》My dearest child of ruins, don't look back!Your demon is looking for you,willing to drag you into the shadows.Looking back holds no light.Only memories, burnt deep into your flesh.《

  Fire surged through his shoulder. Hissing swirled through the air. Leather tore at his skin, and although a scream burned in his lungs, Natural couldn’t utter a sound. Only groans travelled down his throat, unable to convey clear thoughts.

  His gaze fixed on the ground, he scrutinised the blood dripping from his nose and combining with rock and dust. Each sh resounded in his ears, but his flesh was too numb to react. The bruises on his wrists, which had been tied to a stake, sent pain like pinpricks up his arms. From his shoulders onwards, he could only feel a throbbing.

  Huddled on the floor, naked and with his stomach growling, he didn’t dare lift his head once. He already knew that Ghetsis’ bzing gaze was on him. Fierce loathing that differed strongly from the outbursts his adoptive father had taken out on him years ago. In those breaths, he was no longer the man who had lovingly cared for him.

  “Are you ungrateful creature even listening?”

  Natural’s lids twitched. Whenever he tried to close his eyes, he thought he was resting in a desert – his vision full of sand. So he kept them open, listening to the noise in his head and his father.

  Mostly to his father.

  “I’m talking to you!”

  Another blow passed over his body with such force that Natural felt the heat. Moist, flowing hotness he now recognised as blood.

  “If you weren’t so incompetent, everything could have been ours! Instead, you took all my trust and betrayed it with your disgusting selfishness!”

  He heard Ghetsis spit in front of his hands. A bit of saliva touched his fingertips.

  “All these years to bring civilisation to a savage. You are an incapable monster! Something like you has no pce among humans.”

  Perhaps that was true.

  Abandoned in a forest as a child and raised by Pokémon, he probably possessed few things that equated him to a normal human. Sure, he had a mortal body, Ghetsis had taught him the nguage of this world, and he knew of his weakness. There was no way for him to perform an attack like he had seen many Pokémon do. However, he also cked a liking for books, art, fashion, complicated discussions, or the stifling silence within a closed room. Things that made a person. Most of the memories of his childhood were a blurred mosaic, but they still existed and inspired longing – despite Ghetsis’ strict upbringing.

  “I sacrificed my life for you! And not only did you inferior creature throw it all away because some stupid girl asked you to, but you also wanted to disappear with Zekrom and turn your back on your duties.”

  Another snap hissed close to Natural's ear, causing a sluggish twitch to flit across his body. His fingers were so swollen he could no longer clench his hands into fists.

  “Where were you going, anyway?”

  Exploring the world, father – the only thought that still sounded understandable in Natural’s mind.

  A fortnight ago, Domino had gotten in his way and given him the final push to break out of his insecure view and take a step into the world she belled cruelly beautiful. He had simply flown away with Zekrom, tasting Unova one st time before sneaking into a secret hideout of Psma and packing clothes. He had wanted to go travelling to get his very own picture of this world. Maybe then he could have expined to his father that there were Pokémon that loved their trainers – everywhere.

  Perhaps then they would have become a little closer – away from the memories of the dark days that Natural had blocked out before.

  But what value did such knowledge have for a man who was looking for a ruler? Was Ghetsis’ bitterness deeper than he let on, or was his father simply turning a blind eye to the good things?

  “I should dispose of you... For all the trouble you’ve caused. Just as I pnned!”

  The drops of blood on the floor seemed to form a picture. A kind of portrait that other people praised to the skies because it harboured hidden meaning he himself, as an artist, didn’t understand. Was he drawing Unova in the dirt? Was he perhaps predicting his death?

  His tongue quivered as he licked dryly over his lower lip. A metallic fvour permeated his nerves. Would anyone even notice if he died?

  “I’m tired of you...”

  Wood rattled. Probably the handle of the whip. For a breath, he regretted Ghetsis' appearance – out of nowhere, to attack him – in the secret hiding pce. None of the expnations Natural had weighed on his tongue had surfaced that day. Instead, he had raised his hands too te. The exploding pain in his cheek when his father’s fist had nded in his face had knocked him out.

  Hours ter, when consciousness returned, he had found himself in a filthy cell – naked and leashed like a hated Poochyena.

  “I’ll ask you again.” In the background, Ghetsis stepped closer. “What is your goal? What do you intend to achieve out there? You as a useless creature in human skin?”

  Silence was all Natural could manage. What was the point of travelling? Who cared about the opinions of a young man who had nothing to show for it?

  Why go to all this trouble?

  Why fight the tiredness in his body?

