Chapter 63: On the Horizon

Lich was one of Daryl Jones's newest pokémon but also one of his oldest. He wasn't even looking for a new team member when he found her, but he figured that was how life worked sometimes. After competing in the South African Invitational, he had taken time to travel the continent, battling trainers and uncovering little-known battling techniques. During his travels, he came across a low-tech village where the villagers spoke of a great evil that haunted the town and tormented those who lived there. Daryl was morbidly curious about the whole thing and decided to take a break from his training to investigate. After some sleuthing, he found out that the boogeyman in question was a Spititomb, and an absurdly powerful one at that. One grueling battle and twenty ultra balls later, Daryl not only managed to subdue the ghost, but capture her as well. Originally, his intent was to remove the being plaguing the town and take her to a place where she couldn't harm anybody, but admiring her strength, he offered her a role on his team. Respecting Daryl's strategic mind and firm hand as a trainer, the Spiritomb accepted. But her acceptance did not make her any easier to train or command.

Despite her towering intelligence, Lich was, to put it bluntly, batshit insane. Even though ghost-types were often stereotyped as being bizarre, Lich took that up to eleven. It was like letting a toddler drive a tank. When the Spiritomb listened to her trainer, she was an effective battler, but when she was off in her own world during an intense battle, it was like flipping a coin. For that reason, Daryl didn't like to rely on her as his anchor, but in his second battle against Isabella Vega, the final member he had to face of the Elite Four, he had no choice.

Isabella Vega was the oldest member of the Elite Four, close to fifty years old, and one of the most experienced. That said, she also had the most to lose. While a fantastic trainer, her win to loss ratio had been slipping over the past few years, meaning that every victory she achieved was critical. If Daryl were to become champion, there was a good chance that Richard Kaiser would be vying for her spot if he couldn't win in his Elite Four rematch. Even if Daryl lost to the Elite Four, who was to say that he wouldn't propose a challenge for her spot? Therefore, she had to win. But her prospects were not looking too good.

Daryl had won the first battle with two pokémon to spare. Their second battle was far more even and coming to a close. Lich was on the field, having to anchor after an unfortunate circumstance that Boss had faced earlier and she was facing off against Vega's nicknameless Sceptile. But despite the oversized gecko being Vega's strongest pokémon, she was struggling with the chaos that was Lich. Already, she was battered and bruised, but she had one more trick up her sleeve.

[She falls! She fails! Weeps and wails! Cannot touch me with her tail! This fight has grown both dull and stale!] Lich sang telepathically, horribly out of tune as each of the hundred and eight voices within her tried to sing simultaneously. All the while, she was hopping around, the stone her purple body extended from making a loud clunking noise every time it hit the ground.

"Lich, keep it together! She's about to go mega!" Daryl shouted, getting a bit anxious with what was coming. Strong as she was, there was a good chance that Lich would do something stupid and cost them the match. Daryl would still have one more against Vega if he lost, but given how she was adapting to him since their first match, he didn't want it to come to that.

Just as he predicted, the final Elite Four member called for the mega evolution. Letting out a shrill, high-pitched roar, the Sceptile glowed white and with a burst, she emerged in her final form. She gained about a foot in height, packed significantly more muscle, her tail extended in length, and the sharp leaves on her arms and tail grew longer and sharper. Truly, a magnificent beast to behold. Curiously, what stood out about her was her stance. She stood with her back to Lich, looking back over her shoulder. It came across as if she didn't recognize the ghost as a threat.

[Your arrogance shall be your downfall!] Lich screamed maniacally.

"Lich, wait!" Daryl shouted, but he was ignored, as the ghost shot a Shadow Ball straight at her foe's back. But the shadowy blob was obliterated by a quick slash of the Sceptile's sharp tail. That was why she stood with her back to her opponent. But what was scary was how fast the tail whipped. It was a "blink and you miss it" moment. "She's too fast! Set up a Trick Roo-"

"Leaf Blade!"

Before the ghost could create a zone of slowness, the Sceptile burst through with a Leaf Blade, dealing a critical blow. The Spiritomb was able to set up a Trick Room on the second attempt, but it didn't quite work as expected. The shaded zone Lich created did slow down her foe, but the Sceptile was still moving quite quickly, at about the speed that she was moving before the mega evolution. Her new form was so fast that this was her "slow" speed. The Trick Room would also allow Lich to move quicker, but compared to the Sceptile, she was still way too sluggish.

"Leaf Blade!"

"Sucker Punch!"

"Thunder Punch!"

"Dark Pulse!"

The Sceptile gracefully dodged that last attack, landing an electrified punch. It went on like that for some time, as both sides were throwing out attacks, but Vega's monster was winning the exchange. At the end of the day, the gecko was hitting harder and more often compared to the sluggish Spiritomb. There was no need to try anything fancy if she was dominating the battle. The only other move occasionally being used was Detect to dodge one of Lich's burst moves. So, as usual, Daryl needed to try something a little bit alternative. If he wanted to defeat the stronger opponent, he would need Lich to deceive her with faulty intentions.

"Blow her away! Ominous Wind!"

