Hmm...what morphic forms can I project? he wondered idly, trying several illusions on himself. A wave at the wall before him, and it was suddenly a reflective surface. After rejecting various ideas, he finally settled on a morphic Rapidash male, set up a psychic force field in case anyone touched him, then went to the hard part: choosing a false name.
Now what kind of name would a Rapidash have? He ran through several more ideas, then realised, Eh, no one'll care because I can't talk anyways. This illusion is at the non-speaking point already, just like a normal nearly-full changed Rapidash morph would be. I won't be suspicious at all.
He decided to go with the name FireRunner, just in case. Then he stepped out into the streets of San Fransisco.
~-~-~-~
A local prison guard on the night shift - an Arcanine
morph - sat at his desk, feeling rather bored, thinking about the Moltres
morph held within the cell up the hall.
It was strange, really. Four other legendary morphs
had brought her in, unconscious. They'd demanded for a cell - fireproof,
for preference. They'd carted her in, utilized the chains that were kept
generally for fighting-types - much better to have cells which could cater
for various types, more efficient - and, after a short conversation with
her, had left, leaving her there.
He'd checked later, and found that they'd unchained
her, but she wasn't making any effort to escape. She just sat on the floor,
moping. He'd passed food and water to her, but she had ignored them, just
stared at him through the impenetrably thick glass window. Whenever he
came by, she was there, staring at him. He'd talked to the other guards
about it, and they said the same. Didn't she sleep?
He didn't understand.
He was still pondering it when he heard a sound
from the entrance. Relief? He thought for a moment, then remembered
that it was far too early for the shift to be over yet.
It turned out to be another Arcanine morph, just
like himself. He watched the newcomer warily, suspiscious - what would
someone be doing here at this time of ni-
Before he could see it coming, the other swung a
heavy kick at his head. Stunned, he was thrown off his chair and some way
across the floor, dazed and disorientated.
The next few minutes were a bit of a blur. Something
hit him in the back, and he must've been knocked out or something, because
everything went black for a moment, and he couldn't feel anything. But
then it was back, and he was standing up. The other guy was just watching
him, unmoving.
He felt himself move over to the switchboard, and
look over the switches. He hit one, then closed the cover again, before
moving back to his seat. His head moved down, his eyes closed...
As his head cleared, he started. There was no sign
of the other who had attacked him. It had all been a dream, perhaps. His
head didn't hurt anymore. But weren't dreams supposed to not hurt?
His head went to the cover over the switchboard.
He was almost afraid to check whether the switch had been changed. His
head turned back, rested on his hands, all of their own accord... but he
quickly convinced himself that he had moved of his own accord, he just
didn't want to check.
It wasn't until his relief came that he realised
it might've been true. He tried to relate his strange story, but found
himself unable to. He just said hello and goodbye, and went home.
He considered waking his wife to tell her about
it, but soon found that impossible too. But he found panicking strangely
difficult, lethargy overwhelming him.
His last thought was of the tiny switch on the board,
one very rarely used. The one that disabled the anti-psychic field around
the jail, preventing the use of psychic blasts to escape, and teleportation
to and from the building...
~-~-~-~
"Welcome, last of the legendaries, to my labs..."
Jake, the Jolteon anthro, smiled and bowed half-mockingly as he showed
them into the huge building.
It was all rather makeshift, really, but still looked
impressive. A group of very tired-looking and bleary-eyed scientists were
examining a series of monitors clustered on either side of a hollow column
where the yellow/red pokeball sat, leads and scanners all over the place.
Another group, a little more interested, worked near another tube, where
the previously captured Pidgeot anthro stood, half-floating in the liquid,
breathing through a modified mask, wearing nothing more than was necessary
for decency and with even more scanners and leads all around.
The trio looked at him as he stared blankly into
the opposite wall. Richie turned to Jake.
"Have you found out how to break it yet?"
"I'm afraid we're still not sure..." Jake sighed.
"Silph have worked to keep this is a pretty big secret, but... nobody really
understands pokeballs that much. They know how to make them, but don't
actually know how they work. A pokemon captured by a normal ball is conditioned
to accept its master's... well, mastery. It's not a permanent or irreversable
thing, usually... and the pokemon, if it's strong-willed, can resist, right?"
They nodded.
"If a normal, inhabited pokeball is destroyed, it
can severely damage the pokemon's mind, depending on how much it had been
conditioned to begin with. Some pokemon don't accept the ball's conditioning
because they already admire the capturer... it's all very confusing, and
no-one really knows exactly how it works. Got me so far?
"Well, these balls seem to work in a different way.
Human minds are considerably more difficult to reprogram than pokemon ones.
