Onaga seems confused, reading the note on the little corkboard the rangers use for quests.

  ‘Quest’ continues to sound funny to me.

  God…s, I’m still tasting shame, doubt, contrition, fear… Just a lot from Espeon. I hadn’t even considered that not being here might make him start feeding back in his sleep again.

  And there’s another wave of contrition. No, it genuinely isn’t your fault, I’m with Onaga on this. It doesn’t take a genius to read between the lines with how he’s feeling and what Onaga was saying.

  Fuck anybody willing to do that to a person.

  It’s made me think of Marshal’s blasé attitude to killing in a new light, at least. I’d bet real money she knows what Onaga just said. About the way poachers treat pokemon they catch.

  “Were you near the coast last night?” Onaga asks, seemingly out of nowhere.

  Just to confirm, “Me?” I say, pointing at myself. She nods. “No…?”

  “Hmm. Need to confirm with…” She stops, blinking, “Fran. Fran was on overnight.” And, having said that, she walks out of the room.

  Back to my silent consumption of how Espeon’s feeling right now.

  Terrible. He feels terrible.

  A few moments pass before Espeon decides to… that’s a question. Entreatment mixed with something strangely tasteless.

  I have no idea what he’s asking for. After another second, I get… stillness.

  Oh, he’s asking me for my calming trick, but he’s so wound up he can’t send the feeling directly. Sure, I can do that, it’ll just take a moment.

  It’s a familiar set of actions now. Settle, calm, feel, release.

  And clarity washes over my perception.

  The near-immediate tastes of gratitude and relief are… well, they aren’t quite as good. And now he’s questioning why I’m disappointed. It’s because of ghost stuff. No, I don’t know why either.

  Holding empathic conversations continues to be fascinating. I’m fairly certain I’m missing a level of nuance, but it’s still doable. It’s almost like the less I think about it the more sense it makes. Like I get more meaning by simply not interpreting.

  That’s probably right. Although Espeon has the advantage of telepathy instead of just empathy.

  Hmm, confusion and a question.

  “I’m thinking about how we’re speaking psychically,” I inform the skinny cat.

  More confusion and now denial. Hmm, so we aren’t?

  “Is it that different?” Weaver asks from where she’s watching the hallway.

  “Yeah,” I say, echoing Espeon’s pulse of affirmation, “Imagine talking to someone, but the more you focus on what they’re saying the less comprehensible it becomes.”

  That statement gets even more confusion from Espeon.

  “That’s not how it is for you?” I ask him.

  He shakes his head, the tastes of denial, consideration, and understanding flowing over me.

  “Well, I suppose it might be because I’m not a psychic-type…” I muse.

  “Maybe. Makes as much sense as anything,” Weaver shrugs. “Hi, Katie.”

  Drifting away from Espeon for a moment to look down the hallway, I see–

  “Oh, she’s shitfaced,” I comment, moving back to Espeon. I’m a bit curious to see what would happen If he started taking on how drunk she is, but I’m not that much of an idiot.

  “Oh… Yourall out l– late. Ann glowy!” Katie slurs, making a decent effort to not tumble into the kitchenette with us, “But little fuzzy needs hissleep, you know.” She starts rifling through the cabinets, and I’m not sure she knows what she’s looking for.

  Wow. I can barely tell how she feels right now. There’s a definite level of happiness in there, a significant amount of exhaustion, a little confusion, but it’s mostly just a lot.

  “Should we do something about her?” I ask the room at large.

  “Probably. This happens pretty often.”

  Some uncertainty makes itself known.

  Neither of them makes any move to help.

  Very helpful, you two. Thanks. …I think I’ll extend my miasma, maybe try to shield Espeon a bit more. However, doing that shuts down any empathic conversation.

  Fortunately, someone responsible comes back in time to see Katie give up her search and slump into a chair.

  “Fun night?” Onaga asks, lips quirking slightly.

  “The bess. Wanned to make up for lost time,” Katie replies, not bothering to raise her head. “M’tired. Wha’s goin' on?”

  “Do you want to know, or do you want me to drag you to bed?”