Unless colored by dirt or physical objects, air or wind typically doesn't have a color. But Lich's Ominous Wind was the exception. Using demonic energy, the Spiritomb created a dark purple wind that ravaged the battlefield. Upon hitting a foe, they would be worn down by the wind, feeling exhaustion and out of breath, but the Sceptile avoided that fate. She used Detect to expertly dodge the dangerous parts of the wind, exiting unscathed. But that was okay, because there was a second component of Ominous Wind. Every once in awhile, using the move would allow for Lich to harness a darker power of all the souls within her, juicing up her power, speed, and endurance. And lucky for her, that use of the wind did just that. But unfortunately for Daryl, his Spiritomb was not subtle about her success.

[Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee! It surges within me!] she telepathically screamed before getting knocked aside by the mega Sceptile's sharpened tail.

"End it with a Leaf Storm!" Vega shouted, seeing victory at hand.

"Endure!"

A simple command, but an effective one. Lich endured that last hit, barely conscious after the storm of sharp leaves blew up and around the gecko before slashing against the fallen blob of a ghost.

"End it now! Leaf Blade!"

"Pain Split!"

Somehow, by the grace of Arceus, Lich was faster in that moment. Her body glowed grey, as did the Sceptile's, and Lich leeched off the energy of the stronger pokémon, leveling the playing field. The move stopped the mega Sceptile before she could land her hit and Lich decided on her on to take things a step further.

[Taste my curse, bitch!]

"Lich, don't-" But it was too late. Stabbing herself with a haunted needle, the Spiritomb placed a curse on the Sceptile. Normally, this may have been a good move, but Lich damaging herself was a terrible risk when she was the last of Daryl's pokémon. Thankfully, the initial effects of the curse stunned the Sceptile for a little longer, letting the weakened ghost have the opportunity for a Confuse Ray. Cursed and confused, the Sceptile would be easy to end, provided that Lich didn't take another hit.

Lich clouded the battlefield with a Smokescreen after the Trick Room dissipated, bouncing around in the dark and shooting energy blasts at the staggering Sceptile. When the bigger pokémon heard her trainer's pleas through the confusion in her head, she tried a Grasswhistle, a last ditch effort to slow down the attacker. But Lich endured, still moving. Finally, the smoke cleared and it was then that the mega-evolved pokémon came to her senses and readied a Leaf Storm, but Lich was two steps ahead.

[I win!] she cackled as she exploded with a Dark Pulse, blasting the Sceptile back, knocking her out of her mega form and unconscious. In just a few simple steps, Lich turned the battle around and won.

"Sceptile is unable to battle! Spiritomb is the winner! Therefore, victory goes to challenger Daryl Jones, who will advance to challenge Richard Kaiser: Champion of Skitrex!"

"Holy…" Daryl dropped to his knees, breathing heavily. It wouldn't have been the end if he had lost that match, but winning it was a huge relief, he looked out at Lich, who was gloating and bouncing about.

[I am the alpha and omega! You all show bow down before my power!]

"Yeesh…" he sighed. Crazy and arrogant. If that didn't get straightened out, she'd cost him a critical battle at some point down the line. But it didn't matter. He only needed three more wins. Three more wins and he was champion. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to rely on a wildcard like Lich to make that happen.

Another sleepless night. Granted, even if his Espeon hadn't started having seizures, Cody never slept well after a Darkrai nightmare. On top of that, Darkrai had successfully planted doubt in his head. Doubt about Brooke. Logically, he knew that this was the kind of thing that the Dark One did to separate people from those they loved, but the doubt kept ringing in his head like tinnitus.

I can trust her. Why couldn't I?

As he sat in the pokémon center lobby with Brooke's head leaning on his shoulder while she napped, he had to keep telling himself that everything was okay. It was one of Darkrai's schemes, after all. It had to be. Besides, he had more important things to worry about, namely Reflet's well-being.

"It's been hours," Heather commented as she sipped on the coffee she bought from the center's food court. Cody had already drank all of his, as he tended to drink way too fast when he was nervous or irritable. "Why won't they let you back there? Why won't they give you an update?"

"They said it was a 'delicate situation,'" Cody answered, repeating the vague answer that the nurses had told them earlier as he was trying to tip his cup to get the last few drops of coffee at the bottom. "I don't know what that means, but it must be pretty bad if they can't give us any solid information…"

"Hey, keep your head up," Heather said, touching his arm with her free hand. He turned to see the brunette smile and it warmed him up more than the coffee did. "Reflet is a fighter. She's been through more than either of us could imagine and she's only growing stronger. This… whatever it is, it won't stop her."

"You're right… I know she'll be okay," Cody agreed, although his despondent voice didn't reflect that statement. "I'm more concerned with how it happened."

"What do you mean? I thought she was just having seizures again," Heather guessed, based on what she had seen earlier.

He hadn't told her or Brooke what had happened yet. He'd tell Brooke later, but he didn't plan on telling Heather. Not that she wouldn't be sympathetic, but she didn't believe the Darkrai stuff. But maybe he'd try again. Give her another chance to see what was going on.

"I was having a nightmare. She used Dream Eater and all this happened…" He shook his head, crushing the styrofoam cup in his hand. "I don't even know how she learned that move. I didn't teach her that move and I wasn't planning on it either. She should have listened to me."

