Chapter 20 - Pokéseeker

  At four in the morning, Elduran roamed the streets, knowing that five hours of sleep would have to suffice. He sometimes marveled at his own ability to slumber through any disturbance—noise, lights...even loss. Though he had endured the loss of entire units before, this time, losing Vivillon and Heracross struck him with an inexplicable intensity. He grappled with understanding why their absence hurt more deeply. He had cherished them more than he would admit, even to himself. Yet, he had also cared for the comrades he lost in the army.

  Vivillon and Heracross had depended on him for their survival; that must have been it. It was guilt he experienced. Though, of course, that was a foolish notion. That wasn't the cause. He had led those units in APSO, and they too counted on him for their survival. He sensed the truth edging into his thoughts, yet steadfastly resisted its full arrival. He dreaded the acceptance, fearing his entire world would collapse if he dared to embrace it.

  He missed Anaya more than he had anticipated. There was something about her that had captivated him. Certainly, she was with another man—a man he deeply respected. Elduran would never entertain the thought of seducing her or anything of the kind. That man would now have to endure the news that Elduran had utterly failed him and allowed his beloved to die a terrible death. He also hoped Jabari was not religious, because at this moment, there was no grave to visit or ashes to hold. All that remained was the last painting she created the night before.

  Elduran acknowledged that he bore more responsibility than Anaya and Aisha did. That was beyond dispute. They had behaved exactly as expected—no one anticipated Aisha would refrain from pursuing the receiver, nor Anaya for that matter. Yet, he was the ex-military man. He ought to have ascended to check the receiver himself. On his own, he might have been able to shake their trail and divert them away from the girls. There was so much more he could have achieved if he had just surveyed that cursed peak alone. How foolish he had been. So much death on his hands.

  He was traversing the southern side of the city. It was decidedly quieter than the bustling east side they'd entered the previous night. Predominantly residential, the area had more roads carved out for automobiles, though the sparse number of vehicles parked along the curbs led him to doubt that many residents owned them. Similar to Dirthrow, trucks were a more common sight. While he wasn't quite certain of Dasos' primary industry, the abundance of trucks suggested timber. He was aware that Dendra City was Tenera’s largest timber supplier, a fact well-known due to the political friction between Dendra and Asven, the capital, over demands for Dendra’s tax exemption due to their substantial contributions. To Elduran, that seemed like total Arceus shit. None of it made any sense to him.

  The captivating pebble roads, paired with the stone buildings—all of which, without exception, transformed into wooden log fa?ades from the second floor upward—crafted a visually striking uniformity and intricate detail throughout the city. At this late hour, scarcely any souls wandered these streets. Each building stood flush with the road, seemingly accompanied by a small communal lawn at the rear, shared by the entire block. The gaps between the buildings appeared so narrow that two people walking side by side would struggle to pass simultaneously. Though enveloped by abundant forest, they had nevertheless constructed this city with remarkable density, a fact that unsettled him as he pondered its rationale.

  There it was – he checked his phone, confirming he had reached his destination as directed by his navigation app: the Pokéseekers office. Nestled on the outskirts of the city, this establishment boasted a sprawling fenced area behind its building. No Pokémon were seen roaming the grounds at night; perhaps they had been fed and returned to their Pokéballs. Renowned as the Pokéseekers, their services catered more to trainers than to those seeking Pokémon as mere companions.

  They fulfilled requests from trainers to capture specific Pokémon, standing apart from Breeders by pursuing even the final evolutionary forms, should the customer be willing to pay the price. Unlike breeders with limited offerings, no Pokémon was beyond their reach; they always maintained a stock of strong Pokémon in their inventory. When not engaged in specific contracts, their employee trainers would pursue any rare or powerful Pokémon they encountered, whereas breeders could only offer what they had raised. Often, trainers would stop by the office to immediately acquire any available strong Pokémon, necessitating a well-stocked inventory for such spontaneous demands.

