Act 3: Chapter 13 |
By the time the sun begins to rise the morning after the brawl at the Weather Institute, Lee has already been staring at the bunk bed above him for an hour.
‘I guess it was dumb to think that Aqua wouldn’t be pulling something soon.’ He lets out a little huff, careful not to wake the fox against his side. ‘Just like last time, Ash was nowhere to be seen. Is that what Giratina was talking about? Are things not lining up right for Ash to save the day?’
Among such thoughts, others bounce around his skull, all of them relating to last night.
The return to the hotel had been a blur of flashing cameras and shouted questions when the police line finally loosened. Reporters materialized out of nowhere despite the late hour, lighting up the darkness with camera flashes and microphone booms shoved toward anyone who looked official. Lee kept his head down, Ninetales pressed close, and they followed Steven's Steel-type honor guard through the chaos without saying a word.
Brendan looked ready to drop where he stood. Zinnia's earlier fire had burned down to sullen embers. Even Corviknight, usually so proud, had tucked his head low against the rain.
By the time they made it back to their room in Rubello, Lee's clothes had soaked through twice over. He pushed open the door to find the lights already dimmed and Lokoko curled beneath the covers of her bed, her breathing slow and even. She didn't stir as they shuffled in, tracking water across the carpet.
Hot showers helped. Fresh clothes helped more. By the time Lee finally crawled into his bunk, his eyelids were heavy and his limbs felt like they'd been filled with wet sand.
Sleep should have come easy.
It didn't.
'What is it?' he asked himself, staring at the slats of the bunk above him. 'We won. Everyone got out safe. The storm stopped. So why does it feel like I screwed up?'
No answer came. Eventually, exhaustion dragged him under anyway.
When he woke, the gray light of early morning filtering through the curtains, it finally clicked.
Archie's face swims up from memory. The shock when Sceptile transformed. The anguish, raw and real, like Lee had personally betrayed him. Then the seething, burning hate.
"I've seen what that does to a pokemon! The corruption, the twisting, the way they lose themselves to the pain!"
Archie thought Mega Evolution was torture. He'd seen Maxie's Camerupt, seen whatever horrors an improperly executed transformation could inflict, and assumed that was the only way it worked.
And then Lee opened his stupid mouth.
"My pokemon aren't in pain."
He can still see the way Archie's expression shifted. The hatred halted in its tracks, and a narrow-eyed reassessing of a previously bleak looking gameboard took place.
Lee's stomach sinks.
'I showed him it could be done right. I showed him it doesn't have to hurt.' He closes his eyes, fighting the urge to groan aloud. 'I just gave the leader of Team Aqua a reason to hunt down mega stones of his own.'
Sharpedo, despite being weak to Sceptile type-wise, held his own perfectly fine until the Mega came out. Next time, Archie won't be caught off guard. He'll come prepared.
Lee wipes a hand down his face and shimmies from under the covers, pausing to send Nine a soothing, wordless urge to keep resting when she stirs.
With the rest of the room still asleep, Lee slips his phone from the nightstand and pads over to the kitchenette. The tile is cold under his bare feet, and he winces at the soft click of the coffee machine as he flicks it on. A glance over his shoulder confirms no one stirred.
The little carafe begins to fill, and the smell that wafts up makes his nose wrinkle. Hotel-provided coffee. He'd hoped Rubello might have better standards than the last few places, but no. It's the same burnt, over-roasted sludge that tastes like someone boiled dirt and called it a day.
'Beggars can't be choosers,' he reminds himself, and turns his attention to his phone.
His inbox isn't flooded yet. That's something. The real deluge will probably come once the news cycle gets its teeth into the story, but for now, it's manageable.
There's a reply from Monty, the Hoenn Lab's PR lead. Lee had fired off a quick heads-up last night before the exhaustion fully set in, and Monty's response is reassuringly professional. Understood. My team will handle media inquiries regarding the Weather Institute. Focus on recovery. Will coordinate with League PR to keep messaging consistent.
One less thing to worry about.
Below that is an email from Professor Birch. Lee taps it open, bracing himself for a lecture, and finds... the opposite.
Lee,
Brendan filled me in on the broad strokes. I know you didn't have much choice, but thank you for playing it as safe as you could. Get some rest. We'll talk soon.
