and pleasure, so for a future work assignment, it wasn't a bad place to kill time. If all had gone according to schedule, he would have spent four days on One Island without work, before gearing back up and joining in the evacuation efforts there, and then moving onto Five Island. Of course, he was an Agent of Team Liberty, which meant that nothing ever went according to schedule. Day two of his break had barely started, and he had already gotten halfway through a well-deserved massage when command had sent their emergency alert, calling for all available agents to provide emergency assistance to One Island's evacuation efforts. Just like that, his break came to an end, and he was back in his uniform, providing look-out duty on the island's southern beach. So far, his list of recorded responsibilities had grown to cover the following: Stand around in the blazing sun under heavy-duty gear.Test personal resolve by resisting the persistent threat of heatstroke.Stare at the ocean until eyes bleed.And so that is what he did, for the umpteenth time since the evacuations had started: Stand around, get really hot, and stare around. Occasionally, he would direct clueless civilians to their proper evacuation point, but Kotahi Village was so small that he was fairly certain he wouldn't have to do that at all, seeing as how the village had all but finished emptying out. At this point, it was a matter of double-checking housing and departure listings. In fact, he was so certain that he wouldn't need to direct anyone that when he actually did notice a figure on the beach, he initially wrote it off as a heat-induced mirage--perhaps a hallucination, but he felt that particular word implied he was losing his mind. When it did not go away after a few blinks, Kenneth dropped his shotgun to his side and pulled off his helmet, wiping his forehead and shielding his eyes from the sun. Now it was clear that there actually was someone standing out there, their bald head glistening in the sun as they, too, stared out at the sea from the very edge of the water, unmoving save for the rustling of their black suit in the wind. "Hey, buddy!" Kenneth called. "Evacuation zone is north of here--you're not going to find anything over there!" The figure did not respond. Kenneth sighed, not entirely surprised--more often than not, the sounds of the ocean obscured what he was actually saying, prompting most stragglers to dismiss the fact that he was yelling at them. That was why he had started carrying around another, more effective tool to complement his voice: A whistle, which he now pulled from his shirt and blew through. The shrill noise cut through the air around him, echoing in the distance. Still, the man did not response. What the heck are you doing, dude? Uneasy, but aware of what was expected of him, Kenneth replaced his helmet on his head and pulled up his shotgun. He began walking forward, and soon his boots no longer crunched along top of rocks, but sand. He pulled his shoulder walkie to his mouth, pressing it. "Captain Robins, this is Agent Kyro, approaching unresponsive figure on south beach," he muttered. "Possible Code Veronica." "Affirmed, Agent Kyro. Sending someone to assist." "Negative," Kenneth said. "Nearest additional unit is too far away to wait. I can handle it, Captain." "Support is already en route. ETA five minutes. Keep your guard up, Agent." "Roger that." Kenneth let his radio slip back into place. Gripping his shotgun, he slowed his approach. The figure stood a mere twenty feet away now, still unmoving. Perhaps their earlier appearance had been a distant trick of the light, but now that he was closer, Kenneth saw that it was not a bald man in a black suit, but a boy, bald and frail, clad in hospital scrubs. The sight of him sent a shiver down Kenneth's spine, bringing to light some unpleasant memories. With a stabilizing breath, he reluctantly pressed forward. "Captain, ignore that last call--it's a kid. Must've missed him in the chaos at the hospital." He stopped a short distance away from the child. "Hey," he called gently. The boy's head turned slightly, finally acknowledging his presence. "What are you doing out here? This area was supposed to be cleared out an hour ago--you shouldn't be here." He stepped forward, reaching a hand out. "C'mon--I'll show you where to go." Silently, the child nodded, and pushed himself to his feet. He muttered something. "What was that?" Kenneth asked. "I'm sorry--I couldn't hear you." "Thank . . . you . . . big . . . brother . . ." Kenneth's blood ran cold. "W-What?" The child turned around. Oh my God . . . Kenneth froze. This isn't possible . . . The child's face was nearly identical to Kenneth's own, save for slight variations in the nose and cheekbones. His eyes were the same shade of murky green, his jaw receded at nearly the same distance, his ears blending at the lobe in the exact same way--it was like looking into a camera and seeing the last vestiges of a memory brought back to life, all of the smudges and errors repaired by some miracle. "K-Kaleb . . ." Kenneth stammered. His whole body trembled, partially in fear and partially in stunned disbelief. "I-Is it r-really y-you . . .?" The boy took a step forward. "Really . . . you . . ." No . . . This isn't possible . . . His mind screamed at him, but the Liberty Agent couldn't move. How . . . How is he . . . "K-Kaleb," he managed to say. "Y-You're . . . d-d-dead . . ." His body quaked as he tried to raise his gun. "You . . . you s-shouldn't be . . . h-here . . ." "Here . . . Dead . . ." The child moved forward, shambling toward Kenneth. "Dead . . . Dead . . ." The closer he neared, the less clear Kaleb's features became, his eyes dimming into a soulless black before beginning to fade away entirely. Before Kenneth's very eyes, the phantom of his brother melted into a pale, towering, blank-faced figure, a return to form for what he had seen earlier. By the time he had worked up the nerve again to train his weapon on the target, it was too late: The creature had taken hold of him with its long, slimy hands, gripping either side of Kenneth's head. Between its arms and body, he caught a glimpse of something red trailing behind it from the back, and leading back into the ocean like a bloody snake. As he felt the bones begin to crack, Kenneth screamed, until there was nothing left to scream with. The creature stepped over his body and proceeded up the beach, toward the abandoned Kotahi Village. Behind it, a red mass emerged from the water, slowly expanding until a piece of itself had engulfed the bloody remains of Kenneth Kyro. IC - Kyle Eston/Levi Alaric - Cafeteria, The Alamo: The first tip-off to Richie's approach should have been Kyle nonchalantly closing and hiding his laptop after a quick glance over Xander's head, though Kyle could not blame him for not catching on. He offered a look to Xander, as if to say Relax, and then nodded back at Richie. "Yeah, everything's fine, Dad," he said. "Ford mentioned a few things about the Signs before we fought him in the Egg. We figured there might be a connection from when I ran into them in Kalos, but I really don't think it's anything to worry about--if there's any connection to be found, it'll be in the reports submitted after each mission." IC - Goldhawk/Sleight/Skye Hall/Esen Windred/Jackson Sang - Approaching One Island: Rearrangements had gone without a hitch, and afterwards Esen had positioned herself on Krow's back, figuring the help in flying might save her suit some energy for the coming battle. A tense atmosphere had overtaken the group, though no one said anything about it--at least not over comm. As she was not in a position to confirm that the choppers were equally silent, she had to trust that they were. Regardless of whether they now sat in silence or argued amongst themselves, one thing had made itself clear to her already: This ragtag group would not coordinate easily. She could have kicked herself for not seeing that coming earlier, but it was an oversight that she would have to keep in mind. It was one thing for her to keep an eye on her teammates, but if others amongst them would not do the same . . . Esen did not want to think about what might happen if the group fell apart now or on the field. She turned her attention to Goldhawk's helicopter. Why hadn't the Liberty Leader simply made a decision and stuck by it? Had that invitation to interject been an attempt to forge trust and cooperation amongst the squad? Or is he as lost as the rest of us? Esen looked forward again. Or maybe he's worn out from going and going for all these years . . . I guess I can't blame him . . . But if this is going to work, someone needs to be ready to direct us without hesitating--having eighteen voices pulling us in different directions is only going to get us killed, or worse . . . She sighed. For now, I'll just have to focus on doing my part . . . "All Agents, we have visual on One Island. Prepare for landing." Perfect timing. Esen gently squeezed Krow's feathers, urging him forward. The Honchkrow complied, bringing her up to speed with Tier Climb. With a quick exchange between herself and Executive Arthur, Esen descended, taking her place below the helicopter. "Alright, Krow," she muttered, bringing a hand to her helmet and zooming in her vision. "Let's see what we're getting ourselves into . . ." As they neared One Island, the situation became clearer. Roughly half of the islet to the south of One Island's mainland shimmered with a strange, pulsing red--Missing Zero. It seemed to have taken over the entire east coast already, and had begun to spread along the southern side. The main island fared better, at least for the moment: While the southern beach had begun to disappear, and the channel of water between the two islets had turned bloodred from Missing Zero's presence, it had not yet made any significant progress on the island. Even so, there was clearly a town of some sort near its beaching point. Esen could only hope that the place had been evacuated, otherwise there would be a lot more blood on their hands than she was ready to accept. Her radio buzzed with the voice of Tier Climb's pilot. "Ground Squad, we're headed to the clearings north of Kotahi Village," he said. "That should put enough distance between us and Missing Zero for a safe landing." "Roger that," Goldhawk replied. "Tier Climb, EP-3, be prepared to enact defenses--Missing Zero may try to hit us as we descend." "Affirmative," Esen replied. As one, she and the line of helicopters began the drop toward their landing zone. For the most part, trouble seemed content to stay away from them. The lack of activity was beginning to make Esen nervous. While she could see movement on the islet below them, suggesting Missing Zero was busy engaging the remaining occupants there, it seemed content to allow the line of helicopters to fly above and past it. At least, that was the initial impression. They were nearing the border of the islet when Esen became aware of bright yellow lights approaching from below--dozens of them, small yet growing bigger the higher they rose and the lower the helicopters fell. "Incoming, immediately below us!" she barked over the comm. "I can't tell what they are, but there are a lot of them!" She had barely finished her message and begun to charge an Air Slash attack when they arrived--the entire swarm, all at once. They moved about the squad, zipping up and down and blinking different colors, but they did not attack. Krow slowed to avoid running into them, as did the helicopters, fearing for what the creatures' umbilical cords might do to the propellers. "What are these things . . .?" Skye breathed over her comm. That is a great question . . . Esen frowned, looking every which way. She froze as one of the things approached her, offering her the clearest view yet of one of Missing Zero's Instances. The creature before her was small, and looked very much like a light bulb save for the golden eye visible within its nucleus. It buzzed with four little arm-like wings, extending from its base close to where the cord connected to it from Missing Zero's main body. The thing flitted about in front of her, close and then far again, examining her. Above, the others did the same to the helicopters. They're like living light bulbs . . . "They're not attacking," Esen said. "What do we do?" "Whatever they're doing, it can't be good. EO-1," Goldhawk said. "The Dark-Type Suit is equipped with a scanner. Can you get a reading on these things?" "Yes, sir--one second." "That one second better be the quickest second that has ever--" "Can it, Sang," Sleight's voice snapped over the comm. "EO-1, what have you got?" "Not a lot, but I am getting their Typing," Ryan responded. "Electric-Bug." "EP-3, get rid of them," Goldhawk ordered. "Now." "Yes, sir." Esen raised her hands. "Hang on!" Miniature tornadoes gathered around her arms as Esen activated Whirlwind. At the sight of this, the various bugs went crazy, fluttering all around and flashing red. Whatever they were attempting to do, Esen did not allow to happen. She released the Hurricane attack in a wide circle around herself, managing to catch the bugs and the helicopters in the attack's radius. While the pilots managed to stay steady, the Instances were sent tumbling back toward Missing Zero, tangling together and crashing into its surface far below. "Targets eliminated," Esen reported. "Good work, EP-3," Goldhawk said. "Let's get mov--" "Wait," Esen interrupted. "Something else is coming up." Where the bugs had crashed, two symbols appeared on Missing Zero's surface, both yellow in color. Spherical objects marked with blue lines emerged, followed each by four magnets--a corruption of what might normally pass for a Magnemite. The Instances turned upward, still for a moment before sparks erupted from their bodies. The magnets flew in a frenzy around their glowing bodies, and they barreled upward, straight toward Esen. "Incoming, two hostiles!" she shouted. Krow flew to the side, narrowly avoiding one and then the other. He turned in time to allow Esen to aim an Air Slash at them, fully intending to direct their attention back to her and away from the helicopters. She did not need to, however: Despite slowing to a stop right next to Tier Climb, the Instances automatically turned back toward her, launching Thunderbolts at her and Krow. Esen grimaced as one grazed her, followed by a direct hit to Krow from the other. The force of impact was enough to launch her from Krow's back, and she narrowly managed to activate her own jets before falling too far. Even as Krow regained his composure, the two creatures shot forward again, completely ignoring the Dark-Flying-Type. "Entry Guard, provide covering--" "LP-3, I think they're after me," Esen interrupted. She lowered her jets, dropping herself another dozen feet, and then shot toward the back of the line of helicopters. The Instances followed close behind, and Krow after them. "Those things must've--marked me as a threat when I attacked." She spun to the side, launching an Air Slash back at her opponents. "Get to the landing zone--I'll distract them until then. Do not engage further targets until you've hit the target." "Esen, are you crazy!?" Skye called. "Yes, now go!" Esen yelled. "Don't worry about me--I'll land as soon as you have!" For a moment, the only sounds in the air were the rushing wind and the angry whirring from the Instances. Finally, Goldhawk spoke. "Roger that," he said. "Pilots, get moving! EP-3, stay close if you can--we'll assist as soon as we're on the ground." "Understood!" Shifting into a wide arc, Esen steered away from the helicopters, bringing the Instances with her. She deactivated her jets as Krow flew under her, gripping tightly as the Big Boss Pokémon carried her through the air toward Kotahi Village. As the helicopters made their way over the village and toward the clearings, the Honchkrow darted between buildings, doing what he could to shake off the pursuing Electric-Types. "Whenever you're ready, team!" Esen called. "We're headed your way now!"