  Elduran moved past the building and the secluded fenced area behind it. Venturing deeper into the forest, he ensured that no one was watching before he seized two Pokéballs and released both Pokémon simultaneously. Flygon and Aerodactyl lay in a state close to death. He set the Pokéballs down and, with a decisive kick, severed their top halves from the bottom while they remained open. From this moment forth, they were free Pokémon. Then, retrieving two empty Pokéballs, he tossed one to each Pokémon. It took mere moments; they were registered to him now. That freedom did not last very long he thought. Yet, he knew they would never heed the call of a trainer who had struck down their previous master. Even if they did, the arduous task of taming them would take time, if he managed to survive the process. Since Furret never sustained any damage, he regrettably found himself unable to perform the same process for her. From the brief observations he made, he was convinced that this large Furret was indeed female.

  Elduran approached the Pokéseekers building. Observing the second and third floors, he concluded they were likely residential. Picking up a small stone, he tossed it at a window. Nothing. He tried again, but still no reaction. When the third pebble struck, the window opened, and from it emerged a vibrant red light that took the form of a Dragonite, landing gracefully beside him. Unflustered, Elduran stood his ground, not feigning a calm demeanor, but genuinely feeling no fear for his life.

  A woman's voice echoed down, "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" she questioned.

  Elduran glanced up to find a woman, her hair a solid black and her age marking her in her fifties, olive skin, gazing at him. "Good morning!" he greeted. "I have a proposal for you, and I simply couldn't wait for daybreak to share it."

  She continued to scrutinize him before directing her gaze to the Dragonite. "What do you think, Drein?" she inquired.

  Quietly, Dragonite murmured, "Draaaaa."

  "You actually have respect for this guy? That's quite the compliment coming from you," she remarked to Drein, then addressed Elduran again, "Alright, I'll hear what you've got to say," she conceded, securing the window but leaving Dragonite outdoors with Elduran.

  Elduran met Dragonite's eyes, "Thanks. I hoped this encounter would go smoothly because yesterday I had a really rough day," he confessed, unsure why he was sharing at all.

  With a gentle "Draaaa," Dragonite seemed to empathize, leaving Elduran to question his own sanity. Imagining comfort from a Pokémon, he felt oddly reassured.

  After a few minutes, the door swung open, revealing the woman now donned in jeans and a brown tank top. She gestured him inside, and he obliged. The Dragonite was deftly recalled into its Pokéball, then re-released inside, probably because it did not fit to go through the door.

  Upon entering, Elduran observed the woman perched on one of two couches positioned just beyond the doorway. "A waiting area," he mused, advancing to occupy the opposite seat.

  Her eyes never left him. "If your proposal wastes my time, I assure you, Drein here will rearrange a few of your bones," she warned.

  "I suspect it will prove worthwhile," Elduran replied confidently.

  "Then speak—I’ve a bed awaiting," she urged.

  "I possess two formidable Pokémon, both exceptional in species and strength, that I wish to sell," Elduran declared.

  Her gaze swept over him, appraising from toe to crown before she queried, "And why conduct this at night?"

  Meeting her stare, Elduran replied, "Because they were not obtained legally, yet they are rightfully mine."

  "Oh, and how does that align?" she inquired.

  "A man assaulted me; He doesn't really need his Pokémon anymore. I figured they were owed to me for the death my own," Elduran explained coolly.

  "And why should I trust your tale?"

  "I assumed you didn’t need to," Elduran responded.

  A smile crept onto her lips, "You're growing on me. You’re correct, I don’t care, yet I need these details. Managing these Pokémon means ensuring their past doesn’t trail them to me. Are the Pokéballs yours or the original trainer’s?"

  "They’re mine," he answered.

  "A rookie mistake. In future dealings, ensure it doesn't occur. We could have easily claimed I discovered them in the wild, that their trainer met his end while his killer was sympathetic towards his Pokémon and had the decency to free them. Now they know they’ve come to me through you," she advised.

  "Not quite; they're near death and oblivious to me capturing them," Elduran contended.

  "That’s where you are wrong. Inside their Pokéballs, they comprehend more than you imagine. They’ll know of the Pokéball switch, but without seeing your face during it, we might manage, though their state means a lowered price," she mentioned.

  "Agreed," Elduran acceded.

  "So, which Pokémon are in question? Let’s see if my time was wasted."

  "An Aerodactyl and a Flygon," Elduran answered.

  Her smile broadened, and she rose, gesturing for him to follow her. She unlocked the rear door, leading him to a fenced enclosure. Facing him, she recalled her Dragonite momentarily before it reappeared at her side. "Release them from their Pokéballs."