"Nightmare…" Heather pondered, her voice soft in the quiet lobby. "Is it possible that she didn't do it right? Espeon don't naturally learn that move, right?"

Of course. Heather was looking for any excuse for what happened aside from an ancient nightmare monster invading his head. So Cody just nodded. "Maybe." He just hoped that Reflet wouldn't have suffered for his demons.

"Mr. Storm?"

Cody looked over to see a doctor had called his attention. The man looked to be in his mid to late sixties, with thinning grey hair, thick-rimmed glasses, and a short, well-kept beard.

"That's me," Cody said, almost standing up, but stopping himself so that he wouldn't wake Brooke. "What's up? Is everything okay?"

"It should be," the doctor answered, though he sounded slightly uneasy. "My name is Dr. Harris. I've been working with your Espeon for the past few hours and I need to talk to you alone. Your friends will have to wait outside.

"That's fine." Very carefully, he slipped out from under Brooke's head, gently laying her down on the sofa in the waiting room. After giving the blonde a kiss on the cheek and flashing Heather a hopeful smile, he followed the doctor past the front desk and into the back hallways of the pokémon center.

"I must ask that you keep your voice low," the doctor requested, already lowering his voice to just above a whisper. "We don't want to disturb them."

Disturb who? The other doctors and nurses? But he just nodded. He didn't want to disturb anybody's work, especially with his pokémon's well-being on the line.

At pokémon centers, most pokémon who were treated for battle fatigue or basic injuries were taken to a general ward where multiple pokémon shared a large room or rooms. More serious injuries and medical conditions were treated in smaller, separate rooms. And pokémon that required specific environments (such as fish pokémon that couldn't leave the water for long periods of time) were given specialized environments. Cody expected Reflet to have her own room, as she did when she first evolved and had those evolution-based seizures, but he did not expect the room she was in to look the way it did.

Pokémon centers did have their own version of a psych ward. Essentially, it was for the pokémon with the most human-like minds who had become mentally unstable and a danger to themselves or others. Cody did not expect Reflet to be in that ward. And he wasn't prepared for what he saw. The room Reflet rested in had padded floors, walls, and ceilings, like the stereotypical solitary confinement rooms they showed in movies about mental patients. Reflet was on a bed in the center of this room, but her feet and tail were bound and fastened to the bed so that she wouldn't be able to move. She was hooked up to several machines, monitoring her vitals, and though Cody was no doctor, they looked to be stable to him. As for the doctors and nurses… there were none. Instead, two pokémon were in the room. A Hypno stood at the head of the bed, staring at her forehead intently as the little pendulum he held in his hand swung back and forth. Meanwhile, a Musharna floated above both of them, emitting a purple gas from the hole in her head that lightly fogged the room.

"What's going on?" Cody asked, keeping his voice low as directed, but just barely. "Where are the other doctors or nurses? Why are…" He was at a loss for words.

"There's very little we can do at this time," Dr. Harris answered, picking up his clipboard and looking at the chicken scratch he had written about Reflet's case. "Your Espeon was brought to us experiencing grand mal seizures. According to our records, she has no history of seizures aside from when she evolved, and those seizures are considered normal. No significant physical injuries, although she was strained from when she seized up again. Her records indicate that she used to belong to another trainer who was physically abusive, but that doesn't seem to be having an effect on the current situation and she's currently well cared for. All and all, a perfectly healthy pokémon. We gave her a muscle relaxer and tried to wake her, but she wouldn't respond. We gave her a basic awakening potion and no response. So we upped the dosage of the awakening and she woke, but she was experiencing significant hallucinations and was telepathically yelling gibberish. We gave her a light dose of fast acting antipsychotics, but they appeared to have no effect, so we had to sedate her again. Given that your Espeon has no history of psychosis-"

"This can't just be psychosis, can it?" Cody interrupted, struggling harder to keep his voice lower. The whole situation was worse than he thought, and knowing what he knew, it had to be something even more sinister. "What's going on in there?"

The doctor sighed, looking as though he had been defeated in some way, letting the clipboard fall to his side. "This is where things become complicated, Mr. Storm. As you know, there are pokémon who can induce nightmares as a means of attack. These nightmares can be stressful and physically draining, but most pokémon recover from them the moment they wake up. However, sometimes strong nightmare inducers can create a state within a pokémon's mind that they can never truly wake up from. Some do this as a means of effectively ensnaring prey. Others…" He shook his head, staring into space. "The smarter a pokémon is, the more like us it becomes. Some ghost, dark, and psychic-types out there can be especially sadistic. Regardless, if a person or pokémon is trapped in an enduring nightmare like this, there is nothing that modern medicine can do."

"No cure…" That couldn't be right. "So there's nothing that can be done?"

"I said there's nothing that modern medicine can do," the doctor repeated. "But we have a backup. See Jeffrey and Cloudy in there?" he asked, pointing to the Hypno and Musharna respectively. "Their trainers work for the pokémon center and these two act as therapists for some of the pokémon who come through here with mental illnesses and trauma. But they can also dissolve enduring nightmares. Jeffrey holds the sleeping pokémon in an ongoing Hypnosis that stabilizes their body and mind while Cloudy enters their brain to pick apart and devour the nightmare piece by piece. We rarely get enduring nightmare cases, but when we do, they can usually take care of them within an hour."