IC - Kyle Eston/Levi Alaric - Cafeteria, The Alamo: The mere mention of the Signs was enough for Kyle to visibly tense up. Not so visibly, his lungs tensed. Kyle reached into his pocket and retrieved his inhaler, taking a slow, soothing breath of the medicinal aroma within. He took the time where his lungs relaxed to think of how to respond to Xander. "I can tell you what I remember about them," he said. "It won't be much, though--I can't directly remember a lot of what happened with them, only what I was told by Victoire and Esen. She would know more than me." Kyle rubbed the back of his head. "I don't suppose you tried to pull up the report we submitted about them already? That'd probably save you some time."

IC - Kyle Eston/Levi Alaric - Cafeteria, The Alamo: Switching to different cameras did not reveal Esen's intentions, until Kyle reached the camera for the Bug-Type Suit. From its vantage point, he could see Esen maneuvering through the air, at the same time that the camera operator jumped onto the back of a Honchkrow--presumably Esen's. Kyle breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing. "She's alright," he said, his tone hushed. He opened Esen's message again. "Of course, her Suit is Flying-Type--why wouldn't it be able to fly?" He closed Esen's message, running his hand through his hair. "Looks like they're moving some people around. Wonder why . . ." As Kyle took a sip of water, he glanced back at Ryan and Xander, biding time to calm down. When he finished, he set his glass back on the table. "Sorry--what do you need?"

IC - Kyle Eston/Levi Alaric - Cafeteria, The Alamo: There was nothing particularly frightening about Evan . . . but Levi was a nervous kid to begin with. And between the surge of new arrivals, the purple coat made of scales, the clear sheer height difference between himself and Evan Tierra . . . The boy could not help but tremble, retreating once more. At the rate he was going, he would likely end up on the floor before long. "Um . . . L-Levi Alaric," he said, quieter than he meant to be. "N-Nice to m-meet you, M-Mr. Tierra . . ." "Hey, Ryan, Evan, Xander--everyone." Kyle rubbed the back of his head, glancing back at Paul and Ryan. "Eh . . ." Paul's gaze felt like a drill through the skull. Kyle tapped his fingers awkwardly against the table, very much aware once again about how inappropriate it might be to watch a top-secret mission in front of two of the children most affected by the circumstances that brought about said mission in the first place. At the moment, it didn't seem like a huge issue--they were merely traveling, after all--but once they started fighting . . .? He took a deep breath. "I'm really sorry, Mr. Burks--it didn't even occur to me to let you know," he said, dragging the computer closer. "There's a mission going on right now--some of our friends are on it. I don't really know a ton about it--" He began clicking through feeds again. "--but my understanding is that there are something like eighteen Agents headed to Three Island in order to get information on that thing that appeared on Two Island. And the suits of armor that they're using to fight have cameras built in that I realized I could access with a security code and--and--" He faltered, trailing off with an alarmed look. "--and Esen just jumped out of her helicopter." IC - Goldhawk/Sleight/Jackson Sang/Esen Windred/Skye Hall - Helicopters, En Route to Objective: Use myself as a ferry to rearrange the compositions of the groups . . . Esen shook her head, partially to clear her thoughts and partially out of reaction to the thought. Impossible--with my training, there's no way that I could manage that. She pulled two Poké Balls from the carrying compartments on her armor. Krow and Noi, on the other hand . . . "My thought was that I could take a team of snipers forward as an advance scout in order to clear a landing zone," Esen said, ignoring the alarmed jerk of the head from Skye. "If necessary, then I can still do so. Otherwise, I agree with TC-1's plan, with minor adjustments. While I cannot personally ferry other operatives from helicopter to helicopter, my Pokémon can. Meanwhile I can provide air support from below the line of helicopters as we approach One Island. Over." "I think that's as good a plan as we're going to get, over," Sleight interjected. "Agreed," Goldhawk said. "All pilots mark: Change course for One Island. Tier Climb will lead, followed by Entry Guard and Valley Watch. EP-3 will shuttle EP-2 and 4 to Tier Climb; TC-3 will move into Essence Ponder in order to accommodate the change. EP-3 will remain airborne, stationed below Entry Guard and Valley Watch, in order to intercept attacks from below, and then move forward to clear out landing zone. All orders clear?" "Yes, sir," Esen answered. "Begin reconfiguration now." Through the window, Esen watched as the helicopters shifted both their speed and their course. As they straightened out into a single line, and Essence Ponder fell back so that it was behind the two groups of snipers, Esen turned to the other occupants of her helicopter. She placed a hand on the door behind her, easing it open enough that she could release her Noivern and Honchkrow into the sky. They materialized amongst the rushing wind, easily keeping pace with the rest of the convoy. Esen shifted her head to them, directing them to either side of the helicopter, and then closed the door. "Whenever you're ready," she said to Jamie and Skye. "You can hop on their backs and they'll bring you to the other chopper. After that . . . Be ready for our arrival." She looked at Skye. "Will you be okay?" Skye didn't answer. Instead, she looked out the window, down at the sea rushing by below them. It was a long way down, and somehow she didn't think the Bug-Type Suit would offer much protection from the fall if she misstepped. Even through her trembling, she managed to offer Esen a nod, which Esen returned. "Stay safe," Skye said. "Don't let those things get you." "I won't." Esen gave the group a thumbs up, before opening the helicopter door and stepping out onto the bars. As the door closed, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment, and then leaped off. The jets on her suit activated, not stopping her descent but certainly controlling it, until she was no longer falling but instead flying, rocketing toward One Island alongside the armored vehicles of Team Liberty.

IC - Kyle Eston/Levi Alaric - Cafeteria, The Alamo: "Not exactly . . ," Kyle said, lowering his voice and staring absentmindedly at the boy. He wasn't quite sure how to phrase what he had been told the day before in a way that made sense. "His parents felt that that it might be good to have someone watch him who they can count on. And since I saved him on Two Island when we were escaping from that final chamber . . ." He trailed off with a shrug, lost on his own train of thought. Chloe's arrival pulled him back to reality. "Hey." IC - Goldhawk/Sleight/Jackson Sang/Skye Hall/Esen Windred - Helicopters, En Route: "EP-3 speaking. I have an idea, as well," Esen radioed back. "What's yours, TC-1? Over."

IC - Kyle Eston/Levi Alaric - Cafeteria, The Alamo: Kyle grimaced, taken aback by Ellen's distress (although noting in hindsight that he shouldn't have been). The clear and sudden panic in Levi's expression only made it worse. Hearing Ellen's guilt over her role in disrupting this mysterious girl's life had evidently reminded him of his own involvement in Ford's plot. His breathing became short and rapid, and he dropped his fork in his food. The boy placed a hand on his chest and turned away from the table, forcing himself to take several deep breaths to calm down. "Are you okay?" Kyle asked the two children. Levi nodded. "I'm sorry--I shouldn't have brought it up." He ran a hand through his hair, thinking. An idea popped into mind, prompting him to smile. "Hey--do you guys like dogs?" He pulled a Poké Ball from his belt and opened it under the table. Torith yipped, and then climbed into view next to his trainer. Kyle patted the Houndour's head and pushed him in the direction of Levi and Ellen, where he surfaced again between them with a cheerful bark. "This is Torith. He just hatched a couple of days ago." "Aw . . . h-hi . . ." Levi gingerly reached forward, petting Torith. A smile grew on his face, and he giggled as Torith hopped up to lick his face. "I wanna keep him." Kyle laughed. "He's mine, bud."