  “I wanna know.” The drunk woman insists.

  Forget shitfaced, she’s wasted. I doubt she’ll remember this when she wakes up.

  “Well, Espeon had a nightmare–”

  “Aw. Poor baby!”

  Onaga continues, not acknowledging the interruption, “–So we’re up early. I just noticed a new quest that was posted overnight and talked to Fran about it. We got a call around oh-one-hundred from one of the local SOT people saying one of their guides couldn’t get a signal out west. So of course they ignored it, and it only got called in when they remembered.”

  “Lazy…”

  “Yep, but that’s not the best part,” Onaga says, shaking her head. “Apparently, the board’s showing a return, so Fran followed procedure and made a note instead of waking someone.”

  “hisnew…” I think she’s falling asleep.

  “That’s true, but he needs to know better. Anyway, that’s not even the reason they were trying to radio,” Onaga continues explaining, lowering and softening her voice as she notices the other woman has passed out. “Well, you’ll hear about it when you wake up.”

  The still-conscious of the two women glances at me, then Espeon. She raises an eyebrow.

  It’s probably safe to reel my miasma in. Oh, yeah, that’s a lot of emotional noise. There’s a lot less pouring out of Katie now, though. She’s out.

  Onaga quietly sighs, the taste of amusement filling the room before she seems to sober up, “Espeon, are you feeling better?” At his nod—and I assume psychic confirmation—she looks down at herself, still in pajamas, “A relay tower potentially being down is an issue,” She muses, obviously thinking.

  She shakes her head, “Right, Weaver, could you find a dodrio willing to ride? Make sure they know it will be a hard one.”

  “Of course,” Weaver says, demurely sweeping into a bow before sprinting out of the room.

  Onaga shifts her gaze to Espeon, staying on the cat for several seconds. She’s uncertain about something, my guess would be about leaving him here. “Misdreavus…” She slowly begins, locking on to me, “I want you to come along.”

  She’s anticipating something. Or perhaps I’m misinterpreting, anticipation could mean any number of things. “Sure,” I nod.

  I’m not sure what she was expecting, but the mix of guilt and confidence makes me think she’s reevaluating something.

  Onaga keeps watching me for several seconds, searching. There’s confidence and anticipation building. “…I still can’t read you,” She says after a moment, tastes vanishing as she glances at Katie. “Katie said she thinks you’re just looking for a place to be?”

  I suppose that’s not… inaccurate. I shrug, “kind of.”

  “But you think you’re unstable and have been hiding it from us.”

  What? “No…?” I rotate. Where did she get that?

  Again, I can taste her surprise and– Oh, that’s Espeon apologizing. Huh.

  Onaga frowns again before shaking her head and standing straight, “I know Espeon hasn’t lied to me, but I get the feeling you’re not, either…” She taps her fingers on the table, frustration pushing other flavors out before her normal self-control reasserts itself, “Does being here help? at all?”

  “Yes, I think so,” I nod. Especially after destroying my house.

  That seems to appease her, though I can still taste a level of frustration as she looks down and sighs, “Okay, we’ll need to check on that tower soon, and…” She trails off, pausing, “I think Katie had a lot right last night. I’m thinking of you incorrectly and you’re trying to stay a bit too far out of the way.” She looks back up at me, searching again, “I’m going to keep saying this until it sinks in. Please, bring any issues you have up to me. Or to any of the rangers here.”

  I nod again if only to reassure her. Onaga seems to accept that, glancing at Espeon and Katie one last time before walking out. Probably to change into her uniform.

  I really wish I could bring some things up, but… I don’t think that’s a conversation I want to have slowly translated on paper. Or to do in pantomime. I need to find out what I’m missing with illusions.

  I’ve seen one, I know what it should be like, and I can even make complex shapes now. I’m just missing something to make them… more, somehow. Why is it all contrast? And specifically, contrast in colors that I’m near certain humans can’t perceive?

  Hmm? Oh, that’s more thanks and apologies. It’s not an issue, Espeon…

  Wait, “…How well can you see this?” I ask, spinning up my best attempt at a pyramid.