  Elduran complied, and Aerodactyl and Flygon materialized before her. Her enthusiasm was palpable as she inspected them, testing muscle tone, examining jaws, and assessing wings. Satisfied, she signaled for Elduran to return them to their Pokéballs. "Let’s go back inside," she stated, recalling her Dragonite for the final time, and this time, it remained unsummoned indoors.

  The woman moved behind the front desk, activating her computer system. While it booted up, she said to him, "You can call me Larsa."

  "Nice to meet you...I suppose?" Elduran remarked.

  "Those Pokémon possess incredible power, which suggests you must be quite formidable to have defeated their trainer."

  "You should've seen his Snorlax—an absolute behemoth," Elduran commented.

  "You have a Snorlax as well?" Larsa inquired; her interest piqued.

  "No, that one I deposited into a chasm so deep it's virtually unreachable. It never fainted; I doubt I even caused it harm. Its loyalty to its trainer was unyielding. I merely managed to recall it to its Pokéball before it pulverized me," Elduran recounted.

  "I see. You did well, though I must concede, some Pokémon become uncontrollable after their trainer's demise. Attempting to subdue it merely for capture would render it untamable for resale," Larsa admitted.

  "I suspected as much," Elduran replied.

  "That Aerodactyl is quite valuable. Flygon, too, has worth, but Aerodactyl can fetch about 250,000 crimson cetis. I'll offer you 80,000 for it, and don't attempt to negotiate," she proposed.

  "That sounds reasonable to me," Elduran replied, realizing he was receiving twice his expected amount and saw no reason for contention.

  "Excellent. The Flygon, I estimate, could sell for 150,000 crimson cetis. Thus 40,000 cetis to you. Do we have an agreement?"

  "Yes," Elduran answered.

  "You aren’t much of a talker, are you?"

  "Not in the mood," Elduran replied.

  "Understood, no pressure. But...I have a proposition for you."

  "What proposition?" he inquired.

  "Join us," Larsa suggested.

  "I can't. Two reasons: I lack Pokémon, and I have an imperative mission," Elduran stated.

  "How about as a freelancer, akin to a bounty hunter?" Larsa offered.

  "What do you mean?"

  "You'll receive requests on your phone, with approximate locations for sought-after Pokémon. Capture one and deliver it to our offices, and you get paid. You need only capture one annually to maintain benefits," Larsa explained.

  "What benefits?" Elduran inquired.

  "Besides direct request updates and potential location tips, you’ll earn 50% of the profits," Larsa detailed.

  "But I have no Pokémon," Elduran reminded her.

  "You're strong; you'll build a team again shortly."

  "I never had a full team, just three," Elduran revealed.

  "How on earth did you manage to defeat the trainer of these Pokémon?"

  "Never mind that. So, I can join, and if I don’t capture any Pokémon from the contracts, I simply lose benefits and that's it?" Elduran clarified.

  "Exactly," she affirmed.

  "Very well, sign me up."

  "Your trainer ID, please," she requested. Elduran obliged. "Elduran, is it? I've never come across that name," she noted.

  "I've never encountered a Larsa either," he replied, coaxing a smile from her.

  In ten minutes, Elduran was officially a Pokéseeker and received 120,000 crimson cetis.

  "The payment will be classified as income, so you're in compliance with the law, and taxes will apply," she informed him with a smile.

  "That's fine," Elduran acknowledged, considering how the money could last a long time in Tenera. An Aerodactyl of this caliber might have been triple in value in Kanto, but the purchasing power was significantly less there.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  "I hope you earn all the badges to become a permanent resident; you're quite promising. If you don't secure a way to extend your stay in Tenera by the end of next August, your role here concludes," Larsa warned.

  "I will keep that in mind," Elduran replied, though he couldn't resist the urge to pose one more question, however foolish it might seem; he was curious to witness her reaction. "Do you ever sell to the Watchers?" he inquired.

  She remained unfazed, "Honestly, it's uncertain. But know this: if someone is a Watcher—as a Pokéseeker now, you'll learn this from the company's handbook—we're prohibited from selling them Pokémon. Why, someone of your rank, unfortunately, doesn't have clearance to know. Supposedly, Tenera is absent of Watchers, but beware; they could be anywhere," she explained.