  Wouldn’t it be better if all this ended? When it all stopped, when he could finally sleep, forget about the world and the Pokémon, forget about friendships, accept the circumstances, shut out his confused thoughts, just for a moment, forever, for two seconds-

  His scalp burned as his head was tugged upwards. After all these days, in a crouched position, he saw his father’s face again. Eyes in a hollow face, surrounded by yers of wrinkles.

  “Harmonia ... you’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

  Was he? A good boy?

  “Don’t you know how much I care about you? You’ve ruined everything, and now we have nothing left. All I’ve said are the words people out there will have for you when you meet them.” His shoulders slumped. “Don’t you realise that girl was only trying to protect her ideals? She was from the Explorers! Enemies to our goal.”

  “Domino...” Natural’s tongue weighed heavy as lead. “She... has a... good... heart...”

  “She doesn’t, my boy.” A sigh came over Ghetsis. “She wooed you with words you didn’t understand. My love may be hard, as it is now, but it is real.”

  It had always been real. Every sp in the face, every kick in the stomach, every mean word – they had made him grow up. His father had always wanted to prepare him for the world out there, for the good things and the hard things. Natural knew that. Whenever Ghetsis had hit him with a stick, his apologies had been tearful. His father didn’t enjoy being mean to him. Sometimes Natural deserved the punishments. It made perfect sense. Always had been. He did something wrong, and his father had to carry out the consequences. All so that Natural could grow up to be a healthy adult.

  “Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you, Harmonia? You need to be better.” Slowly, Ghetsis bent his knees, loosened his grip, and patted Natural’s cheek – just like when he was a child. “We can still turn the tide. We bme your injuries on the Explorers. Especially Domino.”

  “Why?” The question escaped Natural’s lips like a breath, and although he thought he had been overheard, his head jerked briskly to the side in the next blink of an eye.

  His skull throbbed as he crashed onto his shoulder, and his body shrank. But there were no more blows, and when he heard Ghetsis gaining distance, Natural dared to look up.

  “Why? Because it’s your fault that Psma failed. It’s also your fault that we have to bme the poor girl for everything now. Do you think I’m doing this purely for pleasure? You know I wanted Domino on our team!” He shook his pale green mop of hair. “I hope you haven’t forgotten she wanted to work with us. She just didn’t felt like being away from her team. Those Explorers ... imagine one of them paid Zinzolin to hurt her! And now I have to bme her for your suffering. That pains me.”

  He pulled a Poké Ball out of the pocket of his golden-blue robe. Not one of his own, which were already old and worn. It looked new, barely used, but the peeling paint in one spot reminded Natural dimly of a friend he had borrowed from another Psma member – shortly after the release of almost all his other Pokémon.

  His father skilfully released Liepard from its prison. The purple fur shone in the poor light, and before it understood the circumstances, Ghetsis grabbed it harshly by the back of the neck and pushed it to the ground. Immediately afterwards, he pulled out a gun – one of those ugly weapons that could only be gained underground.

  “It is only because of the Explorers that I must now kill one being that means so much to you.” A trembling sigh overcame Ghetsis. “Can’t you see what this Domino has done to you? She probably didn’t mean to and was maniputed, but this life ... this blood will be on her fingers.”

  Opposition stuck to Natural’s dry lips but went down without a sound. His body barely moved. Every attempt to find the right words choked his throat. Gasping breaths shook his shoulders, and when something came off his tongue, he could barely hear himself.

  “You don’t have to hurt it...” Audible exhations pierced the space between them. Tears burned on his lower eyelids. “This Liepard won’t change anything. I’ll do whatever you want ... but don’t take it out on an innocent Pokémon.”

  “And that’s where you’re wrong, Harmonia.” Liepard hissed as Ghetsis pressed it harder to the ground. “We need this death. Right now, the humans out there hate you. They think you led them astray. Land was destroyed when our castle came to the surface. The league took heavy damage. You nearly killed the Elite Four and the champ – they have a lot of fans – while it was all broadcast on the internet for people to see how strong you are. Many people pinned their hopes on you and were disappointed. Do you think they would still back you if you asked them to now?”

  Natural’s numb arms tugged at the rope that bound him to the post. The individual hairs of the hemp poked into the raw flesh of the abrasions.

  “Harmonia, we have to protect you. Do you understand? I did all this for you.” He put the barrel of the gun to Liepard’s head. “The humans will forgive you when they see the physical injuries you’ve taken from the Explorers. They’ll feel sorry for you because those monsters beat you up so badly. The fact I punished you was simply because of your naivety.”

  Was that the case? Had all this happened because he had decided in his own favour for once in his life – thanks to Domino’s encouragement?

