Two long weeks…

  Mother and father at her bedside every day…

  Endless tears and praying...

  … But she never recovered. Her father clasped her paws with his as she breathed her last. The two-year old Litten didn’t stand a chance; her fragile immune system couldn’t stave off this novel strain of pneumonavirus. It was quick and ruthless. The acute respiratory acidosis struck with no warning and, despite the doctors’ efforts, led to a plethora of other problems resulting in heart failure. Choked sobs and shrieks from her family filled the room as the flatline signaled Lily lost the life she barely lived.

  The entirety of the children’s ward was like this. Seemed every other minute, another family was cast into the inevitable pit of grief. The pneumonavirus claimed victims as easily as a huntsman picked off fledgling deer. Infant here, toddler there; their brittle systems couldn’t abide its onslaught.

  As the minutes passed and Lily’s complexion and extremities became colder and bluer, her father’s grief waxed hot. The Incineroar shook his head slowly and repeatedly. He muttered under his breath.

  “Should’ve never… should’ve never…”

  His grief went from a simmer to a boil, tears of bereavement to tears of anger. His teeth clenched into a caustic snarl. His precious Lily should’ve been alive. She should’ve been home, playing with her siblings. She should’ve been running around, chasing butterflies. This virus? Should’ve never existed.

  The veins in the Incineroar’s arms and face bulged as hostile thoughts inundated his heart; he released his daughter’s paw to avoid crushing it.

  His wife noticed his demeanor. “… Reuben?”

  He looked at her, but said nothing. His breathing quickened. His hands clenched into fists.

  “Reuben…” She subtly shook her head and intoned just audibly enough for him to hear. “No… w-we don’t need this now…”

  He grunted in reply and slowly stood up. “Excuse me…” He turned to leave, aware of the eyes of his family following, but that didn’t matter. He needed to think.

  His steps carried him down a long, tiled hall. Rooms lining its sides led to more families gutted by the virus. A son here, daughter there, some parents lost all their children. A cacophony of wails tore through the bereaved feline, each tear feeding his righteous anger. All these children could’ve lived... His hostile thoughts morphed into those of unfettered justice. The culprit who robbed all these young ones their lives needed to pay dearly.

  All this blood was on that villain, Ohara’s hands. Reuben pictured himself strangling that vile Weavile; remove his ability to breathe as painfully as possible and give him a taste of his own medicine. Though Rutger attempted to console the nation that Ohara was close to being captured, it did not convince him. Ohara should’ve been caught day one, yet he was still loose? Revaria’s military couldn’t catch a trapped mouse. No, if recompense was to be served, Reuben would have to hunt him down. Ensnaring wrongdoers was his job, rooting out thugs and ruffians tucked away in nooks they thought were safe. Despite his stocky build, he was stealthy enough to lurk in the shadows and strike at the right moment. Catching Ohara would be no different; Shebaton Caverns didn’t scare him.

  That Weavile was going to die.

  -

  Streaks of white, blue, and purple blurred Terrence’s vision as he stole violently through a sea of infinite black. A similar streak of yellow extended before him as though attached to his face. Nikki was nowhere to be seen but, to Terrence’s horror, neither was he. He reached forward in hopes of finding her, but couldn’t see his arms. Instead, two impossibly-long yellow lines extended before him, as though they were arms-

  Wait.

  … Were those his arms?

  He dropped his arms and the lines went away. It was then his disoriented mind put another piece of the puzzle together. That streak of yellow stuck to his face…

  It couldn’t be. Terrence was dreaming.

  He turned his head to the right and left. The yellow line followed his vision. He looked back over his shoulder, and a wider yellow line stretched behind him for what might have been lightyears. It was like his body was being pulled in opposite directions by forces galaxies apart. Heart thudding from unthinkable panic, he cried for help. He sensed the movement of his vocal cords... but couldn’t hear his own voice.

  Strangely enough, he heard Nikki’s

  “TEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWwwwwyyyyyyyyyyy…….”

  Like an echo tapering into a void. He shouted back, or at least, hoped he did. His voice was lost on his ears. Still, being able to hear her was an anchor in this otherworldly maelstrom. It was the only familiarity amidst what he could only interpret as a harrowing out-of-body phenomenon. As though wading through severe sleep paralysis, Terrence desperately tried to will himself awake, but every movement of his arms told him they were of no use. Long, spindly extensions he couldn’t control. He tried and tried... teeth clenched… eyes moist… more cries for his parents...