IC - Kyle Eston/Levi Alaric - Cafeteria, The Alamo: "I see." Kyle couldn't say that he was surprised. Between Ellen's disappearance, the events with Ford, and everything else, he was honestly surprised that Ellen and Paul had stayed on Four Island for as long as they had. He figured the evacuations throughout the region must have played a part in that. "Wish it was that easy for everyone. Unfortunately I don't think things are going to be 'normal' around here for a while . . ." He glanced over at Levi and, with a sigh, turned back to his computer. "Still, probably a good idea to take advantage of the lull before anything else happens. Gives you some time to recoup and everything." Levi gave Kyle a confused look. "Mr. Kyle, what does that mean?" "What does what mean?" "Um . . . Recoup." "Oh. It's . . ." Kyle thought for a moment. "It's short for recuperate. Like healing. You stay in bed to recoup from a cold." "Oh . . . Okay." Levi hunched into his plate again, pushing his food around with a fork. "Recoup . . . Recuperate . . ." he muttered to himself, apparently liking the word. "Recoup . . ." Kyle smiled, and then looked at Ellen and Paul again. "Speaking of," he said, gesturing to his eye. "Do you mind if I ask what happened, Ellen?"

IC - Kyle Eston/Levi Alaric - Cafeteria, The Alamo: If Levi's arrival had been a surprise, Kyle couldn't think of a stronger word to describe the sudden appearance of Paul and Ellen. What caught him most off-guard wasn't their presence, however, but rather the fact that Ellen's eye socket gleamed with a black sheen. Taken aback, Kyle slowly looked between father and daughter, momentarily unsure of what to say. "Yeah, go ahead," he said at last. Kyle slid to the side, gesturing for a hesitant Levi to do the same. "It's been a while." He looked at Ellen. "How are you, Ellen?" Levi, meanwhile, retreated into his barely-touched plate, silent and clearly uncomfortable with the new arrivals. To his credit, he did not voice this, merely hiding behind his plate instead. IC - Goldhawk/Sleight/Esen Windred/Skye Hall/Jackson Sang - Hangar, The Alamo: Preparations were complete. The listings on Goldhawk's data pad updated with each seating assignment, shifting from red to green as the seven choppers signaled that they were ready for take-off. From the center of the hangar, Red raised a hand, giving Goldhawk the okay. He returned the gesture, and then pressed on his comm button. "It's time," his voice spoke across the earpieces of all those working the operation. "Initiate departure." He stepped back, slipping into his seat across from Ava Willows and securing himself. "Initiating departure," confirmed each of the pilots. One by one, chopper blades began to spin, lifting each vessel into the air. Within moments, they had exited Four Island, their view of the ground below replaced with the blue of the sea. As the vehicle's motion smoothed into a consistent glide through the air, Goldhawk focused on the data pad in his hands. Additional lines of status information joined those already present, signaling the launch of not only the helicopters the team was riding on, but also the surveillance drones moving ahead of them to scope out Three Island and its surrounding area. A voice crackled in Goldhawk's ear over the comm. "Silvermind to Goldhawk," Silvermind said. "Confirm successful departure, over." Goldhawk pressed his comm again. "Goldhawk to Silvermind," he said. "Departure confirmed. En route to Three Island, over." "Confirming route," Silvermind responded. "ETA consistent with previous reports. No change in M0 ETA to Three Island, over." "Acknowledged," Goldhawk responded. "Keep me updated, over." He clicked his comm again, switching back over to the group channel. The Liberty Leader gave each of the other occupants of his chopper a brief look-over, taking note of which other suits of armor were present--Water, Poison, and Fairy to complement his Electric. He leaned back, shifting his gaze to the window and the rapid flow of the sea below. "And now we wait." Anticipation only made the clock tick louder and slower. Skye could not help but thump her foot rapidly against the floor of the helicopter, flipping her Return Module over and over in her fingers. Beside her, Esen sat with arms crossed, eyes directed out the window, seemingly unaware of the nervous Rocket Agent shaking in her boots. Each occupant existed in their own world, watching and waiting for their arrival upon the battlefield. The bubbles of reverie that encompassed them popped in quick succession as a sudden beeping sounded in their ears. Without prompting, their comms turned on, connected via emergency link to Goldhawk's radio--and each of the other comm systems by extension. "This is Goldhawk to ground team," the Liberty Leader's urgent voice crackled. "Reports of Missing Zero Instances arriving on One Island. Repeat, target has adjusted course to include One Island. Reconfiguring team deployments. Standby for assignments." "Why?" Silvermind's voice called in response, her indicator blinking with her speech. "Stay the course--it doesn't matter if it takes One Island, we need the element of surprise." "Negative," Goldhawk responded. "Evacuations on One Island are incomplete. Repeat, civilian presence remains on One Island--" Esen leaned forward, her fingers to her ear. "Holy ####," she muttered. Beside her, Skye leaned forward and covered her head with her hands. "What!?" Sleight's voice crackled in response. "I thought those evacuations were finished already!" "Standby for deployment instructions," Goldhawk snapped. "We're near the midpoint between both islands--we can send forces to cover the remaining evacuations as well as forces to continue with the original objective." "Splitting our forces is suicide!" Silvermind called. "Either cover the civilians on One Island or maximize recon efforts and surprise it on Three. But keeping the Power Suits out of Missing Zero's hands has to remain the highest priority, and you're risking that by spreading out." "You know," Blackskull's voice cut in. "Those people in the Suits right now probably have the best idea of how safe and effectively they can use them. Maybe you ought to let some of them help you decide." Goldhawk fell silent for a moment. "If anyone has an opinion one way or the other, make it snappy," he said. "We're running out of time."

IC - Kyle Eston - Cafeteria, The Alamo: T19-8V7-AM0. Kyle's fingers tapped against the touchscreen. To his surprise, the code still worked. He glanced around the cafeteria. A handful of other Agents meandered about--a couple arguing quietly in one corner, a few other singular individuals dotted around who were eating on their own, and one other larger group that had occupied a far-off table. Then there were the cafeteria staff, too occupied with their work to notice any particular patron. Nonchalantly, he tapped his fingers against the table, and then scrolled through the list in front of him. The security camera system hadn't changed terribly since he had last accessed it. The only real difference was the vast increase in the number of cameras and sectors that had been added to the base since his last venture into the directory. He opened Esen's message from the night before. What would 'power suits' be labeled as? Kyle frowned, clicking through. Would have to be a newer directory . . . Different camera feeds flashed across the screen. First the maintenance going on in R&D, then the VIP prison sector . . . None of these areas interested him. Finally, he happened upon a section of cameras that presented a completely black screen. Kyle tilted his head, slowing down and clicking through more slowly. Black screen. Black screen. Black screen--Aha. If the person sitting in front of the camera had not been wearing such a strange suit of armor, Kyle would not have been sure that this was the correct feed. But it was clear from that detail, as well as the fact that they were sitting in a helicopter, others in the background were busily having their suits assembled, and that the camera Kyle was watching through appeared to be moving with someone's breathing--as if it was not fixed in place--that he had found the cameras associated with the Power Suits. He clicked through again, finding similar sights and more black screens. Finally, he found the one in particular that he was looking for. The camera pointed up toward the ceiling from her lap, catching her face in its line of sight. Her hands rested on either side of the helmet, holding it in place. Esen stared out of the window, clearly prepared for takeoff despite whatever nerves she was feeling. She glanced away from the window at something else--perhaps another person climbing into the chopper?--before nodding. She lifted her helmet and put it on. Two other Agents sat in the chopper, each wearing their own armor. Kyle could not recognize them through their helmets. He leaned back and sighed. There was nothing left to do but wait and watch. He leaned back closer as green bars appeared down one side of the screen. Health bars? On closer observation, he noted the names and numbers associated with each. Kyle frowned, pulling a pen and a piece of paper from his bag. Ray's on this mission, too? He began taking down their suit information. After taking down the numbers from Esen's screen, he flipped to another, taking down hers. And Sleight and Goldhawk . . . He opened his messenger, typing a message to Ryan, Chloe, Evan, and Sonja--In cafeteria w/camera feed for emergency mission. Meet here--? "Um . . . M-Mr. Kyle . . .?" The quiet voice prompted Kyle to look up. He was confused to find a young boy standing in front of him with a tray of food, uncertain of who he was for a brief moment. After the initial surprise wore off, he realized who was speaking to him. Kyle shifted in his seat to face him, quietly hitting the 'send' button on his message. "Hi, Levi." "Um . . . hi . . ." Levi shifted uncomfortably on his feet, looking just about anywhere except for at Kyle. "Can I--may I sit here, sir?" 'Sir'? Kyle glanced at his computer. Is a monster-fighting mission appropriate for a kid to watch? He looked back at Levi, rubbing his chin. "Well . . ." "Oh . . ." Levi tried and failed to hide his look of dismay. "I-I'm sorry--I'll go." "Hey--sorry, that's not what I meant," Kyle said. "I'm sorry--I just usually eat by myself. Go ahead and take a seat." A nervous smile briefly appeared on Levi's face. He slipped his tray onto the table and then slid onto the bench opposite Kyle. His shoulders remained hunched, almost defensive, and he occasionally glanced around at others in the room. All in all, he did not look very comfortable. Kyle tapped his fingers against the table. "Are you okay?" Levi played with his food for a moment, totally silent. "I don't know . . ." He glanced at Kyle's screen before dropping his gaze back to his plate. "Do you think they're coming back today . . .?" The question took Kyle by surprise. He thought it over. "I can't say," he said. "But they'll be back--don't worry about that. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but they'll be back." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Are you worried about your dad?" Levi nodded. "I'm worried about someone, too . . ." He flipped back over to Esen's screen. "I hope they'll be okay." Levi nodded. "Me, too."

To put it bluntly, anything I can say in response boils down to "you didn't understand the film." And I think that sentence I quoted before pretty succinctly summarizes the mindset prevalent within this review that somehow you're the only one seeing through a charade that isn't present to begin with, because even within context you're saying "People blindly love this film because of Nolan-mania and by golly I'm not having it!" That's all I really care to say about this. I'd really suggest rewatching Dunkirk if you're going to publicly lambast it.

I should really stop reading updates to this blog. also really. really.