  ***

  Onaga said it was a relay tower, but I’m not seeing anything like that. Granted, it’s still dark out, even if I can see the start of a glow on the horizon behind us.

  Night vision’s starting to lose its luster.

  Below me, Dodrio takes a rather straight line along one level of the cliffs, ignoring the paths and only turning to avoid other pokemon, sometimes leaping right over the small rivers and streams that crisscross this part of the forest.

  We’re officially outside of where I’ve explored, much farther west than I’ve wanted to go before.

  Seemingly out of nowhere, Dodrio slows down, so I descend to check on them.

  “–Test. Are you receiving?” Onaga asks. She listens to the static response for a few seconds before simply nodding and re-clipping the radio, “Fran might be green, but he’s still going to get a talking to about the difference between procedure and reality,” She mutters, taking stock of Weaver and I before spurring Dodrio back into motion.

  The trees are a bit thinner here. It’s still what I’d call a forest, just a little less dense.

  Wish I knew what we were looking for beyond just ‘a radio tower’ thing, but… how much more is there to say about it? There’s nothing else man-made around here.

  Damn, dodrio can run fast, but it is enjoyable to need to push my flight to the max. Although I don’t think I can say Onaga seems to be enjoying the speed as much. Of course, even if you love your job, needing to start early because someone else made a mistake isn’t pleasant. And being an understandable mistake never really makes it any better.

  Given what I was tasting when she was saddling Dodrio, I think she’s more annoyed at the timing than anything else.

  At the speed we’ve been going, fifteen minutes is quite a distance. It can’t be that much farther– And Onaga is slowing down again?

  Oh, that… that’s not as tall as I would have thought. And there aren’t even any visibility lights on it. It is about what I expected otherwise, though. A frame of metal struts sticking out just above the trees with a few antennas, an odd box-looking antenna, and two radio dishes.

  How is it getting enough power? I know there’s no way in hell those two solar panels could power it fully. Or… maybe I don’t. Might as well get closer since finding out why the thing isn’t working is why we’re here.

  Onaga’s already dismounted, inspecting the tower while pulling out the service manual she brought. After opening the thing to what I assume is an index, she grabs her radio, “Onaga Ryuko attempting comms test. Are you receiving?”

  Same as earlier, mostly static returns.

  So… the tower is still working, sort of. It’s just not broadcasting well? Onaga seems to be thinking the same thing, “So we do have a return,” She mutters, listening to the static as she frowns, “It’s probably something wrong with the board or power, then.”

  I drift next to Weaver as Onaga seems to slip into thought, “How common are radio issues, exactly?”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “Mmm… Every few months?” Weaver wiggles a clawed hand. “Most of the time it’s because of some pikachu or magnemite draining the power or latching onto an antenna.” We watch Onaga rub her eyes as she starts pulling a few tools out of her pack before Weaver speaks up again, “Normally Karlos handles the maintenance for the towers.”

  “Weaver…” Onaga trails off as she looks at us, then addresses me instead, “Misdreavus, could you open the transmitter box,” She says, pointing to the oddly large antenna on top of the small tower.

  “Sure,” I shrug, floating up to the thing before frowning. Two latches, designed for fingers. Why would you put the antenna in a box in the first place? Well, in any case, let's hope I don’t shear something off with this. Carefully squeezing the two latches with psychic force—nothing breaks, but it does creak a bit—the gray box swings open.

  Oh, those are… blue rocks. Huh. And they certainly aren’t there by accident, the wire I’m assuming is the antenna runs through and around them several times… Are the rocks flickering?

  I flinch slightly as the light level suddenly changes, and look down to see Onaga shining a flashlight up at the box while peering up at me. “Do you see any burns? Any cracks in the chargestones?” She calls. I shake my head and the woman speaks into her radio again, “Test. Test. Test.”

  Charge… stones? Well, why not? Onaga takes the flashlight off me as I hear static–

  I blink, staring at the now glowing stones, the light changing in time to the static in the radio response. Okay then, magic radio confirmed. Neat.

