[Jubilife Pokémon Centre...]
Cynthia was awoken from her slumber with a booming noise from outside, and a loud chatter racing past her room. What was going on? She thought to herself, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
Gible seemed to hear the commotion too, pulling herself up from the floor. "Gib?" Her partner asked. "I-I don't know..." The voices outside her room seemed scared and confused.
A quick glimpse at the room's clock told her that it was one in the morning, the dead of night.
What could've possibly been going on at such an hour to cause such an upset?
Wearing only her pyjamas she anxiously left her room, Gible waddling after her. Her eyes fell upon the room next to her, where [Y/N] was supposed to be staying, but she had never heard him return that night. Rather, it looked like the door hadn't even been interacted with at all.
Cynthia grew slightly more worried but ignored the negative thoughts for now, [Y/N] was probably fine, he was smart and knew how to get himself out of any situation, she was sure!
"Cynthia, the fighting woke you up too?" A familiar voice called out to her from the end of the corridor and she quickly found her new travelling companions, Lucian and Flint, racing down the hall towards her. "I just got up, what's wrong?"
Flint seemed full of energy, pumped up for some reason. "It's crazy! Nobody's really sure but the news are sayin' it's all gone to shit in East Jubilife, full on warzone!" Cynthia closed her eyes, not sure she heard what he said correctly. "He's speaking the truth..." Lucian nodded, a seriousness to his look, and he gestured for her to follow. "Apparently there is a live-broadcast going on right now, we were going to see what all the ruckus was about."
She threw one more glance towards [Y/N]'s room, Flint's word making her slightly more nervous. Now she had to know what was going on. "Alright, let's go." Cynthia nodded and the three trainers made their way down to the lower lounge area...
"--Breaking news, Jubilife City! There's a war on the streets as our own Elite Four, Silas and Argenta, alongside the International Police, face off against Team Rocket! Information is still scarce but from our sources, we understand this to be an impromptu raid on the criminal organisation's seat of power in the region. Exclusive footage of the events from up high coming to you all now! --" There must have been nearly a hundred people, all trainers of varying ages, gathered around the television, watching entire neighbourhoods go up in flames, buildings charred and leaking smoke, streets destroyed and torn apart.
"W-When did all of this start?" Cynthia stuttered out, still trying to register everything that was going on, and once more, [Y/N] was nowhere to be seen. "We only got up a little earlier than you, maybe half-an-hour, something like that." Flint said, hands firmly dug into his baggy pants. Another explosion rocked the street on the television screen, this wasn't just some small skirmish, this was two Elite Four members in action, and their enemy had to number in the hundreds at least...
"W-Why is this happening?" A trainer mumbled out amongst the crowd, watching on with sheer and unadulterated terror. "T-This is crazy!" Another said, with a similar face, and quickly the entire crowd was muttering their own small piece. They were trying to become trainers, but if that entailed fighting against people like Team Rocket, then maybe becoming a trainer wasn't what they wanted. It wasn't just some fun adventure, it was life and death. And, this didn't go unnoticed by Cynthia, Lucian and Flint, who stood towards the back.
"They are terrified." Lucian said with a stern look. "It is so obvious. They see all this on the news and their confidence is shaken completely." He pushed up his glasses. Flint shook his head. "If they're scared off so easily then maybe they ain't supposed to be trainers in the first place, you get what I'm sayin'?" He said. However, Sinnoh wasn't in the position to be simply allowing trainers to leave the profession, with constant dwindling numbers, they needed more trainers!
With this incident, young people all around the region were sure to rethink whether or not they really wanted to become trainers. Even if they won here today, this would have consequences that far extended beyond just Jubilife...
Yet, Cynthia still had one nagging question on her mind, one that she simply couldn't ignore for very much longer. "Neither one of you has seen [Y/N] have you?"
====================
[Eastern Jubilife...]
"Finally, an exit!" Sycamore said aloud, coming upon a lone door on the other side of the warehouse, they had been running for a while without coming across a suitable place to get all the injured Pokémon out. The explosions and crashes behind them and outside made him anxious, and he worried about how [Y/N] was handling the Rocket Elite. He hadn't seen the young trainer in a while, not a single sign of him. And yet, thinking the worst immediately didn't help anyone, and his job was getting the injured captives to safety...
He yanked the door open and peered out, looking left and right, only for a scary armoured group of men to appear before him, with tinted goggles and police badges, special response forces. "Stop where you are! Hands up! Under the jurisdiction of the International Police you are under arrest!" A figure at the front barked at him. "Merde..." Sycamore mumbled. "I'm innocent! He said, raising both arms high in the air, gesturing towards the Pokémon with his eyes. "I was tracking down the recent thefts and rescued them from a secret lab, they're in a terrible condition, they all need immediate medical attention!"