IC - August 5th - Departure, The Alamo Goldhawk/Skye Hall/Esen Windred/Jackson Sang/Sleight: The sun had risen. It was a pleasant day to anyone without even the faintest idea of the world around them. Rays of sunshine cast a yellow tinge across the Sevii Islands, bathing land and sea in warmth and hope. But there was one place where the sunlight, though it tried, could not reach: Two Island. The gelatinous mass covering the land devoured the light of everything warm and new, recasting it in a reddish glare like a condensed haze blotted upon the world. Here, there was no warmth, no hope, no light of a new day. There was only the entity, and the malfunctioned reality in which it existed. Four Island might as well have suffered the same. Activity through the morning--and the night prior, as well--only sped forward with the rising sun. The Alamo docks bustled with activity as engineers and executives prepared transport and supplies for their volunteer fighters. Eighteen stations dotted the complex, ready to install elemental armor onto those brave soldiers prepped to depart for their soon-to-be battle--the first of many to come. 10:00 AM neared. Eighteen trainers arrived, differing amongst themselves in stress and fear. If any now wished for a pardon, the sad reality was that their fate was set. To turn back would first require a venture forward. There was no time to waste. "Preparations complete!" Goldhawk's voice boomed over the loudspeaker. "Start loading up--fifteen minutes to take off!"