  Onaga hums before sighing, tucking the booklet back into her belt. Stretching, she walks up to the tower and starts climbing.

  It doesn’t take long before she settles herself by the main box, popping it open and holding the flashlight out to me. She seems to realize something, but as I take the flashlight and point it at the inside of the box it turns to surprise.

  “Thanks,” She says, pulling the booklet—which I can now see contains diagrams of circuits—back out before looking at the off-white board. “One of the Silph models…” She murmurs, searching through the pages.

  Honestly, the thing just looks like an oversized circuit board with a few knobs, relays, and fuses on it. Of course, I’d need to take a closer look at a diagram of it to know how it works, but it doesn’t seem that complicated. If those are signal out and those are signal in, then that’s power leading off to–

  Are those thunderstones? They look almost like green glass with jagged yellow streaks. I… that’s definitely the line to power…

  “Are you curious about the thunderstones?” Onaga asks, making me take my eyes off the thing.

  “…slightly,” I say, glancing back at the rocks—Gems?—for a moment, “What are they for?”

  She watches me for a second before going back to tracing over the diagram in her manual, “A thunderstone is one of the elemental stones, and striated thunderstones in particular are useful for electronics since they aren’t pure enough to cause evolution.”

  “Right…” I say, both wishing to be able to speak Sinnohan and once again questioning my understanding of the world. I suppose the best thing to do right now is to let the woman work.

  Onaga keeps referencing the little manual, turning the knobs and poking at the electronics with a voltmeter and pliers. “The tower’s going to need a new board,” The ranger declares after an unknown amount of time. “I don’t know what the real problem is, but I’m reading a lot less power than there should be heading to the transmit lines. I suppose I haven’t heard Karlos complain about them for a while.” The woman mutters before shaking her head, “Would you mind carrying this down once I take it out?” She asks me.

  I nod. As if I’d say no to something that simple.

  The electronics are, apparently, meant to be easy to swap, all Onaga has to do is take the thunderstones out, unscrew the wire terminals, and pull the whole assembly off its supports.

  Lowering the thing to the ground is truly laborious, requiring a whole thought to do so.

  Checking on Weaver since she’s been rather quiet, it turns out she decided to take a nap while we were up there. She’s curled up in a very catlike fashion against Dodrio, who is also two-thirds asleep, one head slowly grooming through their feathers.

  Am I jealous of the ability to nap? …Damn, I think I might be.

  “Time to get moving again,” Onaga calls over as she reaches the ground. “We need to get a new board, and we’ll be taking the Breeze Hill trail back for a quest. I assume you know the one?” She asks dodrio.

  “No, but I can guess,” Left Dodrio, the one currently awake, grouses as he wakes his… I still don’t know if I should say siblings.

  “It’s the big windy overhang that you can see most of the forest from,” Weaver says, making me freeze since I hadn’t noticed her getting up. Or getting so close to me. “She wants the path that skirts past the ocean.”

  “About what I thought,” Left Dodrio idly comments, craning his head around while the other two shake off sleep.

  “What was the quest?” I ask, glancing between Weaver and Onaga.

  “You saw the post on the board–” Weaver yawns, hopping onto Dodrio’s saddle, “–Don’t pretend you can’t remember it.”

  She’s right. Still, my comprehension isn’t that fast yet, and there are issues with uncommon words. Looking back, it was an organized note. Times and names were listed at the top before the ‘quest’ itself. What was it… Pokemon strangely moving and wrong sounds–’ No, that’s not right, hold on, ‘abnormal sounds at…’ That’s a phonetic name, and I recognize it, ‘Nabiki coast.’

  I know I got some of that wrong, but I understood most of it.

  I suppose that’s the minimum information needed, really. That must be why Onaga had asked if I’d been near the coast.

  Wish I could say I was surprised at the whole thing nearly being forgotten overnight, but I’ve done things like that before. It was all too easy to say I’d do something later and then forget about it. Probably one of the reasons we need to get the radio tower back up before the day really starts.