  Trapped.

  … There was no waking up.

  -

  Michelle’s eyes popped open and she wiped a trickle of sweat from her brow. She had that dream again. Fiction so close to reality that every iteration made her head swim. Though awake, she was not at ease. She found her husband’s paw and held it. Her breathing gradually calmed.

  “It’s okay… just a dream… all just a dream…” She closed her eyes again and tried to relax. She turned her head left to face her children’s tent. All quiet. No silhouette stirred. Her babies were sound asleep. Everything was peaceful...

  Better check on them anyways. Just in case.

  Silently, she let go of Gerald’s hand and slipped out from her sleeping bag. She crept out from her tent and her heart skipped a beat.

  Their tent flap fluttered freely in the cool breeze. Completely open.

  “Kids?” She strode to the tent, stooped, and peeked inside. Terrence’s sleeping bag looked unused; Nikki’s was lightly rustled. Both were vacant, just their lingering scents. She crawled inside and frantically patted every square foot. Anything they could hide under.

  Nothing.

  She backed out of the tent and stood. Pulse raced as she surveyed her surroundings. Were they by the lake? Gallivanting elsewhere on the campgrounds or in the forest? Her eyes strained for movement, but all that greeted her was the still darkness.

  “Kids!” A wave of dread washed over her. Eyes moistened as she tried the next logical thing; follow their scents. A remote, almost imperceptible odor clung to the air in the tent’s proximity. Unmistakably Terrence and Nikki’s but, when she attempted to trace it, the lingering scent of seasoned pike and potato salad clashed with it. Her children consumed into thin air. Back to her tent she scrambled.

  Gerald woke with a start. His wife quietly shook his shoulder with a tense hand, tears in her eyes.

  “Wha-?” He sat up.

  “Th-they’re gone...” Michelle put her other hand to her mouth as if trying to stifle a scream. “Our babies aren’t here…”

  A burst of adrenaline spurred Gerald to the children’s tent in hurried steps. No Terrence. No Nikki. No more answers than his wife had. Michelle shook as she failed to hold her sobs down.

  “Gerald, wh-where-?”

  He turned and firmly grasped her shoulders. If he had anxiety, it was restrained. “They couldn’t have gone far.” He looked toward the forest briefly. “Go tell security and I’ll start looking.”

  His assertive demeanor restored some of her confidence. She brushed away her tears and ran off. As Gerald’s eyes acclimated to the low light, he attempted to scrutinize his surroundings. Grass lightly trampled and… that was it? It was a tinge of relief; a kidnapping would’ve likely shown signs of struggle. The well-kept condition of the kids’ sleeping bags and tent indicated no violence. He also only picked up his family’s scent; no one else’s odor polluted the scene.

  But that modicum of relief subsided quickly. Kidnapping unlikely but… it meant Terrence and Nikki wandered away voluntarily. Flagrant disobedience. A disappointed frown crossed his muzzle, but he could postpone his anger until after his children were safe. With few words and a heavy heart, he importuned God for guidance, wisdom, and comfort. He didn’t know how much he and Michelle would need.

  Nor Terrence and Nikki, for that matter.

  -

  Ringing in the ears… limbs sore… back aching… unrelenting headache… Terrence groaned as he slowly opened his eyes. Blues of varying kinds all around him. Rocks jutting from the ceiling... glowing, faintly radiant, alien…

  His tinnitus slowly dissipated. Someone… crying? He turned his head to the right and to the left, grunting as his sore neck muscles protested.

  “Who… wha…?” Disoriented phonemes vaporized into the air. The wails sounded like his sister’s… but where was she? Hard to answer when even he didn’t know where he was. He gritted his teeth as her incessant pleas compounded his headache.

  “M-MOMMY! DADDY!”

  Terrence’s senses returned nerve by nerve. Clearer sight, clearer sounds, clearer feeling… Then he felt the chilled bed of gravel and hard soil against his back. Every pebble a microscopic tack penetrating his skin.

  His eyes watered from the unforgiving pain and he turned on his side. His new perspective revealed a little more… More chemiluminescent rocks. No… were those crystals? Diamonds? Stretching further toward the other end of the chamber, there was... a tunnel? Not sure. Some darkened passage, hole, or... something. In strained agony, he rolled onto his belly and tried to stand. Dull pain surged through his limbs as his joints creaked. Arms and legs trembled as they fought to support him. Every muscle and bone pleaded for mercy; he felt like he’d just been clobbered by a posse of Machokes.