- Nigel
A small smile tugs at the corner of Lee's mouth. At least he didn't get a dressing down this time. Mt. Chimney earned him a thirty-minute phone call that still makes his ears burn to think about.
Before he can scroll any further, a soft pop sounds behind him.
Lee turns to see Shinx standing at the foot of Lokoko's bed, her little nose twitching as she sniffs at the rumpled covers. After a moment, she loses interest and trots over to him, her claws clicking softly on the tile.
She's not so little anymore, he notices. Not for the first time. She's grown past the size of a regular Shinx, her frame filling out with lean muscle, and the fur on her cheeks... it's getting darker. Just a shade, barely noticeable unless you're looking for it, but it's there.
Lee kneels down, running a hand along her back. "Morning, sweetheart," he murmurs, keeping his voice low. "You're up early."
Shinx purrs, leaning into the touch, and that's when he notices the little tuft of yellow poking out from between her teeth.
Lee frowns. "What've you got there?"
She opens her mouth obligingly, letting him pluck the tuft free. He holds it up to the dim light filtering through the curtains, and his frown deepens.
Fur. Golden-yellow, impossibly fine and silky. The exact shade of...
"Shinx." He gives her a look, keeping his voice to a whisper. "Ninetales wouldn't have taken kindly to you pulling out her fur, you know. You're lucky she's still asleep."
Shinx shakes her head, her oversized ears bouncing with the motion. Then she turns, very deliberately, and stares at the bundle of covers on Lokoko's bed.
Lee follows her gaze.
Peeking from the edge of the covers, down near the foot of the bed, is the unmistakable tip of a Ninetales tail.
The tuft of fur is suddenly heavier in his fingers, pulling towards the floor like a flat bar of iron. Looking down at the fur uneasily, he hopes beyond hope that what he’s about to do isn’t too creepy, and lifts the tuft to his nose. He needs only half a breath to confirm it.
This is not Nine’s fur.
‘Oh no…’
Lokoko's expertise with pokemon care. Her prim, old-fashioned manners. The way she understood Ninetales' speech perfectly, without any of the usual fumbling that comes from reading body language alone. The way Nine seemed to regard her with a wariness that bordered on territorial. All the little oddities that looked disjointed on the surface suddenly form a very coherent picture.
For the longest time, Lee has been wondering if Lokoko was some sort of side character in the greater Pokemon story. His gut said yes, but without actually recalling where she was from, speculating felt like a waste of mental energy. He'd figured it would come to him eventually, or that she'd reveal herself in her own time.
Now, staring at that golden tail tip, the memory surfaces like a shark with jaws poised to rend him in two.
Lokoko is a Ninetales. And not just any Ninetales, either.
She appeared in just one episode. Lee's brow furrows as he dredges up the details, sifting through years of half-remembered Pokemon episodes. Early in the original anime, back when Ash was still stumbling through Kanto… No, it was Johto by this time, with Misty and Brock. A character of the day. A Ninetales who latched onto Brock because he bore some resemblance to her long-dead master.
The episode played out like so many others at first. Mystery, intrigue, the gang stumbling into something they didn't fully understand, but then came the twist.
The mysterious woman they met in the foggy mountains, Lokoko, wasn't human. She never had been. She was a Ninetales who had stayed behind after her master's death, guarding his home long after the servants left or passed on themselves.
She was there not for years, nor for decades, but for centuries.
All that time alone had given her the opportunity to hone her illusory abilities to a degree that bordered on absurd. She'd faked an entire mansion, complete with furnishings and atmosphere, and Ash and his friends hadn't suspected a thing until Lokoko began to slip in her excitement to see her “master” again. Only at the end did Lokoko found the strength to let go at Brock’s urging.
Lee's mouth goes dry.
'Oh Arceus in heaven.'
He looks back at the bed, at the bundle of covers, at the tail tip that has since vanished back beneath the blankets.
There is a multi-century-old Ninetales sleeping just a dozen feet away.
Lee's fingers tighten around the tuft of fur, and before anyone else can see it, he tosses it in the trash bin.
'I need to sit down and write things out,' he thinks, the resolution settling into place like a key turning in a lock. 'Everything I can remember. Even the half-baked stuff. Even the things I'm not sure about.'