  ▲▲▲

  ▼▼▼

  Hoping for a calibration issue was too much, apparently. Gives me an easy chance to see how Misdreavus acts in the field again, though.

  It’s cold this morning, and the speed I had Dodrio running at didn’t help on the way over. We still need to move quickly, but now that I know there’s a problem and what it is, I’m a bit less urgent about it.

  We start circling Breeze Hill, the massive rock formation majestic from nearly every angle, jutting out and up from the end of the cliffs to look over the forest. After we round it, it’s easy to get back on a trail as the gently sloping side of the geological formation meets every step of the cliffs. We need to take a look at Nabiki, however, so we’re following it down to the lowest.

  After a few minutes of riding, I can only just make out the sand when I notice both Weaver and Misdreavus becoming alert. Great, really glad this didn’t get called in yesterday.

  Leaning back on my saddle’s horn, I bring Dodrio to a stop before dismounting. “What is it?” I ask, not really caring which pokemon answers.

  “Wea…” Weaver begins, hopping down herself and flicking her ears. She turns, not to me but to Misdreavus–

  They’re glowing. Well, they’re always glowing to some degree, but it’s normally their eyes putting out the most light. Right now, though, they’re looking around in… confusion. The normally somewhat dull gems hanging below their head are brighter than before.

  I’m about to ask them what’s going on before they retch, gagging on nothing as they turn a glare at Weaver.

  Weaver, who is currently smoking to burn off emotions. Interesting fact, but not important now that there’s a confirmed problem.

  A quick test of my radio confirms I’m still out of range of an operational tower. Not good, but that’s why we have emergency procedures.

  “How bad?” I ask Weaver, hoping she doesn’t–

  “Weavile,” She says, tapping her nose in the agreed gesture.

  Emergency ping it is. I extend the antenna on my radio to its full extent, pushing the beacon button until it gives way. There’s a buzzing sound, and my hand tingles for a moment before both stop. Well, the radio’s now a useless piece of scrap. I still clip it back to my belt.

  “Dodrio, maintain distance,” I order, knowing the ride pokemon will listen. “Weaver, Misdreavus, stay close.” I’m not sure what exactly is going on, but we have a duty to find out, and, if we can, fix it.

  Moving toward the ocean, nothing seems out of place. There’s no trace of the last wounded pokemon I saw here… There’s no trace of any pokemon.

  What’s more concerning? The lack of shellos that should be here, or the lack of any pokemon when the quest said they were acting strangely?

  “Vile wea weave,” Weaver says, and I look at her. She’s talking to Misdreavus, the ghost pokemon themselves seeming… distant.

  Misdreavus blinks, refocusing as they glance at Weaver and me. “Are you okay?” I ask. “If you need to leave, do it. I’d prefer it if you didn’t get hurt.”

  The ghost blinks again before rotating, expanding their mane out in a grand gesture and… chomping, “Mis mis misser.”

  I glance at Misdreavus’ gems for an instant, “Are you saying there’s a lot to eat, here?” That’s really the only thing that springs to mind with that display.

  They nod, looking around hesitantly, almost nervously. I… Should I order them away? They’re smart, they paid attention while I was telling them about certain procedures, but we haven’t done drills and I don’t know how they’ll handle what Weaver confirmed was an emergency.

  On that same note, they might be able to help if they’re currently eating the problem. I glance at Weaver, looking for her input.

  She gives me a slow blink back, tilting her head slightly before nodding. Misdreavus stays, then.

  We keep making our way to the beach. Reaching the sand, I still don’t see any pokemon. I do hear something, though.

  “Where’s that coming from?” I ask, looking around.

  It’s a low, unstable thrumming, more felt than heard, and it feels like it’s coming up through the sand.

  Weaver and Misdreavus are both looking around. Weaver makes a low sound of her own as I see her start narrowing in on… the tidal cave. At least it’s at lower tide right now.

  “Is that a pokemon?”

  Weaver vehemently shakes her head before moving toward the cave mouth. She’s acting… the same way as at the academy. Full dark-type emotional suppression. That makes sense of what Misdreavus is doing, too. Weaver had communicated that there’d been overwhelming fear and anger in the air then.