"Usually," Cody repeated. "But I've been out in the lobby for four hours. Why is it taking so long?"

"That's where it gets interesting, yet confusing," Dr. Harris answered, doing his best to hide his intrigue in the presence of a concerned trainer. "What we have here is an enduring nightmare beyond the standard we typically identify. This is the kind of enduring nightmare that they write textbooks about, Mr. Storm." The intrigue was obviously outweighing the concern in that moment. "See, most of the time, an enduring nightmare stays relatively benign in its hypothetical 'size', but this one is actively expanding, like cancer spreading mutated cells. Only a few enduring nightmares like this have been recorded in our written history. We are unsure what causes them, as no pokémon has ever been observed to create an enduring nightmare of this magnitude. According to Jeffrey and Cloudy, they will probably need to spend about ten more hours in there to devour it completely. If they stop for even a few minutes or are distracted in some other way, they will lose significant progress."

So that's why we need to be quiet. Terrified as he was for what Reflet was going through, he took comfort in knowing that she would be okay. He had never been so thankful to see a Hypno in his life.

"Incidentally," the doctor continued, his intrigue returning in his tone, "this is fantastic data that we're collecting. Would you give me consent to publish the data that we-"

"Yeah, sure, if it helps you guys with stuff like this. Just don't publish our names," he requested. "I just… thanks for all of this, Doc. And thank them too. I'll get them bags of the best pokéchow money can buy if they want."

"That won't be necessary," the doctor answered, half smiling. "But for the sake of your Espeon, it would be helpful if you could tell us more about the situation at hand. Is there anything that you could tell me about what happened? I read your initial statement, but anything else you can tell me would be greatly appreciated."

"Well… I was having a nightmare and my Espeon used Dream Eater. I didn't even know she knew the move… she had been asking me to get the TM for her, but I said no. She must have figured it out somehow. Anyway, I was having a nightmare, she ate it, and when I woke up, she was having seizures."

"Hmm…" The doctor seemed to be unsatisfied with that answer. "That's unusual. Pokémon who use Dream Eater have reported that good dreams taste better than nightmares, but there isn't any record of eating a nightmare, pokémon created or otherwise, that has led to even a 'typical' enduring nightmare within the pokémon who ate it. There has to be more to this. Why was your Espeon trying to learn Dream Eater in the first place? Espeon typically don't learn Hypnosis, so I assume it wasn't for battling?"

"No, it wasn't," Cody confirmed, nodding once. "I've been having nightmares for about a year and a half now, almost as long as I've been traveling as a trainer. I won't go into details, but they can get pretty vivid. I spoke with a therapist about it before and they ruled out PTSD. They're not based on past trauma." Or at least not my past trauma. He didn't add that last part. Too much explanation.

"I see…" the doctor answered, still unfulfilled. "I suppose it's possible that a strong enough pokémon could be to blame. But it would be out of character for an intelligent ghost, psychic, or dark-type a pokémon to stalk a person over great distances just to eat their dreams… unless it was for some sort of personal reason."

You don't know the half of it.

"There's something that you're not telling me, isn't there?" Doctor Harris asked, frowning. "You know that we can be of of better service to Reflet and yourself if we have all possible information on the matter."

"Honestly, I don't think you could help me on this one either way," Cody sighed in defeat.

"Well, you never know until you try," the doctor offered, smiling with his best bedside manner.

Maybe I should tell him the truth… what have I got to lose? He would never see the doctor again and it's not as if one belief that could be considered delusional was enough for the man to have him committed. "Doctor… what if I told you that it was Darkrai causing the nightmares and that it poisoned Reflet?"

The smile on the old man's face instantly fell and he shook his head. Obviously, not the answer he wanted. "I would tell you that that's impossible, Mr. Storm. People have claimed the existence of Darkrai before, but such a pokémon does not exist. Usually, whenever we get claims of Darkrai, it's a prank or a pokémon using Nightmare and claiming to be Darkrai."

"But you said yourself that Dream Eater users don't stalk their prey across long distances. And you told me that eating a nightmare has never resulted in an enduring nightmare. What else could it be? Are you telling me that it's more likely that a Gengar has been stalking me for the past year and a half and that none of my pokémon, including my psychic and ghost-type, ever sensed it?"

"Yes, because Gengar are intelligent creatures that we know exist," the doctor answered firmly.

"Right… you're right." Cody wasn't going to be able to change the man's mind. It was a long shot, but there was little chance that any sane person would believe that a mythical pokémon was stalking a lone, teenage boy.

"Mr. Storm, I can't claim to know for sure what's happening here," the doctor continued, voice still serious and unwavering. "As for why you're having nightmares, it could be because of stress or anxiety, things not uncommon to a traveling trainer. As to how your Espeon picked up an enduring nightmare from eating your dream, it's likely that it was another intruder, even if it's unlikely that such a pokémon could cause an enduring nightmare with such cancerous properties…" He paused for a moment. "There is another possibility. Have you been tested for psychic-powers of your own?"

I didn't expect him to ask me that. "I don't think… Why do you ask?"