  His mental faculties finally righted themselves, he hoped. Memories opened themselves in his addled mind. The blue light, the chimeric hum of machine and animal, the stretching, the tearing through a void… He couldn’t make sense of it. That was a bad dream, a fevered hallucination-

  More screams and scratches interrupted his thoughts.

  Nikki!

  A hunk of obsidian obscured his view, but her voice sounded close by. He trudged from behind the obstruction and saw Nikki desperately scratching at a cracked, concave chunk of wall.

  “MOMMY! DADDY!” Her claws chipped at the unyielding impasse, scattering granules everywhere. Between her cries and strikes, a muffled and indistinguishable voice permeated the wall from the other side in response. Muted vibrations softly rattled the wall, joining the mysterious vocalizations.

  Terrence’s eyes widened in horror… He and Nikki must have tumbled deep underground! The falling, the darkness, the rocks, the aches; it only made sense. With a determined but wobbly gait, he limped to the wall beside Nikki and added his calls with hers. The noises beyond the wall must have been a rescue team trying to reach them!

  “H-help! We’re stuck!” He scraped at the wall. More dampened rumbles, more voices. Still impossible to discern. Terrence pressed his ear against the granite. The voices were... high-pitched? And was that a metallic clamor? Terrence and Nikki persisted in their calls. More responses. Terrence’s ears perked up. He could’ve sworn he heard ‘Coming!’ Was it real? A tinge of relief washed over him and he stopped scratching.

  “Wait.” He put an arm in front of Nikki so she’d stop scratching and tiring herself out. She tried batting it away.

  “But Tewwy!”

  He stood between her and the wall. “They know we’re here already! Don’t you hear them?”

  Nikki wiped away some tears and listened. Her ears perked up. There it was… some kind of pounding beyond the wall! She held her paw flat against the wall and light tremors tickled it. She too couldn’t make out the voices, but it was unmistakable; those were voices. Mommy and daddy breaking down the wall to rescue them!

  “It’s them! It’s gotta be!” Terrence’s tail wagged. “Mom! Dad! It’s us! We’re okay!”

  Nikki loudly echoed his words, his enthusiasm convincing her they were going to be okay. The clamor grew louder. Vibrations rattled the wall more vehemently as the banging got closer. The voices…

  Terrence tilted his head in confusion.

  … Those weren’t voices. In fact… they weren’t even human or Pokemon. The noises grew louder. Closer. Stronger. Terrence’s heart beat faster. His ears drooped as he took wary steps back.

  Were those… robotic squawks?

  Chunks of granite and obsidian cascaded to the ground as whatever was on the other side closed the distance. Nikki stepped back just to avoid getting hit. She fidgeted excitedly; mommy and daddy were almost here! That noise? A giant drill they were using to break down the wall. Things like that existed in games Terrence played; she was thankful her parents managed to find one.

  “N-nikki,” Terrence’s voice shook as the ground rumbled. “I-I think… we should g-go…”

  BANG! BANG!

  A miniature rock slide sent pieces of wall crashing to the ground. A cloud of dust enveloped the Fennekins. Nikki yelped and hid behind her brother. Terrence stepped back, unable to see her and nearly knocking her over. They shut their eyes and held up their arms to stave off the dust. A shrill clamor resembling metal grating against metal made their blood run cold.

  SKREEEEEEE!

  The discordant squawk shook the chamber, sending more stones clattering to the ground.

  A massive, eagle-like head protruded from a newly-formed hole in the wall. Dark gray feathers, piercing, black eyes, and a pale, blood-stained black beak. It tore off chunks of wall with its mouth; the action producing a sound resembling gyrating gears and creaking hinges. It cawed again as its gaze met the petrified stares of the little foxes. It had two rows of upper and lower teeth. Metallic, sharp, curved inward, designed to make it impossible for prey to escape once in its jaws. It tore off another granite slab, revealing more of its dark gray frame. Feathery… and feline? It raised a lion-like foreleg and stepped over what little remained of the wall.

  The siblings screamed and darted away. No time to think.

  Run.