The police mumbled amongst themselves before another man entered the conversation. "Looker, what's the call?" He appeared to be the highest-ranking detective here. "Even if he's guilty those Pokémon need help, call in a few ambulances, and get the Pokémon Centre ready for a long night..." Looker then pointed towards the suspicious man. "You, what's your name?"
"Sycamore, I'm a researcher from Kalos, I swear!" Looker raised his brow. "What's a researcher from Kalos doing in a slum like this? --" However, he didn't have much time to ask his question. "Je suis désolé, but there was a young trainer and a clown who came in with me, have they been found?" Sycamore cut in, concern in his voice and written all over his face. "Hmm, have you got their names?" The detective asked him as the wounded Pokémon were being taken one at a time by the police. "The trainer's name was [Y/N], he mustn't have been older than eighteen at most..."
"[Y/N], huh?" Now where had Looker heard that name from? It was then that he remembered back to a few hours earlier, when the two kids came poking about asking for the Pokétch President. He was the more realistic one of the two, and they spoke for a while afterwards. What was he doing around here though? "I'm afraid not, as you can see..." And he gestured towards the entire area behind them, where fighting was still going on back and forth, even with a quickly reducing number of Rocket grunts. "We haven't been able to enter the warehouse, an Elite Four member's fighting, and we can't guarantee we won't be caught in the crossfire."
Sycamore clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Please, you've got to make sure he makes it out safe, we wouldn't have escaped if he didn't distract the Rocket Elite. And there's this also..." He turned towards the bag at his waist and pulled out one of the fake Pokétch devices. "There were hundreds of these stored in the warehouse, but I'm sure most of them are now destroyed from the fighting." Looker accepted it and gave it a quick scan. Sycamore then showed him the pictures he took. "Surely this can prove the President's innocence, oui?"
Looker shook his head, unable to keep a smirk from showing through, as another large explosion rocked the street behind them. "Yeah, I think this'll work just fine, let's get you seen by someone alright?" Sycamore wanted to refuse but then again they probably wanted him for further questioning, and he relented. However, he was more concerned about how his friends were, [Y/N], and that clown, Bonzo. Had they gotten out alright, or had something else happened to them? He wouldn't know until the whole affair had ended...
"H-Hey! I need a doctor over here!" A voice called from the exit Sycamore just came from, as a small horde of armoured police rushed out, helping two figures out. The first looked close to death, their white face-paint bloodied, and their once brightly-coloured clothing in tatters. It was Bonzo, and Sycamore jumped up to see how he was, but the clown was rushed away far too quickly. He didn't look well at all, and he questioned whether a doctor would even be able to help him now.
Another few police officers followed and this time they were accompanied by a young trainer, the trainer that Sycamore had been hoping to see this entire time. "[Y/N], mon ami!" He shouted out, racing to greet his friend, who appeared far more aware. "S-Sycamore? You got the Pokémon out, right?" He got in response, solely focused still upon the stolen Pokémon.
"Oui, oui, and it is all thanks to you!" Sycamore said, as the two police officers sat him down. [Y/N] tried to recover his breath, his squad of four surrounding him, but they didn't look so happy, all with concerned faces. "A-And Bonzo?" He mumbled, wincing like he was in pain. The researcher nodded again. "He came out just before you, Bonzo's being looked at right now. Are you alright?" Sycamore asked, raising a suspicious brow. "O-Oh, yeah, I think..."
"N-No actually, I feel bad, really bad..." [Y/N] corrected himself. It was only then that Sycamore's eyes started to drift, slowly drifting down until they came across the trainer's leg, one which was badly bloodied and wounded, his trousers torn completely revealing flesh. "What?! You need to see a doctor!" He cried out, grabbing the boy's shoulders. However, [Y/N] calmed him down, his breathing growing slower and more sharp. "I-It's fine, just got caught in the crossfire a bit."
"N-Nothin' to worry about, as long as everyone else is alright..." He let out, before collapsing forward into Sycamore's chest, who caught him.
"[Y/N]? [Y/N]?!" Sycamore shouted, growing more frantic. The wound coupled with all the energy expended carrying Bonzo along with him must have been too much of a shock to his system. It was a surprise he was even able to make it as far as he did. A field-medic raced over and together they brought him to a makeshift bed, alongside the clown. [Y/N] continued to drift into and out of consciousness, his eyes opening and closing repeatedly, almost as if he were battling off the darkness that assaulted his vision. Sycamore hung above him, trying his hardest to show a confident smile, but his nerves were showing despite how hard he tried.