"It's not my field, but psychic-powers in humans can be very diverse. Telekinesis, telepathy, precognition… it's a long list and it is very rare for people to develop such powers, but you know it happens. Is it possible that in response to your dream being eaten, you subconsciously defended-"

"I don't think that's it," Cody interrupted. "I feel as though I would have known by now. Besides, has there ever been a human with psychic abilities capable of causing an enduring nightmare of this magnitude, accidental or not?"

"Not to my knowledge," the doctor replied, shaking his head. "So here's what I'll tell you: your Espeon will need about a week away from the battlefield to recover after the dream is completely eaten. Make sure she gets enough food and water and extra sleep. We'll write a prescription for a temporary sleep aid for her as well. But as for you… I don't know what exactly is going on with you, but I would say that you should do what you can to eliminate outside factors. Take additional measures to ensure no people or pokémon are invading your dreams, see a therapist, consider anti-anxiety medication, and get more sleep. Stress is a major threat to a traveling trainer's health. It will be good for both you and your pokémon."

"Right… thank you, doctor." Of course, nothing changed. Addressing additional stress was probably a good idea, but was there anything anybody could really do for him? Reflet had tried her best, but she stood no chance. And if finding a stronger psychic-type was the answer, surely Stella or one of the others plagued by Darkrai would have figured that out.

He looked in on his comatose Espeon as the Hypno and Musharna continued to work. Usually, when Reflet was sleeping, she'd twitch and fidget a little bit, but she was completely motionless. He was lucky that they were in town when she tried to eat his dream or else he probably wouldn't have been able to save her in time.

Thank God or Arceus or whoever that she's safe. But Darkrai had proven itself. It had come so close to taking away Reflet, so who was to say that it couldn't figure out a way to do the same to one of his other pokémon? Or his friends? Or family?

You're a coward, Darkrai. Trying to harm those I love as a way of getting to me. I swear, I won't let that happen again. I'll find a way to stop you, no matter what. He just hoped those weren't just bold thoughts. He didn't feel any stronger or closer to figuring the Dark One out.

Sharing a table with Derrick Storm during his lunch hour had its benefits. What Frank had come to like about the man was that he didn't care for small talk, only speaking when he had something to say. But by that same principle, lunch with him could get kind of boring if neither man had anything to say. Frank wanted to satiate his curiosity and ask Derrick about his past, but he didn't want to be too nosy or rude. What was so "eclectic" about his training that the Brotherhood had an interest in taking him as a disciple? Did it have anything to do with who his brother was?

[Just ask him already,] Isaac groaned telepathically. The Mr. Mime kept himself occupied with the coffee that Frank had picked up for him from the I.I. building's cafeteria, but he was still bored. Frank had brought a coffee for Derrick too, but Derrick turned it down, politely explaining how he tried to avoid caffeine as well as other addictive substances. The man's lunch looked pretty boring, albeit healthy. Baked Starly without seasoning and a spinach salad without dressing; pretty bland overall. Meanwhile, his yelllow, "wilting" Meganium sat near the window, absorbing sunlight. That was her dinner, Frank supposed.

"Have they been having you do much since you got here?" Frank finally asked. It wasn't what he wanted to ask, but it was a good enough lead in.

"Mostly running drills," Derrick answered, taking a small bite of spinach. "Been in the field once, but it was recon. Nothing too heavy, which is nice. I don't actually enjoy the idea of infiltration and incapacitation, but I understand it as a means to an end. What about you? Still keeping an eye on Salem?"

"Yes, alongside my other work. It's getting quite tiresome. The man is terrifying." He sipped on his coffee, mentally envisioning the caffeine rushing through his body. He'd need that for when he got back to work. Even with the edition of his new role, it wasn't as if his coordination gig was getting any easier. Too much work for one man. "I guess he has a place in the Father's plans. Otherwise, he wouldn't be given a Regice, right?"

"I suppose, though I'm not sure why the Father would choose his grandson for a role that any decent trainer could fill," Derrick answered, shaking his head, appearing slightly disappointed. "He seems like he would be above nepotism, if that is the case."

"I actually don't think it is nepotism," Frank answered, shaking his head. "But I don't have a better explanation, aside from being able to train that thing… How is that going? I haven't been down to the sub-levels in a while and Salem has told me nothing."

"It's progressing," Derrick replied, expanding on his simplistic answer. "The Regice is following basic commands, but it still rebels on a whim and it hasn't developed that fluid synergy you see in a trained pokémon when it intuitively understand the subtext of a command. It will be some time before it sees the field. But you're going to have your work cut out for you, Frank, controlling a dangerous, unpredictable man controlling a dangerous, unpredictable pokémon. And to think, we'll have to do it two more times. It's a lot of work, but I suppose Salem is earning his keep." He took the last bite of his Starly and put his fork down, looking directly at Frank. "But you didn't ask me to have lunch with you to talk about work, did you?"

"Well… no… I just don't know how to ask… I guess it's personal, but-"

[He wants to ask you about your past. He's just too polite to ask you directly out of context,] Isaac answered for his trainer, only to get a dirty look from Frank. [What?] the mime asked, shrugging comedically. [If I didn't say anything you'd be talking about the weather or something. I need some juice in my diet.]

"Sorry about him. He's always been kind of an ass," Frank chuckled awkwardly as he looked back into Derrick's emotionless expression. "You said that you had an eclectic experience as a trainer. Did you ever figure out what it was about you that led them to recruit you?"