  -

  Ohara crouched behind a boulder and tried to stifle his panting with a tremulous hand. The sharp pain in his knees made that harder; it took stalwart will not to let out agonized gasps. That swarm of Ariados took him by surprise. Hunting him on Rutger’s behalf? No doubt, but how could they have known his location? His sudden panic made him leave his bag behind; not ideal when you were fleeing and wanted to leave no mark of your existence. They just missed seeing him, but would definitely identify the bag as his. His location would be narrowed down.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  … But if the escape route he planted was still active, his worries would be moot. So long as he made it to Earth, Rutger couldn’t do anything. He just needed the last of the Ariadoses to march away. Slyly, his right eye peeked from behind the boulder and through the dense shrubbery.

  Gone.

  Gingerly, and still clenching his teeth from the pain, he slipped away towards the chamber. Reticent prayers shot upward as he hobbled on. Salvation from Revaria was in arm’s reach… just have to endure a little more…

  Sharp screams in the distance paralyzed him. His ears perked up.

  Children!

  Another sound followed. Screeching, metallic, ear-piercing. His heart sank… A cyborg-gryphon on the hunt. Were it chasing him, he’d destroy it with Ice Beam, but it was chasing someone else. Someone who likely couldn’t fight back. Easy prey.

  An anxious thought emerged. Why was this child in this hostile environment and, moreso… how’d they get here? He could ask that question later. He deviated from his course and hurried toward the frantic pleas. Pain ricocheted throughout his body like lightning as he ran, but he shoved it aside. Save the children, return to the portal, make it to Earth, then rest.

  -

  Terrence’s legs strained as he bounded for a darkened cranny ahead. His mind wanted to convince him this was not real. A cyborg-gryphon was not chasing them. He and Nikki were not running for their lives. He would wake up and vow never to sleep again. The palpable terror surging through his nerves challenged his mental facade. He and his sister were not dreaming… they were quarry. A look over his shoulder compounded his horror.

  She was trailing further behind and her crying only made her an easier target.

  Iron stomps rattled the ground and scattered loose rocks. The eagle-lion ripped trees and boulders asunder with its beak as they got in the way. Snapped apart like toothpicks. Those yellow foxes were small, but were not for its own appetite. It intended them for its young. Snatch them up, digest them, regurgitate the breakfast for its hatchlings.

  The gryphon’s gaze narrowed on the younger sibling. Another metallic screech pierced the air, sending chills down the foxes’ spines. Nikki’s cries intensified; the shrill caw petrifying her in blood-curdling horror.

  “TEWWY!”

  A desperate idea materialized in Terrence’s mind. Brash, but worth a shot. He couldn’t let this happen to his sister. He dug his heels into the ground to correct his momentum and dart the other way. Ember would not be strong enough to defeat this monster, but if it deterred its pursuit, it’d buy them time.

  “Coming!” He shouted as he scurried towards her and the gryphon. The strongest fire he could muster welled up in his lungs. Wisps of smoke seeped through his nostrils as the bridled inferno waxed hotter. Once the beast was close enough, he’d release the conflagration in its face. Fire versus steel. It was the one advantage Terrence held over the chimera.

  Nikki was in too desperate a state to realize what he was doing. She scampered past him. The gryphon shifted its gaze to Terrence as he brazenly charged forward. Strange, but food offering itself up made hunting a little easier. Terrence opened his mouth to prepare the offense, revealing a vibrant orange glow emanating from the back of his throat. Almost time.

  Terrence skidded to a halt and stood his ground. He let more heat build up. More smoke. Denser and blacker. He winced from the mounting chest pain, but this had to be done.

  The gryphon bared its jaws. Rows of teeth prepared to shred its prey.

  The heat incensed.

  Sharpening chest pain.

  Closer. Closer…

  The smoke darkened more and more. Then, panic.

  It started blocking Terrence’s vision. He lost the encroaching beast through the thickening miasma and fiery radiance. How close was it? Attack now? Wait? Attack now? Wait? Atta-

  SKREEEEEEE!

  NOW!

  A searing blast erupted from his mouth. His eyes shut from the brightness of the resplendent blaze. A scream joined it; his lungs and throat were not accustomed to an offense of this magnitude. His insides burned. Agonized tears streamed down his cheeks as he expelled every last flame. He hoped it was hurting the gryphon more than it was hurting him.

  Another scream. Was it the gryphon’s? Terrence persisted. The inferno raged. More fire. More heat. Don’t let up. More fire. More heat. More. More. More… Terrence’s legs wobbled… Vision dimmed… everything quieted… Mind went blank... Nikki shouted his name from an unknown distance...

  He collapsed.

  Darkness.