So this thing bypasses the mind and takes direct control of the body, leaving
the consciousness untouched..." He trailed off, and walked up to the tube
to look up at the Pidgeot's blank face. "We've found brain activity in
there, so he's still thinking. He's alive and awake and watching us from
in there, but completely unable to even twitch a muscle..."
They shuddered at the thought of this... somehow,
it was almost worse than having their minds conditioned to be slaves of
the monster. Jake rounded onto them again, continuing his explaination.
"From what we know, scientists have gone some way
into researching what makes the pokeball tick - they've made some upgraded
versions, Great Ball and such. I think they might've only been a couple
of years off making one that always caught - and working out how to remove
pokemon from the effects of pokeballs without damaging the pokemon."
"...Can't you... release pokemon?"
"Only the trainer could do that, and only with certain
pokemon. And even if it was done, the pokemon would still be slightly under
the control of the trainer... there are many cases of such pokemon going
insane, because a little thing in the back of their brains keeps telling
them that they need to be with their trainer... A pokemon that ran away
from his trainer would have the same effect, but it would be stronger,
since the trainer hadn't let them officially out of the pokeball."
"And..." They looked at the ball.
"This thing is amazingly more complex than the old
versions. Several very interesting quirks, too." He sighed. "Most pokeballs
are designed to have the thrower imprinted as the designated "catcher",
if you will. Shortly after the capture, if the ball changes hands, then
the new owner will be impressed, but after that, then whoever threw the
ball is the owner of the pokemon, and the pokemon will usually obey them
above all others."
"And this one?"
"The identity of the owner is directly keyed in.
If I used one to capture someone, he'd still be the boss."
They looked shocked. "Anything else?"
"I think I know what would happen if the ball was
to be destroyed..." He said hesitantly, as if not quite prepared to tell
them this.
"What would happen?"
"Well, if you destroy a normal ball, then the compusion
it creates in the pokemon's mind is immediately removed..." He said slowly.
"But what was there earlier isn't replaced. So if you destroy one of these
balls, the owner's control of the... uh... 'pokemon' is destroyed, and
he wouldn't be able to order them..."
"But?"
"It's a fairly good guess that they wouldn't be
able to control their body either." He said, cringing for the outburst
that he was sure would follow. "They'd end up just like this guy here,
a fully aware mind in the body of a vegetable..."
"What?!" All three of them cried together. He hung
his head sadly.
"I... I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have told
you that... but it would be catastrophic if you destroyed one of the balls,
thinking it might save them..."
"Then how the hell are we supposed to help them?"
Eric raged.
Jake was silent, staring at the floor. Silver gave
a horrible groan. The other two looked confused for a moment, then caught
on.
"You... you can't... there must be a-"
"I'm afraid we're just not sure..." He said sadly.
"However, there is one thing we think would probably work..."
"What?"
"Killing the master."
There was silence for a moment. Laura spoke thoughtfully
but severely. "Killing the Charizard... I hate to say this, but the idea
sounds extremely attractive at the moment."
"I wouldn't talk about killing so casually, Laura.
Remember - it's most likely that before you could get near him you would
have to fight off your own friends under his control... and I wouldn't
go underestimating him either. I got your friend's psychic image too, just
before... anyway, he doesn't exactly look like a pushover. Your power lies
in fire, and he's also a fire-type... and he's got the physical strength
to back it up. Legendary or not, you probably would not win a fight with
him..."
"Then what are we supposed to do? Just sit around
and wait for him to strike? Surrender to his will so he can rule the world
with us?"
"...No. We see if we can make you more powerful."
"And how do you expect us to do that?"
"This lab isn't just for experimenting. We've decided
it would be best if we all had a bit more battle experience, and so we've
been setting up some nice little virtual equipment..."
"Virtual reality sets?" Thunder asked thoughtfully.
"I've heard about them... some trainers who didn't believe in hurting other
pokemon or having their own hurt used them to build up experience, right?."
"That's right. But they never really caught on,
for many reasons: Too expensive, not-quite-realistic pokemon, and some
attacks damage the sets somewhat. But they've been improving over the years,
and we've got a set that's about as good as they get... And if I'm any
judge, you're going to need it."
~-~-~-~
Josh walked into the computer store, his illusory
hooves clicking on the floor. He was getting used to projecting the illusion
of a Rapidash morph, but there was one little problem. He
couldn't speak like one. And if he used the little Telepathy he had
gained control of over the past few hours, he would be seen through immediately.
Sticking with sign language, he applied for a job
as a computer repairman. Luckily, the manager of the store knew sign language
and the two were able to communicate rather easily. After an hour of demonstrating
his computer skills, he was given his first paycheck and sent home.
Josh dropped the Rapidash morph illusion as he stepped
through the door. I'm back, he called to Cella with his weak telepathy.
He still didn't have fine control over it, but enough to
communicate with.