IC - Skye Hall - Training Arena, The Alamo: The match-up results weren't terrible, but Skye wasn't sure she could call them ideal, either. It was one thing to go into battle and possibly die against a horde of alien creatures--Skye had read enough comic books, seen enough films, and read enough novels covering that same scenario that she was certain that she could at least put together some worthwhile last words if it came down to it. She didn't need anyone to tell her mother-father-brother that she loved them, nor did she feel the need to go the melodramatic, 'Miiii-ser-yyyyy!' route, either. What she had in mind was something more subtle, a perfect closure--a simple, 'Game over'-style departure. Point being, Skye was more comfortable with the idea of dying by alien hands than she was with the idea of having to spar with someone she knew she had flat-out betrayed. It was bad enough that she had inadvertently burned her bridge to Gavin. If the same happened with Lucia, or with Ethan or Jamie--her heart skipped a beat as she realized, to her horror, that Jamie was also going on this mission--Skye wasn't sure if she could-- "Long time, no see!" Too soon, much too soon. The electronically-modulated voice was definitely Lucia's, and it came from directly behind her. A million thoughts raced through Skye's head. She wasn't ready--she hadn't had enough time to prepare, to think of what to say, what jokes to make to lighten the mood, how to properly apologize. How could she face Lucia right now? It didn't matter--she had to do it. That was the point of being here, right? To train? She couldn't run or hide, anyway--there was nowhere she could do either. Which left only one option. Muscles tensed and her heart pounding, she slowly turned to face her fear. "Hey, Lucia," Skye stammered. Though the helmets covering their faces helped by hiding their expressions from each other, and thus hid Skye's paled complexion from Lucia's view, they couldn't change the fact that Skye's nerves were literally making her shake in her boots. "Are you ready to . . . uh . . . fight?" "If you feel up to it." Lucia moved to scratch her head slightly, until she realized that she couldn't do so with her helmet on. "How are you feeling? We don't need to start if you're not ready." The girl noticed Skye's shaking legs, and knew that something like this would not help any situation at all. "Yeah no I'm totally fine," Skye said, the words coming more forcefully than she meant them to. Like Lucia, she made the mistake of trying to awkwardly rub the back of her head. "I mean, yeah, let's go." Skye paused. Instead of saying what was actually on the tip of her tongue, she opted for, "How do we start this?" Lucia wasn't entirely convinced about that, but put her hand to the chin of her helmet. "Um, I'm actually not entirely sure. Maybe we could start by trying out our basic moves?" "On each other?" "That or on the room in general. I'm honestly not picky." Skye could feel the awkward dial turn to '11'. "Okay, let's . . ." Skye paused. "Actually, hold on a second--I wanna try something." She raised a hand up to her helmet, pressing her left-ear panel. Her eye hovered over the Grass-Type Suit marker on her HUD. A bright purple outline appeared around it on both of their screens. "This Suit is supposed to supplement power for other Suits. I think it worked. Did your HUD do anything different just now when I pressed this?" She tapped her helmet. "A purple outline, appeared, yes, so I think it worked too." The grass suit user nodded, as she seemed curious. "What kind of power does it supplement?" "It's a universal increase to our six ranking categories," a nearby technician chimed in. "The T-01 can apply those increases to five other Power Suits at once. The more connections it makes, the less it increases each individual Suit's rankings, but connecting to a single one would effectively maximize that single Suit's power output." They nodded to a nearby boulder. "Try out a Razor Leaf. I think you'll find it significantly more effective than it would be without that boost." Lucia nodded, and prepared the attack routine. As she fired on the boulder, she was surprised to find that it damaged it a lot more than she had expected it to be. "Whoa, Skye, that's neat!" The exploding boulder made Skye flinch, but she smiled nonetheless. She deactivated the link. "Hopefully that helps in the actual fight." Raising a hand and steadying it with the other, Skye took aim at the boulder. Her hand vibrated with energy, which she launched in a Bug Buzz attack at the immobile target. The kickback from the attack was a bit more than she was expecting, and she ended up sending it a bit too high. Another try, however, and she had created a sizable gash in the rock. She observed her handiwork for a moment. "Pokémon make that look a lot easier than it actually is." "Agreed... this is pretty cool, though, huh? I just wish this could all be happening under less critical circumstances..." The woman sighed, but turned to Skye. "I think it will help, though! Your powers seem pretty neat. Wanna work on the finer touches of our attacks before anything else?" "Sure," Skye said. Behind her helmet, however, her smile faded. Skye shut off her comm, took a breath, and then turned it back on. "Before we do that, though . . . Lucia, I just want you to know--and I've told others this and it doesn't make it okay or anything and I know that--I'm really sorry for everything with Ford. I shouldn't have gone with Hayes and . . . McKinley." Her chest was pounding. She would be surprised if no one could hear it, even through the armor. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I wasn't, and now . . ." "I forgive you." Lucia walked over to the girl, and put a hand on her shoulder. "I only heard bits and pieces of what went on when you left, but I understand why you would have. I'm not gonna say it was totally okay or anything, but you made a split second decision to try and help. I would have done the exact same thing if I was in that situation. I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't forgive you either, considering during that time in Celadon I nearly got turned on my friends and family." The healer sighed, as she tried her best to be reassuring. "You did think you were doing the right thing, and to me, that intent matters most." Though she fell silent, Skye was clearly relieved. Much of the tension in her shoulders vanished, and for the first time, she stood with an air of calm. Behind her helmet, she smiled. "Thanks, Lucia," she said. "Alright . . . Let's go train to kill stuff." IC - Jackson Sang - Training Arena, The Alamo: Jackson Sang was many things: as strong as a boxer, as swift as a kite, as dashing as Prince Charming, and as charming as Prince Dashing. He was also rash, overly confident, and undeniably egotistic. But he was not a big enough fool to assume that he could instinctively manage the addition of a Power Suit to the arsenal that was his body without additional training and studying. That was why he sat through Goldhawk's spiel about the Suits and their accompanying equipment, and why he simultaneously made sure, for the third time, to read through the in-built manuals on the Ground-Type Suit's capabilities. Throughout the lecture, Sang tested out some of the basic equipment on the suit. He double-checked that his comm was active by clicking the button in time with Goldhawk. The magnetic Poké Ball pockets were functioning perfectly. Diagnostics scrolled across his screen just as they were meant to, and the status list for the other Power Suits indicated that they were all operational--though he noted that two of them, the Normal- and Fighting-Type Suits, were already registering combat. A quick visual scan confirmed that they were not, in fact, present with all the others. Curious. Miss Belrose, he silently tutted. Breaking the rules with my Suit, eh? Pushing the thought aside, Sang returned his attention to himself. All positive testing aside, there was one itsy-bitsy issue that he was not sure how to fix without direct practice, and that was his Suit's Seismic Sensors. The point of the module was to allow for pinpoint-precise location of ground-bound enemies. Simple enough. Activating it, however, muddled his vision more than anything, filling his screen with markers for anything and anyone who happened to be touching the floor. It only got worse when Goldhawk dismissed the group to their sparring matches. That was just plain distracting. He took a moment to manually adjust his settings, lowering the input from the sensors. That was better, but also not ideal: Going to the opposite extreme singled out one person on his radar, someone in a blue set of armor who happened to be approaching him. Probably this--What was it? Sang glanced back at the list--Richard Apollo guy. "One sec," Sang said, raising a finger. "Technical difficulties." "That's alright," Richard responded smiling, "I wasn't quite finished warming up anyways." Turning away from Sang, Richard placed one hand by his stomach, almost but not quite making a fist. Keeping his shoulders down and his head high, he pulled air down into his diaphragm. As he exhaled he began to count in a monotone voice, "1, 2, 3..." and kept going until he reached "..100". The Sableye holding his violin case nodded approvingly. Counting to 100 on one breath was impressive. He'd really improved. As a not-musician, Sang might have given Richard a bemused look if they weren't wearing helmets. As a helmet-wearing warrior at the current moment, he did not do this. Instead, he finished his calibrations, settling for a compromise between too-little input and way-too-much. The result was a nice, easy radius of about twenty feet around him, where individuals who entered the circle would receive an initial marker for their presence, and then additional weak point markers as they drew closer. "Done," he announced. Sang moved several paces backward, bringing his arms up in front of him. "I'm ready whenever you wanna throw the first punch." "One sec," Richard responded as he dropped a Poke Ball to the ground. Out came a Whismur who looked at the suited Richard as if he'd grown a second head. He face was replaced by an orange screen after all. "Gimme a low C, Orpheus." The Whismur shied away a bit and let out a very quiet 'C'. "Good, but a little louder," Richard instructed. Summoning up the courage to make a note in the midst of people, the Whismur went "Hiiiiiii" with a simple, clear, monotone 'C'. Silently sucking in air and keeping his hand still for a moment longer, he internalized the note that the Whismur was holding. As he finally exhaled, a row of bubbles appeared in front of Richard approximately where his hand was. "Do, Mi, So," as Richard's voice rose to hit the three notes, a row of bubbles appeared approximately level with his hand at each note and shot towards Sang. With this one simple attack, Sang realized something that had not previously occurred to him: This suit had no defensive capabilities in its arsenal. With a Durability Rating of six, that wasn't typically going to be a problem, as that meant the suit's natural defenses were high enough to withstand most attacks. But in a real battle, that would only help for so long. He would need to compensate. Sang rolled back, dragging his hand along the ground and closing his fingers. When he brought his fist up, he held a bone, crafted by his suit through its Bone Club protocol. The Bone Club proved to be an effective tool for blocking and deflecting the Bubble-slash-Bubblebeam attack--Sang wasn't entirely clear which one it was. Unfortunately, Water beat Ground, and eventually the makeshift club dissolved, leaving Sang to take the remainder of the attack. He shook off the impact, conscious of how different the attack felt in the Power Suit compared to outside of it: Less painful overall, but Sang could definitely confirm that the Type Chart was still in play. Note to self: Keep away from Water-, Ice-, and Grass-Types. Focusing back on the match, Sang swung around. With his leading arm, he launched a Mud Shot back at Richard. Richard tried to block using the bubbles with a sustained note, but the bubbles burst into a sea of sparkles when the Mud Shot hit. The mud continued on course and struck Richard, weighing him down. He needed to be able to coalesce the bubbles into waves in response to his voice. Only then would he have the attack's true power. How to do that was beyond him though. "Do, Mi, Re, Fa, Mi, So..." Richard sang creating rows of bubbles that would alternate between higher and lower, in an attempt to create a trickier pattern. The attack proved to be effective agility practice for Sang. The freelancer shifted, spun, and flipped between bubbles, familiarizing himself with the added weight of the Power Suit. It certainly wasn't easy taking the additional weight into consideration, but it was certainly useful. "What's with the vocals?" he asked. "You some kind of pop star?" Nowhere near that successful Hades commented, shaking his head. "What? Me?" Richard said innocently as he started moonwalking to cause rain to wash off the mud weighing him down. "Nah, I'm just a wandering bard chronicling the stories of heroes." "A wandering bard, huh?" Sang couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, consider me your dancing monkey." He straightened his palms, shifting into a different fighting stance. "Come on--teach me some moves." "Finally, my friend had's one for a while and I've been so jealous," Richard said, his eyes glinting as he opened his mouth to continue his Sparkling Aria. And so they danced. IC - Esen Windred - Training Arena, The Alamo: Though the others were free to start their practice battles, Esen was not. There were two factors working against her, which the technicians currently assisting her were simultaneously stressing as 'highly important' and 'nothing to worry about.' First off was the fact that--as Esen had just discovered--the Flying-Type Suit had 'recently' been involved in a 'testing accident' wherein the previous operator--through 'no fault of his own'--had suffered 'severe burns and other injuries' on account of his 'overenthusiastic sparring partner.' Lovely. Second was the fact that, as discussed in the T-08's operation manual, the Flying-Type Suit came with highly sensitive field equipment that required extra training in order to operate--these being the mechanisms involved in the suit's flight. The technicians explained to her that, in theory, operation was 'simple,' it would just take some time 'getting used to the controls,' which were 'consolidated, see, into the palms here, so you can manipulate your jets almost like puppet strings--just be careful or else you might send yourself into a death spiral toward the ground.' Fair enough. Several tests later, and she had managed exactly that, flipping herself over and onto her back. With a frustrated sigh, she stood back up, standing still as the technicians converged on her in order to perform more extra calibrations. Esen looked at her sparring partner several feet away. She couldn't see his expression due to his helmet, but if she had to take a guess simply based off of what she had seen earlier, she would bet that he wasn't amused by the continued delay. Reaching a hand up to her helmet, she connected her comm to his. "At this rate, it might be a better use of your time to find another group to match with," she said. "I don't think this is going to get fixed anytime soon." It took a moment for Theodore to respond, as if the endless delay had caused him to retreat into his own thoughts and Esen's words were calling him back to reality. He made a quick glance around the room at the other agents locked in combat before shaking his head at Esen. "I do that, and when you finally get things working you'll be without a partner. Besides, it looks like everyone else is already in the middle of their battles. I'd just be a third wheel." "Fair enough." Esen settled back. She waited a few more moments. "You were arguing with a couple of other people in the Command Center earlier, right? Mind if I ask what that was about?" Although it was hidden behind his visor, the grimace on Theodore's face was evident in his strained voice. "My daughter tried to volunteer for the mission, even though she's still recovering from serious injuries she received in Celadon. She's been hospitalized for weeks, yet was heedless of the danger the Missing Zero poses. So I put my foot down. Perhaps I overreacted, but I couldn't stand to see her throw her life away like that. A parent's overprotective love, I suppose." Finally, the technicians dispersed, giving Esen room to test out her equipment again. She clenched her fist, physically focused on testing out the Power Suit and mentally distracted by Theodore's situation. The jets on her boots activated, a low roar rumbling her feet as she hovered off the ground. Esen steadied herself, before shutting the jets off and dropping back to the floor. "If that's the worst thing you've ever done as a parent," she said, unable to hide her bitter tone. "Then don't beat yourself up too badly. She'll get it, sooner or later." "And if it's not the worst thing I've done?" Theodore took up a defensive stance. "It sounds like you've had some experience with poor parenting. Mind sharing?" Esen stared at him with a look that could have paralyzed an Arbok. Internally, she debated how to word her response--whether to sugarcoat it, or lay it out to dry. After a minute, she made her decision. Honesty was the best policy, after all. "My mother murdered my father, kidnapped me from the life I lived with him, and brainwashed and experimented on me for years in order to create what she considered to be the 'perfect soldier.' She died in a desert for it, with no one but her worst enemy by her side and no one in the world who loved her, brought down and betrayed by the same people she had worked with for twenty years in order to bring about their 'perfect society.'" She raised her fists and shifted her feet. "So, yeah . . . I'd say you could do a lot worse." Theodore kept silent for an uncomfortably long moment. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "I didn't mean to pry at old wounds. You're right, your situation was far worse. But that doesn't mean my daughter will see it that way. I've made so many sacrifices her her sake, yet she won't even speak to me." He stared at his feet, then spoke in a hesitant voice. "What would your mother have had to do to earn your forgiveness . . . ?" Was there a good answer to that question? Esen wasn't sure if there was anything Ace could have done to be forgiven. Her knuckles shifted uncomfortably. Ace was long dead, and anything that could have hypothetically happened at this point was merely wishful thinking. Then again, this wasn't actually about Esen's parental issues. "She could start by telling me why," Esen said. "And if that didn't work . . . an apology goes a long way." IC - Sleight - Training Arena, The Alamo: Despite her earlier confidence, Madison was clearly in over her head. While the sparring match wasn't supposed to be a competition, she still felt like she was losing. Every attempt at an attack left her open for Sleight to counter. If she focused on avoiding hits, the successive attacks would eventually overwhelm her. Even the Ghost-Type Suit's invisibility module only gave her a brief reprieve, for Sleight could easily pick up on her armored footsteps as she tried to circle around the battlefield. The fact that her opponent was the Shadow Admin of Kanto didn't help, either. Ever since the battle in Celadon, Madison had toyed with the idea of joining Dack at Team Rocket. The recent Ford fiasco had put those thoughts on hold, but the skier still wanted to make a good first impression toward the Rocket leader. Consequently, each time she made a fool of herself she grew more flustered. Even as she charged up a Shadow Ball, a well-placed Smack Down disabled the invisibility module and brought her to her knees. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Alaric," Madison stammered, trying her best to hide her growing frustration. "I'm just holding you back, aren't I? You can't test your suit's full capabilities this way." Sleight had to admit that she wasn't wrong. He was a born fighter, and the years had not hindered his hand-to-hand skills all that much--even now, he moved with the grace and technique of a man who knew how to maximize his presence on the field. Still, it wasn't useful to either of them for him to say as much. He relaxed his stance, opening the front plate of his helmet. "You're doing fine," he said. "Though you certainly need practice. I don't suppose you've received formal combat training before now?" Madison opened her helmet visor and shook her head, taking a moment to catch her breath. "To be honest, I'm probably the least qualified person here. I'm no stranger to physical endurance -- I've been skiing ever since I could walk -- but combat's fairly new to me. I was able to hold my own well enough in the recent battles in Sootopolis and Celadon, but I've always had someone at my side to help. Even in terms of formal Pokémon battles, it's usually a tag team with my friend Dack." She glanced over to the energized bout between Dack and Goldhawk. "He's the one in the Fire-Type Suit; he's been with Team Rocket for nearly four years, so he's probably got all the combat training you could hope to offer." An amused smirk creased the corner of Sleight's mouth. "Your friend stole my suit," he said. Sleight's smile faded as he watched Goldhawk perform a surprisingly acrobatic flip, dodging a Flamethrower from Dack. The two were certainly an energetic pair. Sleight glanced back at Madison. "You said you usually tag-team with him?" She nodded. "Then maybe another tag duel is in order." He raised a hand to his comm button. Goldhawk and Dack's fight slowed to a stop; from a distance, Goldhawk's gauntlet glinted as he, too, raised a hand to his head, saying something back to Sleight. Before long, they had picked their way over across the arena, joining Sleight and Madison. The Team Liberty Leader looked between the pair of them. Behind the almost-innocent LED eyes of his helmet, Goldhawk projected an almost thunderous air, one yearning for the prospect of a fight. "A tag-team match, huh?" he said, looking between the other three. "Pair up, then. I don't care who I get." Dack shook his head as he walked over to his girlfriend's side. Madison could practically hear his bemused smile in his voice. "You know, you've got to learn how to fight on your own, Maddie. You can't keep relying on me all the time." "Oh, I'm not relying on you at all. In fact, it's just the opposite." Madison grinned as she walked past Dack and approached her former opponent. "Mr. Alaric, would you mind being my partner for this battle?" He nodded, prompting Dack to let out a cry of disbelief. "But, Madison--" "Sorry, Dack. I'm not good at one-on-one battles. But I need to prove to you that with a teammate I'm more than capable of holding my own." Her visor slid over her face as she took on a battle-ready stance. "Don't hold anything back, alright?" Dack looked like he wanted to argue, but instead thought better of it and returned to Goldhawk's side. "Very well," he said as a nimbus of fire formed around his fist. "Let's get started." IC - Goldhawk - Training Arena, The Alamo: It was well into the night now, and each of the sparring matches had slowed to a crawl. With a nod from the lead technician, Goldhawk sounded the dismissal alert. "Well done, everyone," he spoke over the arena loudspeaker. "Return your Power Armor, get some rest, and be prepared for tomorrow morning. Suit-up is at 8 AM sharp, followed by departure at 10 AM." As the remaining fighters filtered out of the arena, each team of technicians met up, going over their notes from each pairing. Goldhawk headed toward the exit, leaving Blackskull to take care of the follow-up work. What was to come would require his full strength and focus, and he needed to prepare. He flipped the Return Module in his hands, and then clutched it to his chest. Tomorrow was a big day. IC - John Ford - Ford's Cell, Prison Block: For some time, Ford said nothing, merely contemplating what Chloe and Ryan had told and asked. He rubbed his chin and then rose, walking to his desk. Pulling a slip of paper forward, he began to write, and had soon produced a list. This he passed through the bars of his cell. Reading it revealed three items, scrawled in Ford's fluid handwriting: "I cannot claim to have the answers to these mysteries," Ford admitted. "But I think I know of someone who might." He pointed to the top of the list. "High Mage Gethin Pollux, my mentor. He discovered the first indications of what was to come. It is possible that he could access more pages within the Signs' grimoire, and use them to unlock the secrets of the Sins." Ford crossed his fingers together on the cell bars. "The grimoire is located in my headquarters, at the base of Mt. Silver. Miss Baron can show you the way and grant you access. Once you have it, you can bring it to the Signs in Kalos--they'll grant you an audience." A momentary silence. "I would suggest bringing my Symbol with you as an act of good faith, but that would require its acquisition from Team Liberty, and I do not believe they are likely to give it to you. Bounty's may be a fair alternative, if he is willing to hand it over." IC - Sonja Baron/Ethan Worth/Sophia Baron/Mewthree - Hayes's Cell, Prison Block: The conversation with Mewthree was brief, but straightforward. Admittedly, much of what the Psychic-Type had to offer served as simple confirmation for what had already been reported or observed. First, beings and materials absorbed by the creature would emerge later as the creature's forces. Although Mewthree could not confirm specifically that a given creature was rearranged from absorbed material, all evidence seemed to point to such a conclusion. First contact with the beast saw a small army of predominantly Ice- and Water-Type puppets, it said. Others were present, but only in small numbers--two or three other types at most. This is consistent with the makeup of Pryce's known Pokémon: Ice-Types with a predisposition toward secondary Water-Types, with some other Types present on occasion. Other Types only increased in number following the disastrous encounter with our forces, wherein a number of Pokémon and people were absorbed after being abducted or killed. From this, Mewthree brought forth another point. I encountered no Dual-Type puppets that were created from Pokémon, it continued. Which is not to suggest that there were not or are not those that possess multiple Types, but rather that a repurposed Dual-Type Pokémon does not result in one Dual-Type puppet, but two Single-Types. Mewthree pictured silhouetted, humanoid creatures in its mind, which Hayes transmitted to herself, Sonja, and Ethan. I am aware of entities that appeared in the forest surrounding the entry point toward the end of my tenure there. They did not approach, only observed from afar, and so I could not get an analysis of their combat abilities; nonetheless, I determined that their type was Normal and Ghost. They were not made from Pokémon. "What were they made from?" Sonja asked. I can only guess that they were repurposed from absorbed human beings, Mewthree said. Without a proper analysis, however, it is difficult to say. An unsettled silence fell upon the group. Eventually, Ethan broke it. "So what other Types did you encounter?" As I said, there were primarily Ice- and Water-Types, Mewthree said. On occasion, others would stray to the entry point. I know for certain that Ground-, Psychic-, and Ghost-Types attacked at different points, as well. It eventually opted--I assume--to conserve its energy, and the attacks became fewer. And that, really, was all Mewthree could offer. Thanking it, Sonja recalled the Mewtwo, leaving her and Ethan with Sophia Baron. The Second Child clutched her cell bars, leaning against them. She looked troubled, but she glowered and then relaxed with a breath. "Thank you for your help," Sonja said. "Now, did you have anything you to tell us, or should we head out and find everyone else? They should be done with Ford by now." "Make it snappy," Ethan said. Sophia glared. Sonja slapped his shoulder. Sophia looked at Sonja. "You need to get us out of these cells." "That's not going to happen," Sonja said. "Even if I wanted it to." That seemed to hurt Sophia, though she quickly steeled herself. "This isn't about what you want, Sonja, this is about what you need--you and the world," she said. "Ford and I know more about this than anyone, and the least effective way to handle it is through interrogating us and hoping you understand what we're telling you." Sonja crossed her arms, unconvinced. Ethan mimicked her. "Try us," Sonja said. "You dragged a bunch of us into this, and I can't help you get out. So you're just going to have to trust us." The Second Child breathed hard in frustration, pressing her head against the bars. "Just . . ." She took a breath to calm herself, relaxing her fists. "If you're working with Ford, you are going to end up crossing paths with some very, very dangerous people. That is on top of the threat from the monster outside. When that time comes . . ." She met Sonja's eye. "Please, just consider the fact that we know how to deal with them. None of these are forces meant to be trifled with." For a long time, Sonja just stared at her sister. She clipped Mewthree's Poké Ball to her belt. "I'll keep that in mind." Turning, she headed back down the hall. Ethan gave Sophia Baron one last look and then followed, leaving the Second Child behind.