  -

  “There… hold still…”

  A faint, unfamiliar voice. Terrence’s ears twitched. Stinging sensations in his throat and chest. Blurry dark-blue and magenta apparitions swirled about in an indiscernible pattern. Nikki whimpered some distance away. Was she okay? Was he okay? He rubbed his eyes and tried to foist himself up. Something planted itself on his torso and slowly nudged him down. Another sensation on the back of his head cushioned his contact with the ground.

  “You need to rest.”

  The voice was male, much older, and subdued, but blunt enough to be commanding. Terrence settled back down. The onset of a question hardly left his mouth before the voice answered.

  “Your vision’ll be blurry for a few minutes; it’s a side effect of the burn heal. You hurt yourself badly.”

  Terrence said nothing, letting his sight become acclimated to his new surroundings. The cavern ceiling became clearer as the adverse effect waned. Details morphed into existence with each blink.

  … Including the Weavile kneeling beside him.

  Terrence’s eyes widened. What was happening? Nikki smothered him with the warmest sisterly hug before he could ask.

  “You’re alife!” She beamed, tail wagging. “You’re-”

  The Weavile promptly cupped a paw over her mouth. “Shhh… remember?” He warned in a hushed tone. He quickly turned a prolonged gaze behind him as though making sure no one heard her.

  “Who-” Terrence began to ask when silenced again; not by a quieting paw, but the scenery. This had to be the same cavern he and Nikki were thrust into, except…

  Why were they huddled into this constricting space? Terrence realized he could make out individual ceiling cracks because they were barely three feet overhead. The Weavile stooped not just because he was watching Terrence, but because he had no room to stand up straight (he was three and-a-half feet tall). Were they hiding from the gryphon? Perhaps the mysterious mustelid found the perfect place the beast couldn’t reach them. He also had a brown, nondescript satchel by his feet. Bulky, partially zipped open, and likely too heavy should Terrence attempt to heave it.

  The Weavile turned his attention to Terrence. “Feeling better?”

  The fox nodded hesitantly.

  “Good.” The Weavile intoned. “Stay quiet for now.” He pivoted and peeked out from the nook’s entrance. “Need to make sure we’re in the clear before we leave.”

  Terrence stood and shook out his limbs. Pain was gone, but his nerves were clenched. “Uh… is, uh… the monster there?” He whispered. The Weavile shook his head and faced Terrence.

  “Dead… killed it before it could kill you.”

  Terrence’s eyes widened. The dearth of emotion in the Weavile’s words gave sincerity to this revelation.

  “Your fire’s too weak to kill it; had to use Blizzard, Afterward, I brought you here.”

  His deadpan delivery didn’t match the magnitude of the situation, but Terrence didn’t care. He and Nikki were alive.

  “Uh… thank you…” Terrence answered.

  The Weavile acknowledged his gratitude with a furrowed brow and slight scowl. “Don’t hurt yourself like that next time; making your fire that hot that quickly can permanently damage your lungs. You should’ve kept running.”

  Terrence’s ears drooped; he wasn’t the hero he thought he was. “… Won’t do it again, sorry.”

  “Just be glad you’re okay.” The Weavile said and looked outside again.

  In a maneuver that nearly made the children yelp, the Weavile grabbed them and placed them in the furthest corner.

  “Not a sound.” He ordered the staring, quivering foxes. He crept back to the nook’s entrance. More knee pain, but he bit his lip in restraint. He was twenty feet above ground in the side of a massive boulder. The five soldiers below weren’t looking up, but the slightest sneeze or cough would steal their attention.

  “He’s nearby,” a Lucario announced. “The damage on that gryphon’s corpse is unmistakable. Concentrate on this area; I’ll radio for backup.”

  The Weavile winced. That gryphon was showered in ice; may as well be a neon sign proclaiming his proximity. He was lucky they didn’t have heat-sensors, though most of the soldiers didn’t have them to begin with. Expensive investment. The alternative would’ve been to let the gryphon kill the foxes.

  He shuddered at the cruel thought.

  The Weavile kept the group in his periphery and the foxes kept silent. A confused Nikki whimpered under her breath and clutched her brother for protection. Terrence wallowed in a sea of questions. Where was he? Who were those people he couldn’t see? Why was the Weavile hiding? Was he hiding from those people? What even was his name?

  Were they going to see their parents again?

  Terrence held his breath under the sudden duress. Adventures like this were fun in video games. Staggering, dark caves, treasure, formidable foes, spying, mystery…

  Doing this in real life was more horrifying than fun.

  He should’ve stayed in the tent.