And, eventually, even [Y/N] couldn't withstand all the stress and the blood loss, and he surrendered to the void, allowing himself to be overtaken by sleep...
====================
[An Hour Later, Jubilife Hospital]
Looker took a drag on another cigarette, one of a countless number that he had gone through that night alone, but it was necessary, how else could he be able to cope with everything that had gone on around them, almost as if it were completely out of their control. He stood outside the local hospital, a large modern building that stretched off high into the sky. Bodies came in, one after the other line a queue, and ambulances blared their sirens, the lurid lights dancing across his vision, forcing him to shield himself.
"Looker, that kid you wanted to hear about, he's come too!" An officer raced up to him. Looker nodded back, and turned back towards the hospital making his way inside , but not before flinging his cigarette to the floor and stamping it out dead, the last smoulders disappearing.
There were many wounded police officers and detectives that were being treated from their injuries received during the fighting. However, who he was looking for wasn't a part of the International Police or the local precinct. His destination was up a few flights of stairs, but the elevator cut the time in half. Looker hated the music it played, making everything seem fine and calm. The pristine white walls contrasted sharply with the chaos outside, the destruction, all of it. What a mess it all was, and all the paperwork! He didn't even want to think about that.
And yet, as Looker rounded a corner, he spied another figure standing outside the room he was moving towards...
"Silas, what are you doing here?" The stoic Elite Four member stood with his arms folded. "Argenta is finishing up, I have only heard part of the story so far. Tyson fled while he still could, we don't know where he's gone but there is a slim chance that we can find him now. The remaining grunts are being pursued as we speak though a few have managed to escape into Route 203, towards Oreburgh. The situation has stabilised at least." That was some good news, but it didn't mean much considering the sheer panic that had been caused by the urban warfare.
The major fighting may have stopped but the scars remained, and scars weren't so easily concealed.
"I got a feeling, telling me to come here. I'm just following up on something, call me intrigued." Silas continued, opening one stern eye that stared back at the detective. His younger brother, Riley, soon appeared once again, with both Riolu and Lucario with him, and he whispered something into the Elite Four member's ear, too quiet for Looker to overhear. He pressed onwards, followed by the two, as he pulled the room's door open, moving inside. A beep registered every few moments from a monitor, steady. And there was a clinical smell that assaulted the nostrils...
Looker turned towards the large bed in the room's centre, the trainer he was after it's current resident, with that Kalosian researcher sitting over him, watching nervously. "Perhaps leave your partners here for the time being." He suggested. Silas didn't listen and marched onwards, his enormous black Lucario following as always. It was worth an attempt.
"[Y/N], you imbécile! Don't get up yet, the doctor told you to stay put!" Sycamore put sternly, trying to hold the boy down, but the young trainer seemed to resist. "N-Not until I know there isn't a hospital fee, or else I'm gone! I-I'll be damned if they make me stay any longer, d'you how much they make you pay for even an ambulance ride?! I-I don't have health insurance! I-I'd have to sell my organs to make up for the debt!" His four Pokémon sat nearby, silently watching, caution etched on their faces, careful for any threats that may appear considering their trainer's condition. "Your entire leg nearly came off! Just be quiet already, settle down!" They bickered back and forth like some old friends.
"Well, well, you seem rather lively after what happened..." A familiar voice said. "How are you feelin', kid?" Looker asked, appearing before the two, accompanied by one of the region's Elite Four, sending Sycamore into shock. "I feel like shit." [Y/N] said bluntly, earning a small chuckle.
"That's good. It'd be worse if you didn't feel anything." Looker responded. "Oh yeah, you want to try some then, smart guy?" [Y/N] shouted back, unable to see much humour in the situation. "Cool it, kid. I'm glad you're alright, a lot more Pokémon could've died if it wasn't for you. And you've proven the Pokétch President's innocence. He gave me these to give to you and your little girlfriend by the way." He said, and from his coat Looker plopped two small packages on the side table by the medical bed, tightly wrapped and held in a protective box.
Their Pokétch devices, [Y/N] assumed.
However, something about what the detective said caught his attention. "More?" [Y/N] asked. "What d'you mean, 'more'?". Looker winced, realising that he had been caught out. "They're all being looked after at the Pokémon Centre, though I'm afraid that some of them couldn't make it, sorry to say. Their injuries were just too severe, infections, malnourishment, no will to keep living, not even Nurse Joy could do anything to fix that. Whatever they went through, it must've been hell..."