  "I'm intrigued. Why would a profit-driven organization avoid selling to the Watchers?" Elduran asked.

  "Advance in rank, learn how to climb. Mostly, it's about fulfilling contracts," Larsa hinted.

  Elduran approached her, placing his hands on the desk. "The man I killed, I firmly believe he was affiliated with them," Elduran shared, risking much. He noticed her eyebrows twitch and her demeanor shift, betraying her composure.

  "I can't quite read you, Elduran, but you seem decent...for a killer," she commented with a slight smile before continuing, "If your mission opposes them, prioritize those contracts. The better you perform, the more I can advocate for you within our ranks. As a gesture, I'll personally vouch for you in each Pokéseeker branch, except for Pounai and Krion, where we lack presence," Larsa offered.

  "I don’t appreciate being made to work extensively for potentially life-saving information, but I value having something to strive toward, albeit slower than desired. Farewell, Larsa!" Elduran concluded.

  "Take care, Elduran," Larsa called as Elduran stepped out of the Pokéseekers building. He now held an official, legitimate job in Tenera. He hadn't questioned why he, as a foreigner, could secure employment here; he trusted that Larsa was aware of the possibilities. In his home regions of Kanto and Johto, he didn't think foreigners touring the league and collecting badges could legitimately find work. Yet, he wasn't entirely sure of that.

  He preferred to do this at night because, despite Aisha's urgency to see Aerodactyl and Flygon eliminated just yesterday, today, after reflecting on it, she might persuade him to hand them over to Love and Provide, commonly known as L&P. He had already noticed their offices in Asven and Dirthrow. Her sharp intellect comprehended their financial necessities, yet occasionally, despite her brilliance, she reverted into a naive young girl with dreams of rescuing the world, neglecting those along the path who required saving. Elduran often forgot that Aisha was still quite young. Certainly, the events of the previous day had accelerated her maturity by a decade. While he assumed she might still opt for the Pokéseekers over L&P, he wasn't willing to gamble on it.

  L&P was undeniably a safer option. Trainers found immunity there because no money exchanged hands for their unwanted Pokémon, and inquiries about the origins of the creatures were strictly forbidden. After a certain duration, if a Pokémon remained unadopted, L&P would release it back into the wild. He couldn’t comprehend how Pokémon like Aerodactyl and Flygon could be tamed and offered to trainers at a mere fraction of the cost one would pay for even an egg from a breeder of such species. Acquiring a Pokémon from L&P was considered an absolute bargain. What trainer could resist the allure of an Aerodactyl or a Flygon? Although he was unsure of their exact processes, he speculated that these formidable Pokémon were likely kept hidden from prospective adopters. They were simply too dangerous and would probably end up being released back into the wild.

  The train station was merely a ten-minute walk from the Pokémon Center, leading him to assume that Aisha set her alarm for five-thirty at the earliest, as the first train to Dirthrow departed at six. She cherished her sleep, which meant she would soon wake up and realize his absence. He could inform her to meet him at the station, but he needed to retrieve his duffel bag and the assault rifle. His quiver and bow were already on him. He couldn't recall the last time he had actually packed away his bow; it was almost perpetually clipped to his waist. The battle yesterday highlighted how he could have benefited from a higher pound bow; his current one was built for speed and precision, focusing on targeting weak spots—a misjudgment on his part. He would never have the opportunity to fire two arrows in rapid succession in a battle against Pokémon as formidable as those he faced yesterday. Were it not for his decision to switch to firearms after Dan's death, he might have considered acquiring a more robust bow with significantly higher pound draw weight, perhaps up to 80 pounds. Yet, none of that mattered now. What he truly needed was a reliable bolt-action rifle.

  On his journey to the Pokémon center, he noticed to his left a building towering over the others he had encountered. Curiosity piqued, he opted for a slight detour, reasoning that he could afford a momentary distraction to explore this imposing structure. After passing two intersections, he arrived at the majestic edifice: a pyramid-like building. The lower part was crafted from stone, with numerous windows, while enormous wooden logs, seemingly defying possibility, rested above and stretched skyward, converging at a peak roughly eighty feet off the ground. The longest logs marked the four corners, with smaller ones filling the space between. Above the entrance, a grand sign proclaimed "Dasos Gym," adorned with the drawing of a leaf. Elduran did not need to consult his phone to recognize it as a Grass-type gym.