IC - John Ford - Ford's Cell, Prison Block: Ford stared at Chloe, his silence more or less a confirmation of what she was asking. He cupped his mouth, looking between Luke and Ryan. "If it repurposed Raymond like it did Tyler," he said slowly. "Then I could certainly see it spacing out their deployment--different uses at different times for different objectives. The Fourth was clearly meant to act as a spy and saboteur amongst the other Nine Children. But the Fifth . . ." Ford's eyes shifted back to Chloe. "That would certainly depend on what context you encountered him in." The Shadowed Man raised a hand to his head. "If there is one fortunate consequence of this creature inhabiting our world," he said after a moment. "It is the fact that it has lost the element of surprise that accompanies its conversion of our own. While McKinley's transformation was overlooked, we can say now that there are telltale signs of corruption--clear mental degradation, a sudden reemergence after loss of contact during conflict with the creature." Ford offered a small smile to Luke. "It will have to perfect its procedure if it wishes to surprise us again with its . . . 'freaky clown monsters,' as you put it." The ensuing silence was deafening. Ford sat utterly still, contemplating the conversation. "I hesitate to be optimistic," he said slowly. "But I also hesitate to fear the worst with the current situation. McKinley and Warren were powerful, but they were two individuals going into a blind engagement in an unfamiliar place. Team Liberty and Rocket, while lacking the help of their Pokémon, nevertheless have the advantage of knowledge, foresight on what to expect. It's hard to say how it may turn out, but one thing is certain: How this mission goes will determine the course of this new war. That, I assure you."

Shadeasel looks good.

IC - John Ford - Ford's Cell, Prison Block: "I'll assume that you know who I am and skip that formality." Evan said politely, giving a slight bow to Ford. "This creature came from another world, parallel to ours, correct? If so, then why wasn't Palkia able to warn me of this creature, despite its power?" "The Hero of Space, of course." Ford nodded. "A pleasure." He rubbed his chin. "Truth be told, I'm not entirely certain that it inhabits time and space like an ordinary being. It certainly does not appear to abide by our natural laws like one might think. Pokémon like Celebi might bend space and time around them, creating an anomaly that can be felt and sometimes seen, but if it were a creature that exists completely outside of the webs of time . . . Now that is another question entirely." He turned his attention to Chloe. After a moment of pondering the pictures, Ford shook his head. "No, I can't say I have." He gestured to the other. "This one is Quentin Dallas--my successor as Shift. Real piece of work." The mere thought of Shift elicited a scoff from Ford. "You have the red hair down--always kept it slicked back. A bit darker than Dallas's--more of a conventional red, almost like wine. As I said, he often wore a monocle--said it helped him focus. I'd say he was about . . . five foot eight or so?" He gave Chloe an odd look. "I don't suppose you fought him on Four Island?"