Getting caught flat-footed by Aqua storming the Weather Institute was bad enough. Being blindsided by Lokoko on top of it is just too much, too fast. He can't keep stumbling from one surprise to the next, always reacting and never anticipating. Not when the stakes keep climbing.
'There has to be a way to dig this stuff up faster.' He chews the inside of his cheek, thinking. 'Some kind of mental exercise, maybe? Memory techniques?'
During his meetings with Anabel, the Frontier Brain confirmed what Lee already suspected: he has no psychic potential of his own. Any flicker of extra perception he might feel is just bleedover from Ninetales, echoes of her abilities filtering through their bond. Nothing he can develop or train independently.
But surely there's a mundane method. Mnemonic devices, meditation, something. People on his Earth managed to pull off impressive feats of recall without any psychic assistance. There has to be something he can use.
'Better get started on that today,' he thinks morosely, 'if I'm going to spill the beans to Steven.'
The thought sends a fresh spike of anxiety through him, sharp enough that Ninetales stirs on the bed. Her mind brushes against his, fuzzy with sleep but already reaching for the source of his distress.
Lee catches himself, smoothing the jagged edges of his emotions before they can fully wake her. 'Sorry, love. Go back to sleep.'
A wordless pulse of reluctant acceptance filters back, and Nine settles again, her breathing evening out.
At least one of them should be well-rested for today.
Lee looks back down at Shinx, who has been watching him with those big yellow eyes the whole time.
He reaches out and scratches behind her ears, a tired smile tugging at his mouth.
"Nothing gets past you, does it?" he murmurs.
Shinx purrs proudly.
The rest of the room stirs to life in stages.
Zinnia is first, rolling out of her bunk with a groan and shuffling toward the bathroom without a word. The door clicks shut, and a moment later the shower starts running. Brendan follows not long after, bleary-eyed and yawning, his hair sticking up at odd angles.
"Coffee," he mumbles, making a beeline for the kitchenette.
"Already made," Lee says, sliding a paper cup toward him. "Fair warning, it tastes like burnt dirt."
Brendan takes a sip anyway, grimaces, and takes another sip. "Yep. That's bad." He doesn't stop drinking.
Lokoko is the last to rise.
She sits up slowly, the covers pooling around her waist, and Lee finds himself watching from the corner of his eye. Now that he knows what to look for, the little details jump out at him. The way her covers rustle oddly as she shifts, like invisible tails are brushing against the fabric beneath. The way her hair falls in perfect waves despite having just woken up, not a strand out of place. The conservative white nightgown she wears is immaculate, without a single wrinkle.
It’s all too perfect.
'How did I not see it before?'
"Good morning," Lokoko says, her voice soft and unhurried. She rises from the bed with the kind of fluid grace that doesn't belong to someone who just woke up. "My, something smells dreadful. Is that the coffee?"
"Hotel-provided," Lee confirms, keeping his voice light. "Brendan's on his second cup anyway."
"Caffeine is caffeine," Brendan mutters defensively.
Lee turns to the small fridge, pulling out eggs and every other salvageable bit leftover from dinner the night prior. "Brendan, can you get the pokemon food ready?"
"On it."
They fall into an easy rhythm, working around each other in the cramped kitchenette. Lee cracks eggs into a pan while Brendan feeds bread into the toaster, then pads back to his and Lee’s backpacks for the myriad of bowls they’ll soon need. It's familiar, domestic, and it almost lets Lee forget the revelation still churning in the back of his mind.
Ninetales rises from the bed, stretching languidly before padding over to Lee's side. Her nose twitches, and her eyes find his face immediately.
'You are troubled.' It's not a question. 'More than you were last night.'
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Lee keeps his focus on the eggs, pushing them around the pan with a spatula. 'Took a look at my thoughts yet?'
A pause. Then a sensation like pages turning, Ninetales flipping through his recent memories as if they were her own. She pauses on the ruminations about Archie and Mega Evolution, then moves to Lokoko.
Her reaction is immediate. A low, rumbling growl builds in her chest, barely audible, and her tails bristle. Lee feels her hackles rise through their bond, a surge of protective anger flooding through the connection.