  Though not typically interested in architecture, this building captivated him. He recalled the grandeur of the library in Dirthrow, yet found himself oddly more intrigued by the structure before him. He mused on how, at the very least, his last remaining Pokémon had the type advantage here; fire decisively beats grass, as do bug and flying types. Together, Vivillon and Heracross, alongside Cyndaquil, could have stood a real chance at earning another badge and enjoying a battle where failure did not equate to peril. But that was all behind him now; not even Cyndaquil remained. Last remaining Pokémon, he mocked himself, reminding himself that he had released him, chiding himself for being a fool.

  He felt compelled to tear his gaze away from the building. Turning around, he inhaled deeply and headed towards the Pokémon Center. Gym battles had never stirred his interest, but his Pokémon loved them. At that moment, all he could focus on was the happiness they shared, tirelessly training to defeat Stephanie Crock in Dirthrow. Despite the dismal nature of that town, it was there he had made his last treasured memories with his team—more than just Pokémon; they were family. Everything had been reduced to ash, and he couldn't shake the thought that this was quite literal.

  A greater number of people populated the streets now, as this area lay near the train station and shops began to open, offering breakfast and coffee. Yet, not even the aroma of coffee, his cherished scent, could distract him from feeling like a mere husk. No, there would be no coffee until that sack of meat ceased to exist. He continued to scrutinize everyone around—a person's age, gender, or physical traits were inconsequential; they were all under suspicion in Elduran’s eyes. Who could say whom the Watchers might employ? It was the seemingly innocent who posed the greatest threat, as people often lowered their guard around them.

  Reaching the center didn't take long; it was half-past five in the morning. He hoped Aisha would be awake, or he would have to leave without her. As he entered, he found her already seated in the waiting area. Her Pokémon were gathered around her, probably having just been collected from the nurse: Hattrem, Togetic, Marill... and Cyndaquil as well. It was likely the first occasion Togetic and Marill truly mourned Clefairy together with their family. Both appeared deeply saddened. Aisha and Hattrem weren’t in much better spirits. She likely hadn’t slept much, given she was already up and prepared to go. When their eyes met, he simply nodded before his gaze moved to Cyndaquil. The creature was staring directly at him, with his eyes opened, a rare sight, showing no tears or emotion. Elduran wondered when Cyndaquil had become so strong or if it was merely a fa?ade. He turned his head forward and ascended the stairs to his room.

  Gathering his belongings took mere moments; all he needed was his bag and the rifle—five seconds at most. But as he reached for the door, his arm tensed, and an overwhelming urge surged through him to smash the doorknob he gripped so fiercely. With effort, he released it, returning to the bed where he sat, drawing in deep, steadying breaths. The urge to punch something, anything, consumed him more than ever before. What was wrong with him? The thought echoed in his mind, clouded and confused. Today was meant to be an improvement—it should have been better than yesterday, and tomorrow better than today. He believed he was stronger than this. Was he really going to let loss defeat him? Earlier that morning, he seemed fine; the anger simmered beneath the surface, yet he functioned normally. So, what had struck him so suddenly now? He couldn't think—no, he didn't want to think. He had to escape; perhaps being unseen allowed him to drop the fa?ade, to stop pretending he was okay when alone. He needed to go where he could be seen, and he needed to do it now.

  The moment Aisha's gaze locked on him, his sense of control resurfaced. She pivoted and slipped through the door, and he trailed behind. The first light was beginning to seep from the east, and the streets had grown even more crowded. At this hour, Dirthrow was a ghost town, as was, for that matter, Asven, in comparison to this vibrant place. He could inquire about the reason from Aisha, but he found he didn't much care at the moment. Moreover, that would necessitate a conversation, which was far from appealing in his present state.

  The buildings terminated abruptly, giving way to a rare expanse in the bustling city—a vast clearing. Before him stretched the grand train station, a harmonious blend of old-world charm and modern innovation. Twin monorail tracks glided gracefully from the east and west, elevated above the urban sprawl like sleek, metallic serpents. Yet, upon nearing the station, they descended sharply, diving earthward with precision. This sudden drop created the necessity for the wide-open space, a calculated clearance to ensure the safety of the city's inhabitants. The station itself was a complex tapestry of stone and wood.