  And now here. “Weaver.” The weavile stops cold, looking back at me. “Is this the same as the academy?”

  Weaver remains still for a second before nodding and equivocating, “Vile. Weavile weave.”

  Is it a smart idea to get closer? At least one more ranger should be on the way, but, given the time, that could take anywhere from ten to thirty minutes depending on preparedness.

  I’m not sure I like the idea of leaving this that long, now that I know about it.

  The lack of pokemon around is the deciding factor for me. “Misdreavus, ahead. Weaver, behind. Move slowly,” I say. “Misdreavus, no matter what happens, don’t use sound. Your first response should be shielding, understood?”

  The floating pokemon nods, although they seem distracted.

  Hoisting my flashlight and falling into formation, we cautiously move into the cave. The sound grows more present until I can finally make out what it is.

  A generator. A big one. Someone is making power with an old petroleum-fired generator, but why? How and when did it and whatever it’s powering get here? Is it the smugglers again? They did have a boat moored here… Although I’m certain Holt would have checked the cave out when she was dealing with that.

  The Nabiki Tidal Cave isn’t all that large, or rather, long. Yet it’s a genuinely interesting location, housing zubat—like most caves—alongside shellos, gastrodon during spawning season, sometimes a squirtle or two, geodude, and often nosepass. The only reason it’s not a more popular tourist spot is that the union put its collective foot down on letting so many people in.

  It’s not even dangerous, simply an important spot for the pokemon that live in it. The big invertebrates are generally the most aggressive thing in here, and they take a lot of poking to become violent, while everything else will either harass humans for food at worst, or merely ignore them.

  Once we round the first bend, my thoughts come to a halt, heart dropping.

  There weren’t any pokemon outside, but inside? The small colony of shellos I lay eyes on are all… unmoving. Their eyes are unfocused, with clear signs of dehydration on those outside of the many pools, seemingly rooted in place. A few even have some unhealthy-looking dark sections inside what should be bright patterns.

  Looking up, the zubat are all eerily still for their species as well, not even a twitch from any ears. I don’t see as many as I’d expect either. Only six hanging from the rock above us.

  If this is the same situation as Tangrowth was, trying the RED is going to be too much effort for now. And extremely dangerous, besides.

  My partners are silent as we make our way deeper, navigating around the water-filled, colorful pools. I eventually stop needing my flashlight as Misdreavus keeps growing brighter, the ghost starting to twitch, obviously uncomfortable about the situation.

  I have to agree. Most of the other rangers at the academy incident had said their partners became unresponsive, and then fearful once that passed. Neither of the two with me are acting that way, but I suspect it has to do with their typings.

  Not a good picture, given what I know of them.

  I haven’t seen any geodude or nosepass, though I assume their first reaction to whatever this is would be to bury themselves or increase their disguises.

  We finally come across something telling as we near the end of the cave system. A barricade. And I can both hear and smell the generator behind it. The barricade covers the whole entrance, a plywood sheet with metal anchors meant mostly to deter rather than to actually stop anything. I give my partners a look before throwing my shoulder against the false wall.

  It gives way with a crunch of metal and splintering sound as we move into the chamber beyond.

  The fumes hit me first, and I stumble back out, coughing as I pull my undershirt over my nose. Peering into the room again, I don’t recognize what the machine is, which is only somewhat surprising given that I was expecting two things, not one.

  It’s… Big and red. Sort of conical, in fact. A round, pillar-like device with some form of bulbous metal shielding and four sturdy legs keeping the bulk of it above where the water level should reach. On closer inspection, it might even simply be two different things bolted together.

  It also, for some reason, seems to lack any sort of control method. From this side, at least. All I can see is a pull cord sticking out of the bottom part of the machine.

  Since I’m nearly certain this is what’s causing everything, there’s truly only one course of action to take. “Break it,” I croak at my two partners.

  ▲▲▲

  ▼▼▼

  That… Yeah, that… That’s a good idea, yes.

  It’s so tasty though.

  “U– Um, how?” I ask, glancing at Weaver.