IC - Goldhawk/Sleight/Bounty/Jackson Sang/Esen Windred/Skye Hall - Training Arenas, The Alamo: As promised, an alert went out for the Power Suit training session later that night. It was a straightforward affair: The eighteen volunteers for the mission to Three Island were outfitted with their armor. They and a number of technicians and officers assembled in front of the raised stage on which Goldhawk stood, his suit's helmet tucked under one arm. A popup screen stood behind him and to the left, alight with a presentation from a projector. In front of Goldhawk stood a table, where several objects rested. "Listen up--we want this to be thorough, yet quick," Goldhawk called. "Disregarding the specialized equipment built into each suit, operation of the Power Suits is fairly simple." He clicked a button. The screen changed to display an animation of what the suits' HUD looked like--vitals monitored in the upper-right corner, the suit's power just below that, diagnostics in the lower left, an equipment status indicator in the lower right, and an attack list in the upper left. "The helmet tracks your eye movement. Focus on a target, it'll highlight that target. Friendlies are highlighted in green, targets in red--the helmets know the difference. Equipment and moves can be activated virtually with a thought--just concentrate on the move you want to use. Focus on the list and you can search through it for whatever you're looking for--try to memorize your move list as soon as possible. In a pinch, you can activate your equipment manually by pressing the panel covering your left ear." He demonstrated with his helmet. "Comms are activated by pressing the same panel on your right ear." He demonstrated again. "For either of these, the button will stay down when its is active. If it is raised to its neutral position, then it is deactivated. Simple enough." "Down the left-hand side of the HUD are seventeen green markers. These are monitors for the other Power Suits on the field--your teammates. Damaged suits will change to orange; destroyed suits will change to red." The projected animation reflected this information. "If a suit changes to orange, it is imperative that the operator of that suit retreat as soon as possible. Nearby units should do whatever they can to ensure that retreat is possible, even if that means signaling a full retreat for the rest of the unit. We cannot allow Missing Zero to absorb this equipment--there is no telling what will occur if that happens. Is that clear?" A unified affirmation arose from the crowd. Goldhawk placed his helmet on the table, nodding to the presentation operator. The screen shifted from HUD animations to an analysis of a different piece of equipment--a black, rectangular device. Goldhawk held it up. "This is called a Return Module," he said. "Designed as part of Team Liberty's Project WITHER. You will each need to pick one up from this table. The Return Module can be carried on your person--in this case, by magnetizing to your suit--" He demonstrated by placing the device on his waist, where it stuck above the suit's six Poké Ball slots. "--and syncs with your vital monitors. In the event that your vitals drop below normal, the Return Module will instantly return any Pokémon you have deployed. If left unattended, as in the case of unconsciousness of death, it will return your Pokémon back to Team Liberty." He spoke very carefully to the group now. "Although the Return Module can be deactivated or its parameters modified, it is imperative to consider the possibility that you may not personally be able to make it back home. In this case, it may be better for you to send your Pokémon back, allowing them a longer lease on life." Goldhawk's expression softened. "Ultimately, however, that choice is up to you." He nodded to the operator again. The screen now displayed a list: "Finally, each of you has been assigned a sparring partner," Goldhawk said. "The purpose of this is not to defeat your partner, but to work together to learn the intricacies of utilizing the Power Suits. Technicians will be on-hand to assist you and offer direction. Again, you will want to focus on committing your move list to memory and on learning to use your specialized equipment, where applicable. Some suits are more readily usable than others--the distinction will be obvious if you've read up on your particular suit's equipment." He folded his arms behind his back, scanning the crowd. "Any questions?" IC - John Ford - Ford's Cell, Prison Block: "Thomas Warren and Tyler McKinley . . ." Ford sighed. "Where to begin . . ." The Shadowed Man disappeared into his cell again. A moment later, a scraping sound echoed through the cell and hallway as he pushed his armchair in front of the door. When he had placed it squarely in front of his visitors, Ford sat down, crossing his legs and rubbing a hand on his chin as casually as if he were being interviewed on a morning talk show. He fell silent, thinking, and then leaned forward. "I suppose, in a way, everything is connected," he said at last, shifting his gaze between Chloe and Ryan. "Many years ago, my mother came to power within an organization in Kalos called the Signs. It was a . . . culture into which I was born, one that I was raised to love and embrace. When I was very young, I inherited the Symbol of Famine from my mother, and with it, the mantle of Shift, becoming one of its four leaders. Of course, being but a child, I needed guidance, which I received from two of my elders--Eve Dawson, wielder of the Symbol of Death and the mantle of Clue; and Gethin Pollux, High Mage of the Signs. Together, these two taught me everything I needed--to know, to lead, to see, to survive." Ford paused, thinking. "I lived that way for some time--leading the Signs, directing my kin." Ford breathed a long sigh. "Until about . . . twenty years ago now, just on the eve of Team Rocket's ascent to power. I became aware of certain indicators that something big awaited the world--many somethings, beginning with the fall of Giovanni and the rise of Team Rocket--an . . . unsettling prediction that ended up true--perhaps by coincidence, perhaps by fate. Either way, it spurred me on. I studied. I consulted. And I found the traces that it left for me to find." Ford stirred in his seat, shifting his jaw. "Seventeen years ago, I discovered what I believed to be the solution to the problem," he continued. "The ritual came to me in a sort of dream, and I recorded the tenets upon awakening. The most basic of these, I believe you know--the assistance of Nine Children, the swear to secrecy. I began to recruit my Children. The first was young Paris Ebner from Unova, aged fifteen . . ." Ford clenched his jaw, looking down at his hands in silence. He cleared his throat before speaking again, though did not look up. "Paris was followed the next year by Sophia Baron, aged fifteen, and another year later by Tiana Soldati, also aged fifteen, both from Unova. Each of them served with me for the next eight years, accompanied only by each other. We became family--they my son and daughters, and each other their brother and sisters . . ." He fell silent again, overcome--perhaps for the first time in a long time--by emotion. He wiped his eyes with one hand. When Ford had composed himself, he continued again, his voice noticeably more tired. "The next two to enter the fold," he said. "were Tyler McKinley, aged fifteen, and Thomas Warren, aged seventeen--seven and five years ago. I knew them as Seth Gacheru and Raymond Roth--though I believe the latter was a simplification of Warren's true name, made for the sake of fitting in with his peers. When I found them, both Seth and Raymond were outcasts, considered freaks in a world that had no place for those without a defined role. Seth was too strange, too loose; Raymond too . . . angry. Classy kid, though--liked to wear a monocle." Ford chuckled. "I brought them in, gave them a place in our world. They worked specialized operations, targeting individuals to gauge or remove them, training for the day when they would serve that very same purpose against our enemy." After a deep breath, Ford finally raised his head again. "Their record was impeccable, until their final two missions. The first, they insisted, meant nothing--they insisted it was a minor slip-up on a job that they had felt unimportant, half-baked, to begin with. Despite my misgivings, they convinced me to allow them to go forward with their final mission, into the prison itself. Perhaps I should have known better." He shook his head. "All I know from this point is what was reported to me by McKinley upon his return. The Fourth and the Fifth went, and they failed--now, I see, with disastrous results. It was a reconnaissance mission, first and foremost--a test to gauge the monster's status. Combat was a secondary priority. If it turned out to be dangerous in its imprisoned state, they were to retreat and return, fighting only to secure their escape. What they found was the Mask of Ice, and a creature that had gorged on fresh meat, giving it fresh material to create its foot soldiers. It attacked, and they did not retreat--not soon enough. Warren was always quick to a violent response. He fought, and soon, he was overwhelmed and devoured. McKinley returned--injured, bedridden for months, but alive." Ford paused. "He was never the same after that. We merely chalked it up to trauma shredding his mind . . . I suppose, though, that being reconfigured into a facsimile of one's self might as well have the same result." The Shadowed Man fell silent for some time. He breathed deeply, lost in his own thoughts. "And so we are here," he said. "My Children and I, dead or imprisoned. All of our work turned on its head, undone by our own attempts at salvaging the world from a future of death and destruction . . ."

IC - Goldhawk - Command Center, The Alamo: "Find another team to cover the investigation for you," Goldhawk responded. He locked his briefcase shut and pulled it from the table. "Our last agent to go to Kalos alone barely made it home after being abducted and tortured by another criminal organization there, and that was without any previous injuries. We cannot risk that happening again with an agent already injured and without any Pokémon at full battling capability." IC - John Ford - Ford's Cell, Prison Block: "All I know for certain is that, in its prison dimension, its slaves could be killed by severing their umbilical cords," Ford said. "I have no idea if that holds true any longer." He let go of the gate, retreating back into his cell. For several moments, Ford paced back and forth across the space, eyes clouded with thought. At last, he stopped, lifting his head to stare at the ceiling and then back at the visitors outside his door. "That frustration in your eyes is familiar to me," he told Chloe. Ford walked back to the door, arms crossed and eyes settling on hers. "Thomas Warren, the original Fifth Child, often gave me much the same look as you're giving me now. Said I was too cryptic in my endeavors, that perhaps a more direct and aggressive approach would serve us better in destroying the threat . . ." Ford shook his head. "Perhaps he was right, though I can't say seeking it out proved a very beneficial for him in the end. Had I stuck to my methods, perhaps he would have lived to see this mess . . . Or perhaps this particular mess would never have come to pass, with the Fourth untainted by our enemy's evil . . ." IC - Kyle Eston/Executive Elena Seaver - Daycare, The Alamo: In the Daycare, the world may as well have been the same as ever. Young and newborn Pokémon--and even those older ones that had been temporarily left in the care of Team Liberty--frolicked about the garden, playing together and with other visiting agents and their families without a care in the world. One group of children and Pokémon currently playing Tag almost bowled Kyle over as he stepped through the doors, shouting out hasty apologies before continuing on their chase. Kyle stared after them, unable to stop a small smile from forming. He couldn't remember the last time he had just let himself have total, no-strings-attached fun. Part of him was a little envious--particularly since his presence in the Daycare wasn't even by his own choosing. He made a mental note to volunteer more often, perhaps try to take advantage of the relaxed environment it offered. "Kyle Eston!" Executive Seaver had descended the stairs of the Observation Deck. Kyle turned around and began to salute her, but she quickly waved him off. "That's not necessary--it makes me feel old. How are you doing? I heard about what happened in Kalos, and then on Two Island. You healing all right?" "I'm fine. Thanks for asking," Kyle answered, opting not to mention the sorry state of his ribs and lungs. "I'm glad to see everything's going well here. I take it there haven't been any issues with that Bronzong recently?" "I hope not--its trainer picked it up a couple of months ago," Seaver said. She patted him on the shoulder. "Well, I'm glad to hear everything's going well. And I'm sorry for the sudden call--this just came up not too long ago and it's . . . a little time sensitive because of today's emergency mission announcement." Kyle frowned. "May I ask what's going on?" "You'll know in a minute," Seaver said. She walked toward the Observation Deck. "Follow me--we'll explain everything." 'We'll explain everything,' Kyle silently repeated. He followed after her, slipping his hands into his pockets. Context clues would normally be enough to figure out what was going on, but in this case, he really wasn't sure of the situation. Evidence suggested it was serious and not serious, and that more than anything threw him off. Maybe I'm too used to dealing with people like Silvermind . . . He shook his head. That was one benefit to the situation: Elena Seaver was certainly not the same kind of person as Selene Ashera. Given the choice between a secret mission from either of them . . . Well, the choice wasn't hard. Executive Seaver was waiting for him on the deck. Another woman was there already, leaning on the railing and watching the activity below, her black hair swept behind her ear. At first, Kyle didn't recognize her--not because he did not know who she was, but because seeing her out of the television and out of the middle of a life-or-death crisis was such a drastic change from what he was used to that he really wasn't certain how he was supposed to react. Next to him, Executive Seaver began to speak, calling the woman's attention. He didn't catch any of what Seaver said, up until she started to introduce the two to each other. "Agent Eston, this is Eileen Alaric, First Lady of Kanto," she said. "Mrs. Alaric, Agent Kyle Eston." "A pleasure to meet you," Eileen said, stepping forward and offering a hand. "Formally, at least." She nodded to Seaver, who excused herself and headed back down the stairs. "You, too, ma'am," Kyle said slowly, shaking her hand. "I take it you're the one who actually wanted to see me." "I am," Eileen said. "Elijah is on his way--he and I have a request for you, but before that . . ." She paused, glancing over the railing as she considered what she was going to say. "Come stand with me." She leaned again against the safety bar, taking in the sight of the enclosed Daycare. Hesitantly, Kyle moved next to her, resting his hands on the railing. "Technology is amazing these days, isn't it?" Eileen asked. "The kinds of gardens and enclosures that can be made and maintained despite being cut off from the natural world is simply breathtaking." For a moment, she stood silent, simply listening. "Mr. Eston, what do you see in front of you?" "Well . . . a lot of trees," Kyle said. "An artificial lake. A giant checkerboard of skylights . . ." Judging from the growing awkwardness in the air, Kyle could tell that there was a specific answer that he wasn't providing. He fell silent, thinking, looking closer. Sunshine poured in through the ceiling, casting a brilliant glow upon the trees and water, illuminating the enclosure with glitter. Executive Seaver tended to a patch of bushes abloom with a kaleidoscope of colorful flowers. A pair of volunteers tended to the sutures on a wounded Tauros. A group of three girls and a boy continued their game of tag with a Furret, a Zigzagoon, and a Phantump. Nearby, another boy watched from the shade of a tree, occasionally ducking beneath the book in his hands. "I see . . . people," Kyle said at last. "People and Pokémon. Kids playing together, enjoying life--kids being happy . . ." The answer brought a smile to Eileen's face. "Kids and Pokémon," she repeated. "Sons and daughters enjoying the gift of life--including mine." After a moment, she turned back to Kyle, eyes and smile both alight with a soft and appreciative glow. "I want to sincerely thank you for what you did on Two Island. There was a moment once that final chamber broke out into chaos where it looked like those . . . things were going to get my son. But you saved him. Amidst everything that he can't bring himself to talk about from this entire ordeal with Ford, that is one of the few things that he can." She placed her hands on his shoulders and pulled Kyle into a hug. "Thank you so much, Mr. Eston." The change in mood and accompanying action were so sudden that Kyle wasn't sure how to respond. Finally he managed to return the hug with a meek, "You're welcome." She let him go and step back, allowing Kyle to regain his bearings. "I . . . Really, it was nothing. Any of my friends there would have done the same. I just happened to be closest to him." "That doesn't change the fact that it was you." Sleight's arrival was sudden and quiet. At the sound of his voice, Kyle jumped and instinctively shifted into a salute. To his surprise, Sleight saluted him back, and then offered his hand. "Seriously--we cannot thank you enough." "Of . . . Of course, sir," Kyle said. He shook Sleight's hand. Part of him wasn't convinced that this wasn't a delusion. He had only ever spoken with Sleight once, when he and Ray had taken Jupiter to inform Team Rocket about Envy. It was hard to believe that that had happened barely a month ago. Back then, he had never expected to see Sleight in person, let alone speak with him in his own office. Now Sleight was treating him like an equal. How had so much changed in such a short span of time? He needed to distract himself before he said something stupid. "Was there something you wanted me to help with, too?" "There is," Sleight said. He walked past Kyle, crossing his arms and staring out at the expanse of the Daycare. "You remember what was learned when you and the others encountered Ford in the Egg?" Kyle nodded. "Then you know that this . . . creature--this Missing Zero--is perhaps the biggest threat to life on Earth, and that we know virtually nothing about it." "I hadn't quite heard it described in those terms," Kyle said. "But yes, I understand." "Boiled down to the basics, that is the situation," Sleight said. "You're aware of the mission alert that went out not too long ago?" Again, Kyle nodded. "This mission aims to serve as a reconnaissance operation, such that we are able to learn more about how Missing Zero functions, how it fights. It is a sensitive operation, one that will require utmost care and a heavy dose of luck to make worthwhile the potential losses that we face by embarking on it." The more Sleight talked, the faster Kyle felt his heart beat. "You want me to go on this mission?" Eileen and Sleight exchanged glances. "No," she said. "It's . . . the closer to the opposite, actually." "This won't be the last operation against Missing Zero," Sleight said. "Even in the worst-case scenario, it won't be the bloodiest encounter. That distinction will go to the moment this thing manages to attack an unprepared, still-populated city. Team Liberty and Team Rocket will continue to face it again and again until either it gives out, or we do. And as members of Team Rocket's leadership, that means that we--" He gestured to himself and Eileen. "--are going to have to fight it over and over again, until one side fails." "That could be tomorrow, or it could be months or even years from now," Eileen said. "But either way, we have to be prepared for that scenario. We have to have a contingency plan for Levi and . . ." She paused, taking a breath. "Levi and Liam." She shook her head at Kyle's confused expression at the latter name. "Please, don't ask--it's a painful story for another time. The point is, we need someone to take care of Levi--someone to watch him, to be there for him through all of this. And we think you can do that for him." A deep silence fell on them as Kyle mulled all of this over. He felt a confused cocktail of emotions--surprise, embarrassment, confusion, apprehension, even a little . . . humbled. He stared out across the Daycare again, finding the boy with the book beneath the tree once more. He had retreated further from the group of his peers, hiding in the shadows, pulling back even as the blue-eyed Phantump tried to get him to join in the game. "I really don't know . . ." Kyle said. "I mean, why me, of all people? Honestly, I'm not in the best of health right now. Not to mention I've been fighting against Team Rocket for all of my life . . . Why me and not someone trained to protect others--Elite Rockets, an entire team of them assigned to protect him?" Eileen bowed her head, chuckling. "That's fair to ask," she said, moving to stand next to her husband. "The thing is, Levi's a . . . nervous kid. Always has been. He doesn't come out of his shell easily, and he's only become more closed-off since his brother died." Kyle looked at her. "So when he finds someone who cares--who really tries to help him--he takes a . . . a special interest." She looked at Kyle. "You saved his life. Maybe you did it out of instinct, but that doesn't make it any less significant, especially to him." She smiled. "You've got a fan, Mr. Eston. Even if he just likes the idea of you, that's something to build upon." Kyle stared ahead, falling silent once again. He remained that way for quite a while--an eternity, it felt like, though it could not have been more than a few moments. All the while, his eyes remained locked on Levi and the Phantump, now curled up together and sleeping against the trunk of a tree. Levi's book was tucked under his head as a makeshift pillow; the Phantump simply rested against Levi's stomach. He's only become more closed-off since his brother died . . . Eileen's words echoed in his head. Suddenly he wasn't standing in the Daycare, but in the cemetery again, in front of those graves--one for his mother, one for the brother he would never get to meet . . . The railing was warm against Kyle's hands and forehead. He had crossed his arms, bending his head down and resting it on the metal. He took a slow breath in, and then loose a slow breath out. "You know, I always have wanted a little brother . . ." He straightened up, spacing out his hands and pushing back against the metal until he was standing upright. He nodded to himself even as he addressed the Alarics, all the while keeping his eyes on Levi. "Alright. I'll do it."