  In front of the station lay a sprawling plaza. From the glimpse he caught on the north side, it mirrored another plaza on the opposite end. Numerous small kiosks dotted the scene, offering a variety of breakfast options like egg sandwiches, as well as bakery delights such as pretzels, bagels, and donuts. Others peddled souvenirs, mostly shirts emblazoned with the gym's emblem or keychains, alongside a multitude of T-shirts proudly declaring "Kaphepra University" or showcasing bars, clubs, and restaurants. Elduran was starting to piece together the origins of the area's vibrant nightlife. Of course, several kiosks served coffee, and Aisha was already at one. They still had ten minutes, and they were practically there.

  Elduran turned and began his walk towards the stairs leading to the station's entrance. Passing through the revolving doors, he found himself inside a long, narrow space. A desk stood with attendants assisting customers, though few opted for their help. Most people preferred the automated self-service machines scattered around, printing their own tickets. Elduran chose the personal touch of live service. He was greeted courteously, to which he responded simply, "Two tickets to Dirthrow." The attendant started processing his request and informed him of the cost: 2,000 crimson cetis. This startled him; everything in Tenera had been inexpensive so far, and the price caught him off guard. Yet, when considering that most Tenerans didn’t have the expense of a car, fuel, and only occasionally paid for a train to another town, it didn’t seem so extravagant. Nonetheless, relying on this service for travel across the region made the 120,000 crimson cetis he earned from selling the two Pokémon seem less substantial now.

  He got the two tickets and Aisha was right behind him, stretching her hand offering him a coffee. He looked from the coffee in front of his face and then to Aisha, "thanks," he said grabbing the coffee and offering her her ticker with his other hand.

  "Let's go, train is already here, we can go grab some seats," she said.

  He trailed behind, with Aisha leading the way, and Hatrrem trotting closely at her side. It was remarkable how swiftly Hatrrem could move now with her ponytail-like appendages. Togetic fluttered just above Aisha's head, while Marill ambled next to Cyndaquil right behind her. Elduran brought up the rear, leisurely sipping his coffee as they proceeded. Upon exiting the station from the opposite side, the train awaited them, its digital displays on every wagon prominently showing "Dirthrow." The floor signs before them marked "Eastbound." He speculated that if he crossed the skybridge to the other side, the floor there would be labeled "Westbound."

  As they prepared to board the first wagon they came across, the man at the entrance gestured to a sign posted beside him. It stated, "Please keep Pokémon inside their Pokéballs while boarding. If the train is not at full capacity once it is in motion, you may release them. However, kindly recall them when passengers require seating. Thank you for your cooperation." Complying with the sign's instructions, Aisha recalled all four of her Pokémon. Elduran mused that Cyndaquil would be invaluable to her. The strength he would develop under her guidance was something he hoped to witness, even if just once, before facing the uncertainty of survival.

  Aisha strolled inside, with him trailing behind. The interior of the train surpassed his wildest fantasies. Perhaps this was first class? Black dominated from the waist down, while a deep red enveloped everything above. The floor was laid with black carpet, and sleek black leather covered the seats. On each side of the aisle were rows of three seats, facing opposite directions—three forward, three backward—divided by a black table. It hardly resembled Tenera at all. Instead, it was far more modern than anything he had encountered in any other region. The black carpet crept up the walls before yielding to the dark red that stretched all the way to the ceiling.

  Aisha took a seat in the middle seat on the first row she found completely free, as were the seats across the table. Elduran put his stuff on the seat across from her next to the window then went back to her row and sat right next to her by the window. Aisha looked at him in disbelief.

  "There are three seats across the table, do we need to be this close? I mean it is fine if you want the company," she said.

  It was Elduran's turn to look at her in disbelief, "these seats are huge, an Ursaring could fit in one of these chairs, but no, I just hate traveling with my back facing the direction the train is moving," he said plainly as he turned his head to look outside the window.

  "Alright, never thought people would have trouble with that, but if someone would, that would be you," she tried to tease, but it came out more than she was talking to herself.

  A few minutes later, the train began its journey. There were few travelers at this early hour. Aisha released all four of her Pokémon: Hattrem, Marill, and Togetic took their places on the row of seats opposite, while Cyndaquil settled on the table before her. He was certain she was doing it intentionally. He longed to apologize to Cyndaquil, to confess that he hadn’t meant the words he’d spoken, but he feared this would only prompt the creature to plead for reinstatement. It was for the best, he told himself, both for Cyndaquil and for the mission's success.