[Y/N] looked back with some anger, some sadness, and some disappointment. Had it been something he had done wrong maybe, or was it simply how the events played out, something beyond his to really change? It didn't matter either way, the guilt still hung over him nonetheless. "O-Oh." Was all he could muster, losing some of his energy.
Looker had more bad news.
"I think it'd be best to tell you this now. You're clown friend, Bonzo, right? He didn't make it either, unfortunately..."
[Y/N] wasn't entirely sure what to say to that. The Pokémon he could understand, even though he knew that some of them were on death's doorstep, he maintained a brave face, both for them and for himself. Bonzo? Not Bonzo.
Sycamore looked down too, head hung low, sharing in the grief. He had promised to tell the clown all about Kalos and its wonders for helping them, but now that would never be.
[Y/N] had a somewhat different reaction, less sadness and more just pure frustration. The Pokémon and now Bonzo? What was the point of it all?! Despite how hard he tried it seemed useless! It was like whatever he did didn't even really matter in the end. Especially Bonzo. He pulled that man from a fight none of them should've had any right escaping, and dragged him across the entire warehouse with a broken leg, and in the end what did it get them?
"Did you get the leader at least..." [Y/N] asked, hair covering his expression, making it hard exactly what he was thinking. "Tyson, that bastard, that's what his name was. Tell me you got him, right?" He clutched the blanket tight, his hand practically shaking with rage.
"No. He got away. Argenta tried her best but he pulled some cheap trick, got the better of her." Looker answered solemnly, but he thought it best not to hide information. The kid had to know sooner or later...
They both hadn't even known the clown for all that long, a couple hours at most, maybe? He didn't deserve death, not at all, even if he did hand out a fake Pokétch or two. Bonzo wasn't a bad person, he didn't want to do those things, he was coerced into it!
"Your name is [Y/N], correct." Silas stepped forward breaking through the tension, staring down the hospitalised trainer with a steely gaze, his brother watching on from the side-lines. "What of it?" [Y/N] asked back, not really bothered about the man questioning him, far too focused upon the sudden death he had just been told about. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, and, if you wouldn't mind..." He flashed him a strange look, and suddenly, one of Silas' eyes changed a strange blue colour, surprising all in attendance besides Looker, who had grown used to it by now. "Look me in the eye when you answer."
[Y/N] squinted back, confused. "Huh, why? What's wrong with your eye?" He asked. Silas shook his head. "It would help me out a lot, and I would appreciate your cooperation. They say the eyes are the window to the soul. You can learn a lot from them." It wasn't like he could argue with an Elite Four member, and he gave in, too tired to resist. "Fine, what d'you want to know?"
"Where are you from?" Silas asked. [Y/N] shrugged. "No clue." The Elite Four member raised a suspicious brow. "You don't know?" He nodded. "No. I've got amnesia. I woke up around Sandgem Town just over a week ago. Rowan took me in, let me become a trainer." There was an uncomfortable silence as the room listened intently. "Is that so?" Silas said aloud, staring back. The blue glaze over his eye seemed to shift and sway, like uncertain waves in the ocean, morphing and forming strange shapes, before settling down and returning to a placid calm.
He seemed content with the answer, but [Y/N] felt strange, like a shiver running down his spine as he answered, just from holding the Elite's eye contact. Don't react. A voice suddenly spoke to him, but not out loud, but rather inside his head. He looked around cautiously before noticing Silas' eyes were still honed in on him. Was it him speaking to him, but how was that possible? The world around them grew grey and bland, losing its colour and life, and the faces of the men around them grounded to a halt, almost like they were puppets.
The only people who remained active were himself, Silas and Riley, their Pokémon included.
It reminded him of that night when the Hunters raided Rowan's laboratory, when he had that strange experience with his Pokémon, something he had simply dismissed, some group hysteria maybe, but nothing more...
Yes, it is me speaking to you. Do not be concerned, I am just being careful. You never know what prying ears are about. Silas spoke to him. [Y/N] wasn't entirely sure how he was supposed to respond, but perhaps just thinking mentally would work. How are you doing this? I don't like fortune tellers! He thought.
I'm not some practitioner of cheap tricks, refrain from calling me fortune teller. He groaned before continuing. You will learn all in good time, but first, I have another question for you. Sycamore threw a glance towards Looker, confused as to what was going on before them. "Don't worry, he does this sometimes." The detective told him, waving it off. "It's like some magic trick he does, nothin' special."