  I try not to react as two pairs of eyes lock onto me, but this whole situation is freaking me the fuck out. And it really, really doesn’t help that I’m starting to feel good. Have I still not been eating enough? Or is this just what eating this much feels like?

  Weaver—emotionless—turns her eyes back on the source of the most delicious– the thing. Almost casually, she flows into the chamber with it, rotating in a slashing motion as more of her foul-tasting power reaches me.

  Okay, that’s actually helping right now. It’s like being forced to come down from a buzz. Or a high.

  Hopefully a bit more sober, I watch the icy cat’s claws deflect off the round surface of whatever the thing is, the shadowy power behind the slash warping and bending away from it. Cool, cool.

  Not at all worrying that Onaga looks shocked at that. Weaver’s own expression remains as blank as it has since she started removing her emotions for safety.

  What’s a good way to ruin an engine? Dumping the fuel would stop it, but I don’t see the fill cap anywhere. Filling the intake with salt-water would work too, but I can’t see where that is either.

  How the hell is a machine producing emotions in the first place? Weaver’s told me the rangers have things to broadcast their emotions, I’ve seen them, but whatever this is it’s making terror, pain, fear, and the brand new taste of horror. And even better, it’s both making a lot of them and making them all taste absolutely wonderful.

  Weaver straightens, then brings a hand around in a knife-like strike with the side. The bang produced by the impact echoes for several seconds even as we remain quiet. Like with her slash, all the energy she’d loaded into it unraveled before the blow struck home. Although I’m not sure if that’s more concerning than the fact that the thing didn’t even budge.

  “I… Let me try something,” I say, causing the others to glance at me again.

  Weaver backs off without a word. Onaga gives me a raised eyebrow, but I think she gets the idea.

  Okay, Charlie, focus. Calm. What do I have that’s both destructive and won't hurt anyone by simple proximity? I could try something psychic, and–

  Nope. The field keeps being torn apart before it can truly form.

  What else? Hmm, Ghost stuff eats away at anything it touches, but will it also unravel in the same way everything else has? There’s the eye-beam thing I can do…

  One thing at a time, me. Let’s try the less destructive one first. At the very least, eating so much has me full of enough energy that it’s practically begging to be used.

  I move my power, letting my eyes fall on the device as something bends within the world–

  Oh, okay, not unraveling then. Whatever this is, it’s distorting the energy around the machine enough to… huh.

  I guess when I was first testing this I cut it off before the effect really got started. I’d think I was partially in the unreal if I couldn’t still see the normal world in my peripheral vision. Beyond that, the fire-like, ____ and purple flames appearing everywhere around the machine are new. I… think those are flaring up wherever the emotions the bizarre machine is spitting out are. Huh.

  And speaking of, the machine is visibly warping, but not in any normal–

  OW! FUCK!

  I need to close my eyes at the blast as something inside the thing explodes. That… That was bright, both the fireball and whatever that flash in the unreal had been. It was fucking loud too.

  I– Almost looked around while my eyes were still doing shit. Carefully making sure to cut the flow of power to my eyes before opening them, I blink some stars away as I look around. The tastes are… I think tapering off now, so I can confirm the blast killed the classically sci-fi-looking device.

  Mmm, Onaga has her hands on her ears. Probably temporarily deaf from the noise. Weaver… I think she was a bit more sensitive to it. Strangely, I’m mostly fine. I think because I don’t have ears in the same way they do.

  My body remains a mystery. I still don’t know where my nose–

  A shriek cuts off my thoughts. Thankfully, it also reminds me we aren’t quite in the clear yet. There’s also a problem, Weaver looks disoriented and Onaga evidently can’t hear anything.

  Shit. Guess I’m the guard.

  Looking around the small space we’re in. There’s only one way for anything to come from, so I only need to watch one area.

  I’m a bit concerned at the confusion I can taste, but at least it’s not anger.

  What do I mean by this? Who knows! Could be anything.

  Discord now, invite: GngzfTAFj6, and I genuinely hope to see people there. I enjoy receiving interaction, speculation, and questions.