"Did you find a job?" the Raichu morph asked as
she stepped into the room, a beer can in one hand. She finished it off
and tossed the can over her shoulder.
Yes. A computer store downtown, he said,
reaching into her refrigerator and getting a glass of milk for himself.
He didn't drink beer, which was just fine with Cella. All the more for
her.
Josh managed to spill only a third of the glass
all over his short Mewtwo muzzle, and onto the floor. Dangit. There's
gotta be an easier way to do that.
"So where do you come from anyway?" Cella asked.
Josh shrugged, and pointed off east. Thataway
"And why've you come out here?" She asked. He didn't
say anything for a moment, as he nuked a ham sandwich with a fine-tuned
Psybeam. Long story. he said as he munched. I don't think I could
keep talking long enough to explain it all. I'm being hunted...
"Hunted?" She jumped up in alarm.
Don't worry, they don't know where I am. I teleported
randomly - even I didn't know where I was, until you told me.
She settled down again, uneasily. "What on
earth could have a Mewtwo morph on the run like that?"
He was silent for a moment, then continued. Believe
me, it's worth being afraid of. There's one man at the centre of it, a
Charizard morph... a powerful one, at that. Him, by himself, I could probably
destroy without breaking a sweat...
"But...?"
He has pokeballs, capable of holding morphs.
He already has six legendary pokemon under his control, maybe more since
I left. I don't know enough about my powers to fight back against that
many. And even if I could beat them all...
"Yes?"
He turned to her. They're my friends, Cella.
Two of the others he captured - I've known them since I was about two.
The others... I used to hate them. But they're in the same position as
us now. I can't kill them, for his e~
Josh was silent for a moment, before he realised
that his telepathy had cut out. He realised he had been wearing himself
out between the emotion and the telepathy, and glanced at Cella for forgiveness.
She was visibly shaken. "I... I never heard of such
a thing... How could someone do that?"
Josh reverted back to sign language, telling her
that he was sorry to have scared her so - and pleading with her not to
tell anyone of his presence here, something he should've done much earlier.
She didn't fully understand the guestures, but got
the general idea. "Don't worry, I'm fine. And I wouldn't dream of telling
anyone you were here..."
He nodded his thanks, and moved onto the couch to
rest. Within seconds, his eyes were closed, his breathing deep and regular.
Cella slowly walked over to look at his sleeping
form - or was it? Under the eyelids, his usually deep purple eyes glowed
a light blue...
~-~-~-~
Damian sat meditatively, Holly beside him, as he
concentrated on searching the psychic planes. It didn't take long for him
to locate the final trio of legendaries. They were battling, and as such
their minds were sharp and easy to lock onto, especially Silver.
But what could they be fighting? Concentrating all
Gold's efforts on the scene, he looked out through Silver's eyes...
He saw a hundred morphs coming at her, snarling
and growling, powering up attacks. He gave a slight start - why on earth
would she be fighting such beings? As he watched, she unleashed a Hyper
beam, cutting down many in their tracks... but so many more moved to attack.
His attention was pulled from the scene as he felt
Holly next to him about to give a message to the psychically-connected
Silver, and willed her pain receptors to flare. He felt the pain through
the psychic link and reveled in it, but realised his mistake when Silver
- also linked - suddenly screeched and collapsed.
Cursing inwardly, Damian was about to cut the connection
when he saw the image in front of him fade and disappear. Something came
off Silver's eyes, to reveal three figures - the two
remaining boys and... a Jolteon?
He pulled out. Hn... virtual reality training? Interesting
idea. So they'd aquired a new ally. What was a Jolteon going to do to him
or his ultra-powerful troops?
Abandoning the four legendaries, Damian set Holly
to search for Blue, worldwide. It was technically impossible... but a psychic
power as powerful as his wouldn't be too hard to locate...
Would it?
~-~-~-~
Way off in California, Blue was doing something very
similar.
Though he appeared to be asleep, his mind was simply
elsewhere - searching the psychic planes for signs of his friends. Like
Damian, he had located the trio of remaining legendaries fairly easily.
They hadn't been captured yet, that was a relief...
But even as his psychic searching scanned the town,
it touched on something else. He felt his searching probe come into contact
with another's, and in a brilliant flash he saw the being
who had captured his friends, his psychic image superimposed on Holly's.
His eyes immediately snapped open, and his psychic
glow faded away. If he'd felt it, then it had probably felt him...
~-~-~-~
Damian grinned as he let Holly drop the psychic probe.
He'd found Josh. Or at least the general direction in which he lay...
Two figures were standing before him, he realised.
His servants. Each held out a pokeball to him.
Time to leave this city... Josh was a much finer
target at present. He recalled all the legendaries. But they wouldn't know.
They wouldn't be able to contact their friends, tell them of his plans...