"I was willing to discuss it with you the last time I saw you. There's no reason to be shy about asking me. You're a good man, Frank, so I see no problem with sharing this with you," Derrick answered, taking a sip of his water. "I don't think it was anything in particular, really. I'm a pretty good trainer. They saw that and they wanted me on board. Though, do you do this with other trainers that the organization recruits? I'm sure many of them have interesting stories as well."

"Yes, well, something about you caught my interest, I guess." But he couldn't say it was because of his brother, due to the mandate passed to him. Frank was smart enough to know that that like Salem, Derrick was picked to be a specific cog in the mechanism. Bringing up Cody would only muck things up. "Still, what about you? Why did your battling style appeal to them?"

"Well… that's a long story. Do you want me to start from the beginning? How far do you want me to go back?"

"As far as you find relevant, I guess," Frank suggested with a shrug. A story was a story, so he'd take whatever he was given.

"Well, my beginnings weren't all that special, I suppose," Derrick began, pushing his food to his side. "My father was a good trainer, although he never completed the gym challenge. He chose to focus on his career as a local journalist and starting a family, which I respect. But I wanted to surpass him. So, I became a trainer. Meganium over there was my first pokémon. Back then, she was pretty cheery, but she's grown up over the past few years, putting it lightly." He stopped to look over at his first pokémon, who looked back at him. Frank looked into the dinosaur's face and he could have sworn he saw the subtlest of smiles as she gazed at her trainer.

"When I was seventeen, I had enough badges to enter into the Diamond Beach tournament. I thought I was good at the time, since I never had any significant problems training. Still, I didn't tell my family that I was competing or even that I had won all twelve badges, just because I didn't want to disappoint them if I didn't do well. I especially didn't want to disappoint my father, even though I now know he would have been proud of me regardless.

"I did not do well. I barely beat half of the members of my pre-bracket qualifying pool, so I wasn't even close to advancing to the bracket itself. I didn't know what I had done wrong. Hell, maybe I did nothing wrong at all. Sometimes, you do your best and you're either unlucky or just not good enough. I needed to find out what it was that held me back, however, so instead of going home, I traveled. Only my father knew about this. I was pretty close with him for a while and I knew he could keep a secret out of fear that I would hurt my mother by just disappearing. I traveled the world, searching for new methods of training, but in the end, I found nothing that completed me. It wasn't that those methods were bad, it's just… I needed to overcome something personal that was blocking me."

"So, you plateaued." Not an uncommon thing to hear from trainers, but at least he had plateaued farther down the road than Frank had. "I assume you found what you were looking for?"

"Indeed. I needed more than just training. I needed purpose beyond fame and fortune," Derrick continued cryptically. "And I found it in the East."

"The East? You mean Asia?"

"Tibet, to be exact," Derrick clarified, nodding. "Upon my travels, I encountered a trainer a few years older than I was and we battled. He beat me swiftly and efficiently, so I asked him how he became so fluid. He told me that he spent a year training with monks, specifically the Order of the Breeze. Basically, a group of monks living in the mountains, cliché as that sounds. I ended up doing some research and found out that they did exist and that multiple trainers who had trained with them had gone on to have fantastic careers in battling, the most famous being Bruno Saito of the Kanto Elite Four. Naturally, I wanted to find them. Anything to help me grow. So, I made the decision to seek them out and be trained by them. But sacrifices needed to be made."

"Sacrifices?"

"Sacrifices is a poor choice in words, I suppose," Derrick chuckled, smiling slightly. "Today, I look at letting go of what bound me as a gift. It wouldn't be for everybody, but for me, it's what I needed."

Before Frank could ask again what that meant, Derrick began his explanation. "One, to train with the Order of the Breeze, you must give up everything you have. And I mean everything. All earthly possessions must be given up and they test you upon arrival to make sure that you've done it. I was only allowed to enter with six pokémon without pokeballs and the clothes on my back. I had eleven pokémon at the time… I had to give five of them up, unfortunately, but I made sure they were all given to loving trainers. As for my things, it felt unnatural at first, giving up my possessions, after having become so attached to them. I thought about trying to cheat the test, but I knew deep down that even if I had succeeded in fooling the monks, I wouldn't actually be changing for the better. So, I complied.

"The second request they make is that those who train with them continue to live a modest lifestyle after leaving the monastery. Obviously, this is nothing that can be enforced by the monks, as they rarely leave the mountains, but from what I have gathered, the most successful trainers followed this code. Bruno apparently lives out in the woods when he's not on league duty. So, I knew I had to follow this rule as well for my own benefit.

"And finally, they request that any trainer who acquires wealth and power with their new skills would use their rewards to benefit the world. Again, going back to Bruno, apparently, he keeps very little of the league money he makes. His money goes into funding a program he co-founded. Something about martial arts classes for low-income children in Kanto and Johto. A good cause."

"Huh, I never knew that…" Frank admitted, though really, he never did pay much attention to the Kanto League. "So… you gave up everything? How did you manage to do that? I can't imagine your family would have let you do something like that."