  His mastery of firearms served a far greater purpose than training Pokémon ever could. It was not about his personal preferences; it was about fulfilling what he believed the world required of him. Or perhaps, more accurately, what he thought the world required. The world remained oblivious to his aims. He was no hero, merely a delusional man who briefly imagined he could make a difference by confronting the Watchers with all he possessed.

  As the train glided above the rooftops of Dasos City, the morning sun began its ascent, casting a gentle glow across the landscape. It dawned on him just how beautiful the city truly was. Yet, he wasn't overly enthused by its layout—each building set in perfect squares, their lots seemingly identical, creating an overly symmetrical appearance that didn't quite suit his taste. However, he appreciated the shared architectural principles that tied the city together. The consistent use of stone and log in every building lent a picturesque quality to the townscape. This was a striking contrast to Asven, a city where modernity clashed with history—stone, concrete, wood, metal, all thrown together in a haphazard jumble that defined its aesthetic chaos.

  Once they crossed the city limits, the train accelerated with astounding velocity. He knew they were swift, having observed them from the ground before while traveling on foot, but now, being inside, he truly felt the speed. This journey would take just under three hours—a distance that had taken him three days to traverse on foot. Aisha had her laptop open, scrutinizing the photo of the trainer they had killed. He pondered why she had even sent it to him. Had she noticed him rifling through their pockets for identification? He found nothing on any of them, suspecting their belongings were on the taller mountain they descended from. A trek there would have consumed valuable hours. It was considerably taller and quite distant; they would never have made it to Dasos in time for a timely rest like they’d managed last night. In truth, Elduran didn't care at that moment. He could always return later, or better yet, they could dispatch Mew to handle it; it would take only hours to go and return.

  Elduran decided it was time to speak up. "Why did you send me that picture, Aisha? You know I wouldn't be able to find anything on my own," he said.

  Aisha silenced her phone and closed her laptop with a resigned sigh. "I can't find anything. I'm sure Tia will manage," she said, turning to Elduran, a flicker of apprehension crossing her features. "I wasn’t even sure I could go back to Dirthrow," she admitted, her voice laced with uncertainty.

  "You were afraid you couldn’t face them," he replied straightforwardly. "It’s fortunate you changed your mind. You need to learn to take responsibility. When you’re in the muck, just own it and keep moving forward. If every time something goes wrong, the team thinks you might abandon us, your reliability is called into question," he stated firmly.

  "No one will care about me once they learn how badly I messed things up," Aisha murmured.

  Elduran spun around, grasping her arm firmly and meeting her gaze with intensity. She winced, trying to stifle a cry of pain, prompting him to ease his grip. "Il care about you," Elduran asserted with conviction. "I desperately need you... Aisha, I can't do this alone," he admitted, letting her arm go.

  She began to rub the spot where Elduran had held her. Hattrem and Cyndaquil seemed indifferent, yet Togetic and Marill were already regarding Elduran with suspicion.

  "Elduran...thank you," she whispered, "I imagine this wasn't easy for you to say, and to be honest, I don't entirely believe you mean it. It feels more like words spoken to placate me. Yet, oddly enough, it is working," Aisha confessed. Elduran clearly found himself without words so Aisha pressed on, "listen to me now, it's time to truly begin mourning," she insisted.

  Still, Elduran's gaze was fixed on the vast stretch of forest rushing by beneath them as the train sped forward. "I am mourning," he replied quietly.

  Aisha gently placed a hand on his shoulder, "no, you're not. Elduran... let those tears fall," she urged with determination.

  Elduran replied, "tears won't bring back Viv, Blue or Anaya, nor will they erase that despicable man from existence. So, what good would they do?" His voice was firm.

  Aisha offered him a small, heartfelt smile, "believe me, it will heal you," she promised, resting her head against his shoulder, her eyes meeting Cyndaquil's gaze as the creature looked back at them. The train snaked its way toward Dirthrow, a metallic serpent on its tracks. Her words lingered in his thoughts, but the image of Dan loomed persistently in the background. No matter what, Dan had to be dealt with first.