  “But many won’t be sure if that’s enough to save the Pokémon. They won’t be completely behind you until they realise these Explorers have maniputed you and you’ve lost a loyal friend because of it. They will recognise your anger, your pain, and your newly earned willpower and follow you.”

  “But... Domino...”

  He didn’t want to have to drag her into this dark corner. Her warm embrace, the love in her words – she had given him the strength to accept the real world and the courage to want to find out more. She didn’t deserve a witch hunt based on false information.

  “If it helps you, then I will name her. The people will strengthen you even more when they learn your queen was and still is controlled by these simpletons.” A snort escaped his father. “But first, one thing at a time.”

  Natural’s senses wavered. His thoughts were spinning. He wanted to save Domino, wanted to protect the Pokémon, was ready to give up everything, and yet couldn’t find the strength to lift a finger. Only the image in front of him remained. The hissing of Liepard. Its screech as Ghetsis almost sat down on the Pokémon. The click of the gun.

  The horrible bang.

  Blood shooting out of the side of its skull and staining the ground.

  The Pokémon’s st twitches before it y motionless.

  Red liquid collected and collected and collected.

  Natural’s vision blurred, robbing the scene of its cruelty. Hidden behind his tears, the red mingled with the purple of the fur, the yellow of the legs, and the washed-out green that marked his father’s hair.

  The only clear thing reaching him was the rough voice of Ghetsis. “I can assume you are once again committed to Psma and its pns?”

  This Pokémon had died because of him. Natural Harmonia Gropius had killed this perfect creature. Not with his own hands. Not with his own words. And yet with the fleeting thought of escaping from this pce.

  Wouldn’t it be fair if he died too? The emptiness inside him took over with every breath he took. What was the value of all this if he was committed to something wrong, trapped in a spiral from which he couldn’t escape?

  “Harmonia, speak up already! I don’t have all day.”

  If he agreed and obeyed, the Pokémon’s life wouldn’t be wasted. And yet it would be the eternal memory of a lie. His father had killed Liepard, not the Explorers. Nothing was as he had been told in this cell.

  “Don’t make me get the answer out of you, son. I-”

  “Kill me,” Natural finally interrupted him. Whichever way he chose, there was no hope of freedom. If Psma’s success depended on him, he had to eliminate himself. It was quite simple. Afterwards, his father would hunt Domino down, but she was safe with the Explorers.

  Dying was the best solution.

  The easiest.

  “You’re not in your right mind.” Ghetsis sighed. “Maybe you need a break.”

  “Please...”

  “I’ll let you rest for a few hours and come back ter with dinner. Then we’ll talk more. In the end, even a thing like you has human traits.”

  He couldn’t stop his father, couldn’t do anything about the cnging of the cell door that thundered in his ears a minute ter. Instead, he was left to himself, lying on his side, unable to do more than listen to his own sobs. Whenever he tried to swallow, he tasted the blood on his tongue. Not Liepard’s, but just the thought of it turned his stomach. Everything inside him tightened; gagging gripped him, but all he could expel was bile.

  Pressing his forehead to the ground, Natural closed his eyes. Darkness was more peaceful than anything else in this world, and the hope it would swallow him up gave him a strangely cool calm. His body no longer ached. Coldness ensnared his senses, and only the squeaking of the door hinges woke him from his trance.

  He raised his head slowly, unwilling to defy his father any longer. But it wasn’t Ghetsis who entered his cell. Bck legs with red cws pushed their way in his direction, and as a puffy, wild mane came into view, Zoroark’s face swept Natural’s senses bnk.

  “We don’t have much time.”

  There were so many things resting in his arms, Natural lost track within seconds. All he could do was watch as Zoroark cut the rope with his cws and freed him. He gently grabbed him by the shoulders, sat him up, and offered him a piece of bread. On it, reeking cheese.

  “I couldn’t find anything better in such a short time,” Zoroark expined as his paws gripped a water bottle and a worn cloth. He pushed a second bottle in front of Natural’s legs at the same time. “I know Miltank cheese isn’t one of your favourites, but-”

  “What ... are you doing here?”

  Was he dreaming? Had sleep taken hold of him so he was now living the hope that had been shattered in reality? He even dared to take a bite of the bread. The nasty sour fvour of the cheese seemed too real to fit in with a dream.

  “I’m here to save you. Why else would I be here?” Zoroark snorted before his lips curled. “Turned a few of Team Psma against each other. Ghetsis will be busy. Gives us time.”