"It actually wasn't easy," he agreed. "I could not return home to give away my things. Not after how long I had been gone without explaining what I was doing. So, I just told my father that my little brother could have my possessions if he wanted. But the issue was my bank account. I had money that belonged to me that my parents had saved up for me to attend college, but I officially didn't have access to it. I pulled some strings with my father to make it look as though I managed to access it without him. From there, I donated the rest to charity. But in the end, he told me that if I were to do this, I could never come back, especially considering how my mother would take my decisions. It hurt, but I agreed. My training was the most important thing to me. Maybe that's selfish of me, but I was willing to give up those ties alongside my possessions.

"So my six remaining pokémon and I hiked to the temple in the mountains where the Order resided. They accepted us and we trained, labored, and meditated with them for an entire year in harsh conditions. If you wonder why Meganium is that color, it's because the sheer cold made her 'wilt'. She's still perfectly healthy. She just looks like she isn't. But anyway, they taught us a very fluid style called weaving stance. Basically, every movement continuously flows into another without a moment of hesitation. It's not a perfect method, as I do need to make commands, and it doesn't always account for all variables, but it made the seven of us far more streamlined as a unit.

"After that, I returned to the village at the mountain's base, traveled to a nearby city, and began making enough money for a plane ticket. I came home to Skitrex, not with the intent of staying forever. I couldn't become a champion here without my mother or brother trying to reconnect with me, but I know the battle scene around here, and I knew I could make enough money to find out where I needed to go next. I did pretty well. Even ran into one of my brother's best friends. Got my brother's number from him, just in case I ever did want to talk with him, but I haven't yet. But at one of the tournaments, I was recruited by Lily Chen herself."

"Wait, really?" That seemed unreal to Frank, as he hadn't even met Lily yet. "How'd that even happen?"

"I battled her and I lost, but I did pretty well, so she invited me to have an audience with the Father himself. I'm not quite sure what they see in me other than my battling skills, but I know what I saw in them: my chance to fulfill what I was taught. With them, I can be a factor in healing the world. While I may not be a fan of the espionage or some of the more illegal actions that the Brotherhood is forced to take, I believe in the Father's goal of eliminating corruption and greed. Perhaps, this has become my primary purpose; becoming a champion is secondary to the elimination of suffering."

"It's what drew me to them too," Frank agreed, but he didn't sound so sure of himself. "However, when I joined, things seemed far more clean. Like, I knew there was secret stuff going on, but breaking into a research facility and capturing a Regice… I mean, what does a Regice even offer us in fighting poverty and political corruption?"

"You're not that naive, Frank," Derrick chided, almost uncharacteristically snide. "You must have known for awhile that this has been about more than just soup kitchens and trainer education. You've seen the snatchers. You've seen the not-so-legal activities going on behind the scenes. The Regice isn't just for show. Trust me when I say that we will need such power very soon…"

"So, what's going on then?" Frank questioned. "Does Father Ezekiel plan on marching the Regice on the Capitol? Even with all of the strong trainers and the Mol-" He stopped mid-sentence, unsure if Derrick knew about the Moltres or not. "Point is, this isn't something that can be won with brute strength alone."

"We'll need more than strength," Derrick agreed, nodding, "but it doesn't hurt. Not when the bubble in Skitrex is about to burst. But we'll be ready for it."

"You really think something big is about to happen?" Frank asked. "I mean, we're progressing, it seems, but-"

"There is going to be an entire generation of trainers about to face a harsh reality," Derrick interrupted with his answer. "Tell me, you've been watching Daryl Jones and his Elite Four challenge, correct?"

"Huh?" What did that have to do with anything? "Yeah, he's really good. Really clobbered Vega the other night. Do you think he can beat Kaiser?"

"Never mind that," Derrick redirected with a quick shake of his head. "What do you think of his story? His history?"

"Honestly, it's pretty inspiring," Frank answered. Just watching him battle filled him with a strange home. "Guy comes from a poor home in an impoverished community and rises to the top after years of hard work. It's a testament to overcoming adversity, right?"

"You're absolutely right," Derrick answered, seemingly glad that Frank reached his conclusion. "Daryl Jones is a beacon of hope. He is exactly the kind of person we should all strive to be like. There's a reason why Father Ezekiel has been in communication with him. Jones isn't aware of the Brotherhood yet, but perhaps the Father will extend an offer to him very soon. He'd be a powerful asset and figurehead for us." But then, the smile on Derrick's face faltered. "However, his success is creating unintended consequences."

"Wait, how so?" Frank asked. "I don't understand."

"Come on, Frank, you work in recruitment." Again, slight condescension... that didn't suit Derrick at all. "Haven't you noticed an increase in new recruits since the summer?"

"Well, kinda, but-"

"And if you pay attention to the budget reports, we've had to increase the money going toward Haven Houses and trainer education. Any idea as to why?"

"Uh…" It must have had something to do with Jones, but he didn't get it.

[You said Jones was an inspiration,] the Mr. Mime answered, picking up the trainer's slack. [Are you suggesting that his success is inspiring new trainers?]

"I'm not suggesting it. I'm stating the facts," Derrick clarified. "Trainer registration in the 18 and under demographic has increased by about 50% after Daryl Jones won at Diamond Beach and they expect it to climb even higher, given his success against the Elite Four. Of this percentage, there is a higher number of trainers from poor backgrounds, like him, becoming trainers, and I'm not talking about kids battling pokémon as a hobby after school or on the weekends. I've seen the surveys and the studies based on this year's batch of trainers. These are kids who are actively leaving school altogether to travel the region and collect badges with little money in their pockets to fall back on.