IC - John Ford - Ford's Cell, Prison Block: "I am aware," Ford said. "The Second and I advised against it. They would not listen. So here we are." Ford pushed himself to his feet. He took a moment to adjust his coat and then walked to the door, sizing up the four trainers at his door. "I believe I already told you all that this creature exists solely to eat, did I not?" The cold prison bars pressed against his face as he leaned against them. "As far as I can tell, that is what it does--it eats and grows, and by eating and growing, it spreads, allowing it to eat and grow even more--an endless cycle that will eventually allow it to spread across the planet. If the forces going to research it first-hand are not careful, then they will be devoured now rather than later. And if that happens, likely the only chance anyone will have of seeing them again is if it decides to use them to create another of its soldiers." IC - Sonja Baron/Ethan Worth/Sophia Baron - Hayes's Cell, Prison Block: It took only a moment for Sophia's expression to harden again. "What are you doing here?" Sonja frowned. "So that's what that feels like," she muttered, ignoring the bemused look that Ethan gave her. "We need your help with something." A flash of light illuminated the hallway, temporarily blinding the three trainers. When her vision cleared, a smile forced its way onto Sophia's face. 'Mewthree' stood before her, the confusion on its face fully reflecting what Sophia felt. Were it not for its current lack of psychic abilities, the Mewtwo might have greeted her and expressed said confusion. As things stood, it fell on Sophia to verbally relay those emotions. "Does it involve Mewtwo, and if not, why is it here?" she asked. "Actually, might as well repeat--what are you doing here?" "Oh my gosh stop talking and I'll explain," Sonja replied in one quick breath. "So Evan said that you and Ford haven't been able to provide any intel to the brass--" "I said they hadn't welcomed our counsel with open arms." "Either way," Sonja continued. "It occurred to us that if they won't listen, we probably should get some better direction from you, ourselves. Not only that, but Mewtwo here fought against that thing and its minions for . . . What did Ford say? Seven months?" "Seven months," Ethan affirmed, as much to help as to confirm that he was still present. "Seven months. We figured Mewtwo might know some stuff about them. The only problem is, it can't currently talk right now, but since you're psychic . . ." "So," Sophia said slowly. "You want to use me to talk to Mewtwo." "I mean, we want to talk to you, too," Ethan said. "Just . . . not as much?" She glared at him. Ethan held his hands up. "Hey, Evan already came and tried to talk to you. You could've told him everything you have to say while he was here." Sophia Baron had no retort.

IC - Goldhawk - Command Center, The Alamo: "Rumors of what?" Goldhawk did not appear to be concerned about the argument between his two Agents.

IC - Esen Windred/Skye Hall - Command Center, The Alamo: Skye's face burned. Was her inexperience that obvious? "Um . . . sure," she said. "Yeah--let's go." IC - Goldhawk - Command Center, The Alamo: Xander did not have to wait long. The conference room doors opened, and the assembled leadership filed out--all except for Goldhawk. He remained in the room, standing behind a chair. With one hand, he leaned against the chair; with the other, he rubbed exhaustion from his eyes. With his vision blurred, it took him a moment to notice that Xander had entered. "Yes?" IC - John Ford - Ford's Cell, Prison Block: Visitors. Who would have thought? Had he been forewarned, Ford might have gone to more trouble to make himself presentable. As things stood, he instead slouched in an armchair, chin propped on his hand, staring blankly at the wall before him, lost in thought. Only half of his face was visible from the door, illuminated by the light in the hall. The other half lay in darkness, as dark as his exposed half was pale. Ryan's question stirred him. His eyes moved across the wall, down to the floor, and then closed. He dropped his hand. "Do your superiors know that you're here?" he asked. Ford shook his head, not even waiting for an answer. "I cannot tell you. Not because I am unwilling, but because I do not know. McKinley's interference threw my counter-spell into flux. With the return of human abilities, it is obvious that it still worked, but I have no idea why it has not affected Pokémon yet. It could be mere days until the power recharge takes effect, or it could be weeks--possibly months or years. There's simply no telling."

IC - Esen Windred/Skye Hall - Command Center, The Alamo: "Sure!" Skye agreed, before Esen could respond. "I don't know what we're doing between now and then, though. I don't suppose you have any ideas?" IC - Sonja Baron/Ethan Worth - Jail Block, The Alamo: "Searchers," Ethan repeated. "That's a name I haven't heard in a long time . . . A long time . . ." And that was all that was said of the matter. They had a stop to make before heading to the prison block: Executive Ladon's office. Though Ladon eyed Executive Arthur's signature with some suspicion, she nonetheless accepted the letter. All things considered, the meeting went exactly as Sonja had figured it would--short, terse, and somewhat tense, but ultimately productive. With the approval of three Executives in hand, the group proceeded to the elevators. Processing their entry into the prison block took some time, and so they took a moment in the lobby to compile the questions they wanted to ask. Before long, they were led down the halls to their quarries. They came upon a junction, at which point the group split--Sonja and Ethan to Hayes's cell while Evan, Ryan, Luke, and Chloe headed to Ford's. The walk to Hayes cell did not take long. The light was on when they arrived, but no sounds of movement came from within. Sonja gave their escort an apprehensive smile, silently hinting that she and Ethan would be fine on their own. The guard took the hint, moving down the hall until he was out of earshot. Ethan knocked on the wall beside the gate, peering in. "Miss Hayes?" he called. "We've got some questions for you, if you don't mind the intrusion." Silence. Then, Hayes appeared, arms crossed and her brow furrowed in annoyance from the second interruption that day. Upon seeing who her visitors were, however, her expression softened into one of surprise. "Sonja?" Sonja offered a half-smile. "Hey, sis."