  With careful touches, the Pokémon washed the sweat and blood from Natural’s naked body. He, however, dared to take a greedy bite of the bread, grabbed the other bottle of water, and emptied it in one go. His stomach grumbled, and although his flesh had seemed so weak before, hunger urged him to continue.

  As Zoroark clumsily wrapped a few bandages around Natural’s chest, a giggle escaped the Pokémon. “You’re going to look like a tangled Caterpie.”

  It wasn’t a good time for a joke. Dizziness distorted Natural’s vision right after the st bite, and the world spun. Throbbing settled behind his forehead, and he didn’t know where to turn.

  “Put this on.” Without further ado, Zoroark held clothes under his nose so Natural obeyed.

  His legs remained too weak to carry him, so he slid into the cream-coloured trousers while sitting. The white shirt, far too big, avoided contact with his wounds, and the well-worn sneakers gave him familiar memories. With a bck cap on his head, he felt almost normal, but his hands were shaking and sweat was collecting on his forehead. Zoroark wiped away the salty beads.

  “We can do this.”

  As soon as everything was halfway in pce, the Pokémon grabbed him under the arms. In one powerful move, Natural stood on wobbly legs. His weight pressed heavily on his muscles, and only Zoroark kept him from falling.

  “I was able to steal Zekrom,” his partner began out of nowhere. “We just need to get out.”

  Faint nods washed over Natural. But as he turned his gaze forwards, emptiness in his mind, the dead Liepard prevented his escape. Almost bck blood coated the Pokémon’s fur. Its eyes wide open, it stared into nothingness. What had it been thinking about when it died?

  As Zoroark forced his body forwards, the heaviness in Natural’s legs increased. His shoes shuffled over the rough ground, and the throbbing under his skin burned.

  “We can’t leave it behind...”

  “What do you mean?” His saviour’s ears twitched.

  “Liepard. Leaving this body here ... is cruel. It’s not right. We have to-”

  “Get out,” Zoroark interrupted him. “N ... I beg you. It may be cruel, but there’s nothing we can do. Just close your eyes. Only for a moment.”

  As if nothing had happened. As if he could close his eyelids and the darkness wouldn’t wrap its bitter cold around his throat. The way Zoroark said it, it sounded simple enough, and for a breath, Natural believed the confidence in the middle of the ugly images he might be picturing. Scenes that would fade as soon as he opened his eyes again.

  But the bckness behind his eyelids had a colourful grain. Memories spilt over, mingling with what he had experienced. Wax mixed with colour. With fvour. With screams. Ghetsis took a swing. He ducked. A bullet pierced Liepard’s skull. Domino embraced him. A whip tore open his back. Zoroark rushed to help.

  Natural's heart raced.

  The wish of death – unsteady legs – the will to live – a strong shoulder – the fear of the world outside – gasping – resistance – dry mouth – he.

  When he opened his eyes, his lungs filled with cold air. White clouds fell from his lips, and stones crunched under his soles. It felt too cold for the end of September. Maybe that was also because of him.

  His arm clutched tightly by Zoroark’s paw, they stumbled forwards. The feeling in his legs was missing, but for those seconds, he still functioned. Meanwhile, his companion dug through his mane with his free paw until a Poké Ball emerged. He tossed it in the air. Red matter formed, turning bck, leaving Zekrom standing before them in full grace. The heavy snort blew icy wind through Natural’s clothes, chilling the pain and draining the rest of his energy.

  “Where are we travelling to, young hero?” The deep, humming voice addressed Natural, but his tongue remained unable to answer.

  “Away,” Zoroark replied. “Away from this pce, out of this region! Just ... take him away.”

  Zekrom’s head bowed. Without further ado, his partner took him in his arms and, with a powerful leap, transported them both onto the dragon’s back. The warmth of another nestled against N’s legs, and as Zekrom swung them into the air, tremors settled in Naturals’ body. Half in a trance, his gaze fell to his reddened fingertips. The dirt under his nails reminded him of the old days when he had dug for Weedles in Ghetsis’ garden. A smile formed on his lips, and although every fibre of his being rebelled, the question whether running away was the right way to go sprouted.

  Was there somewhere out there where he could find a pce? Between humans and Pokémon? Or was Ghetsis right?

  The questions fshed through his body like lightning. A knot twisted his stomach. The urge to look over his shoulder overpowered him.

  Were they already being followed?

  Did his father care enough not to want to let him go?

  As if in slow motion, Natural turned his head until his cheek met Zoroark’s nose halfway. The sudden warm whisper in his ear forced his gaze back forwards. Simple words that settled over Natural’s senses like a shroud.

  “Don’t look back.”