"Now, here's the issue: battling is a competitive endeavor. The nature of battling means that there are winners and losers. If you are not sponsored or competing at higher levels where there is prize money on the line, the only way to make profit is to gamble on a game of skill. That's something that will not and should not change. Otherwise, what's the point? Not everybody can be a top level trainer because at the end of the day, somebody has to lose and you know that you can't pay the bills on participation trophies alone. What happens next?"

"Well," Frank began, "we get a bunch of working class trainers who have no money left."

"Exactly," Derrick answered. "Most of the 'losers' in this situation are from poor communities to begin with. And given how easy it is to become a trainer, many of them are uneducated on pokémon, putting them at additional risk of getting hurt or worse. If I had failed as a trainer, I could have gone back to my middle class home and everything would have been fine. These trainers, however, might not have good homes to go back to, or they'd go back with even less than they started out with. Some of them may go back to school or get their GEDs, but statistically, a lot of them end up poor and a large percentage of them end up resorting to crime. There's been an increase in gang activity, prostitution, drug trafficking, and the like over the past few years. And it's been getting even worse over the past few months. Suddenly, you have a generation of young people with limited resources, poor education, criminal charges, and increased difficulty with finding work. Very similar circumstances occurred in Kanto and that's how we got Team Rocket. Poverty and chaos combined with greed and lust for power was what led to the rise of the Cipher in Orre. And can you imagine what will happen if Daryl Jones actually becomes the champion?"

"From what you're saying, it sounds like it could be a problem," Frank answered, recognizing that he was putting it lightly.

"You know that it's already been a problem, or else the Brotherhood wouldn't even have a need to exist," Derrick reminded him. "Providing trainer education and opening up soup kitchens and cost-free dwelling is only a band-aid solution for a gunshot wound. The Brotherhood has recently started GED and job placement programming, but again, more band-aids. What we have here is a societal problem that the government has become inefficient at fixing. The Father identifies as a socialist, but he told me that he's distanced himself from politics in general, as he doesn't see the left or the right as effective in dealing with these issues. He says that government itself is the problem."

"So, he's a anarchist now?" Frank asked, half-kidding, knowing that that didn't fit Ezekiel's style.

"No, he believes in some form of government. He just thinks it needs a reboot."

"Why am I just now hearing about this?" Frank asked, feeling a little hurt. Considering how often he was communicating with the Father those days, he'd hope that he'd be hearing more about his political beliefs.

"Because he really only goes into detail with the inside of his inner circle," Derrick continued. "I only hear bits and pieces of it from Lily. I've been talking a lot with her lately via webchat. She tends to vent a lot because she's not always on the same wavelength as Father Ezekiel in terms of policy and Brotherhood action…" Derrick smirked, looking a bit out of character. "I actually had the Playboy that she posed for under my bed back at my parents' house. Never would have guessed that I'd be working with her and that we'd be discussing politics."

The thought of somebody as serious and strait-laced as Derrick having dirty magazines, even before his morals shifted, seemed incredibly off. But Frank went back to what the other man had said earlier. "You said the word 'reboot'. The Father wants to do that to the government, but not with a forceful takeover? If not by force, how does a Regice play into that?"

"That… I don't know," Derrick admitted, shrugging. "I don't even know if Lily knows all the details yet and she's his number two. But…" He quickly glanced around for possible snoops before leaning in and whispering, "You know about Regirock, right?"

"That we're looking for one?" Frank whispered back. "Yeah, I was told. Registeel too. I guess Ezekiel wants a complete set?"

"They've narrowed its location two spots, both within national parks. Accessing it is going to be a gigantic undertaking, given that we may end up exposing ourselves in the process. Even though the organization hasn't gone public yet, we have to make sure we don't come off as villainous. But once we have all three… that is the key to something greater, Ezekiel said. I don't know what that's referring two, but we will soon have two-thirds of the key."

The key to what? Ever since he was told that the Brotherhood sought out the other two golems, he searched for a connection. Sure enough, he found that according to legend, all of the Regice, Regirock, and Registeel on earth were created by a being named Regigigas, an ancient pokémon of immense, immeasurable power that supposedly formed the continents themselves. However, unlike the golems that the Brotherhood sought, Regigigas was a thing of lore. There was no proof that one even existed. But Father Ezekiel and the Brotherhood researchers were able to narrow down Regirock locations. If they were correct in their findings, perhaps they knew what they were doing. And maybe that meant they had found out that Regigigas existed after all? Father Ezekiel was an expert on legendary pokémon, so if anybody could find it, it would be him. What would they even need such a pokémon for? Or perhaps the trio of golems were meant for a different purpose? Regardless, Derrick didn't seem to know the answer either.

[Did that satisfy your questions?] Isaac asked, looking up at his trainer, now that his coffee was gone.

"Yeah…" Frank answered, although by asking questions, more arose in their place. Nevertheless, change was on the horizon and it was an exciting time for the Brotherhood of Life, albeit a simultaneously terrifying one.