What do you know about the concept of Aura? [Y/N] looked confused. Like chakras? I'm not really into horoscopes and astrology, I'll be honest, but you do you-- Silas cut him off, correcting him one again. No, no, nothing to do with astrology, Aura. It is a fundamental force that inhabits every living being, be them human or Pokémon. It flows like a web, connecting every living lifeform, and even the dead. Imagine it like a meandering river that flows through everything...
It has a wide range of utilisations beyond that connection. Those who can manipulate Aura hold the potential to converse with the dead, telepathy, create offensive attacks, or form defensive barriers. It is truly an incredible ability if mastered correctly, but only a select few today can wield such a power.
I believe, [Y/N], that you may be a part of that select few people. [Y/N] looked back at him with scepticism, sure, Pokémon could do amazing things, and they were communicating mentally, but it was starting to border further and further on the fantastical. You don't believe me, I see. How would you explain the reason why Pokémon are so open to your suggestions then, no normal person can persuade a group of enslaved experiments to simply follow along, and trust a human no less. How would you explain that? [Y/N] felt the hairs rise up atop his arms, as Silas recounted events from his memory, how the hell did he know anything about that, unless...
My charming personality. [Y/N] answered dryly. This is serious, very serious. And, if you don't take it seriously then it may very well have disastrous consequences. Silas responded. Fine, fine, whatever. If I do have this Aura thing, how do you know, answer me that! The Elite Four member mentally groaned, already growing tired of the trainer's inability to believe, his refusal to budge even the slightest. The very fact that we are speaking right now proves my point. Only those who can wield Aura can do such a thing. If not, you would not be able to communicate back, only listen. That made some sense, he guessed, though he wasn't sure how any of this worked.
So what? [Y/N] asked, genuinely curious. It means a great deal. He responded. Aura Guardians, people with the ability to wield Aura, have gone virtually extinct. My brother and I alone are the only Aura Guardians left in Sinnoh, and maybe even the entire world itself, though I of course could never rightfully confirm that. To come across another person with the blood of an Aura Guardian after so many years of travel, you can imagine what a shock that is to me...
And yet, you don't remember anything, you have amnesia. It is a peculiar situation. Silas explained, his steely gaze becoming harder and harder to hold.
Alright, let's say that I did believe you about all this, what then? You want me to become some monk up in the mountains or something? [Y/N] asked. No, no, nothing like that. However, I eventually would want to train you personally. There are far too few Aura Guardians in the world for me to let you go free. Your abilities are too rare for that. Yet, I'm afraid it is currently impossible. Silas told him. Huh, how come? He responded. While you do show the ability to use Aura, your own Aura is still quite weak. If I did not initiate this conversation then I doubt you would have been able to speak to me mentally. To manipulate Aura you must first have a sizable amount of Aura, if that makes sense...
And, with the issues plaguing Sinnoh, my time is a valuable commodity. Training a new disciple would prevent me from conducting my duties as a member of the Elite Four, and that is something I cannot compromise.
How do I get more Aura then? Press-ups? Good hygiene? Bending spoons? [Y/N] went through a few stupid options. No, actually, you are already doing as much as you can to build your Aura. The trust you have in your Pokémon, and the synergy you have, will gradually increase the Aura that shadows you. Aura is nothing more than the connections between beings, and the stronger your connections are, the stronger your Aura becomes, in simple terms. Continue with this, as you have, and before long I am sure you could begin to learn the basics of Aura manipulation, is that understood?
[Y/N] contemplated it for a moment, but there didn't seem to be many drawbacks. Having magic powers seemed worth it, and he would get trained by one of the two only magic users left in the entire world? He would have been a fool to turn it down! Deal. This better not be one of those devil contracts though, you're not gettin' my soul, not over my dead body!
Silas shook his head and suddenly the blue glaze that had once coated his eye vanished, and the world around them seemed to grow a lot louder, and more colourful too. "We are done here. Canalave needs us. I will be sure to speak with you soon. Remember what I said." And with that Silas walked away without a second look, his Lucario right behind. Riley waited a second, throwing a glance towards [Y/N]. "Even if you think the work you put in was for nothing, know that many Pokemon wouldn't have made it much longer without your intervention. Keep that in mind."
[Y/N] sat there in the hospital bed, unsure what even just happened, as the two brothers funnelled out of the room. "They're a weird family, but good people. I trust them." Looker said, before checking the watch on his arm. "Shit, I've got to check in with my boss, he's going to be livid. Talk another time!" And, in a sudden rush, Looker raced out of the hospital room, barrelling down the hallway. Sycamore shot him a look. "Get some rest, alright? You deserve it..."
"And, merci, mon ami, for putting your own life on the line for all of us. I won't forget it, truly."