'I knew something was wrong with her.' Nine's mental voice is sharp and vindicated. 'I knew it from the moment we met. Her scent was off. Her movements were off. Everything about her screamed falsehood, and I-'
'Easy.' Lee sends a calming pulse through their bond, though his own heart rate has ticked up in response to her agitation. 'She hasn't done anything hostile. Not yet, anyway.'
'She has been deceiving us for days. That is hostile enough in my opinion.'
Lee can't really argue with that. He flips the eggs, buying himself a moment to think.
'What do you want to do?' Nine presses. 'Confront her? Expose her to the others?'
'We’ll have to be careful with it. We can't just say "Hey everyone, our traveling companion is actually a centuries-old Ninetales who could probably turn us all inside-out with a thought".' Lee shakes his head minutely. 'Brendan might be able to keep cool, but there is no telling how Zinnia will react. And if Lokoko wanted to hurt us, she's had plenty of opportunities.'
Nine's growl subsides, but her displeasure remains as a sour knot in the back of Lee's awareness. 'Then what do you suggest?'
'For now, we wait. Once we can get some time alone with Zinnia and Brendan, we can let them in on it. I know our thoughts are hell to tap, but we don’t know if Lokoko can listen in on normal telepathy or not, so it should be verbal.’ Lee bites his lip. ‘Her interest is clearly on us, though. Maybe we let her think we're still in the dark and see what she does next.' He plates the eggs, setting them aside. 'Besides, we're meeting Steven today. I'd rather not add "unmasking a legendary-tier illusionist" to the agenda if I can help it.'
'I do not like it.'
'I know. I don't either.' Lee reaches down, running a hand along her flank. 'I don't think she's evil, though, so for now, we can leave well enough alone.'
Ninetales is quiet for a long moment. Her tails slowly settle, the bristling fur smoothing back down.
'...Fine. We watch. But the moment she gives me reason to doubt her intentions, I will act.'
'And I won’t stop you.'
Breakfast comes together quickly after that. Eggs, toast, and some fruit Zinnia must have picked up yesterday. They eat around the small table, conversation kept light and inconsequential. Brendan complains about the coffee again. Zinnia needles him about his bedhead. Lokoko eats delicately, offering the occasional polite comment.
Lee watches her when he thinks she isn't looking. She never slips, not even once.
Their teams are let out for their own breakfasts one trainer at a time. If they didn’t stagger it, then between Corviknight and Salamence, the room would be awfully cramped.
Just like last night, Zinnia and Salamence carefully avoid looking at each other.
After the plates are cleared and the dishes rinsed, they begin gathering their things. Bags are packed, pokeballs checked, travel clothes pulled on. The morning routine of trainers on the move.
"Fortree by midday if the weather holds," Zinnia says, clipping her beltpack on. "You’re having a little pow-wow with Stone, right, Dolittle? Think he’ll slide us some medals for our valiant service?” she asks with a grin, tapping the breast of her cropped jacket with two bandaged fingers.
“Its not a pow-wow,” Lee sighs, bringing up the rear with Ninetales as they exit the room. He casts a look back to make sure they have everything, then lets the door shut heavily behind him. “And I’d like you and Brendan to be there, too. I’ve got a few…” He flounders for the words. “Ah, well, a recent addendum to add to some of the stuff we talked about.”
Both Zinnia and Brendan turn their heads back to him at once. Brendan’s youthful face hardens a bit, his brows meeting at the edge of his hat, and the Draconid tribeswoman holds the witty reply that was likely on her tongue.
Lokoko watches with a raised eyebrow, but doesn’t comment on the cryptic words.
‘Calling a literal divine revelation a mere addendum to our tale…’ Ninetales shakes her head, making her head tuft sway.
‘It is, in fact, an addendum by the definition.’
‘I know, Beloved, I know. What odd humor the world throws upon us sometimes.’
They turn in their room keys at the front desk, the clerk offering a tired smile and a mumbled "safe travels" before they step outside.
Rubello hasn't fared too badly, all things considered. The town sits on the edge of where the storm hit hardest, and while there are scattered branches in the streets and a few awnings that look worse for wear, nothing seems catastrophically damaged. Cleanup crews are already out, their pokemon partners hauling debris and patching roofs. Across the street, a young man in a hi-vis vest is tossing downed limbs into a cart pulled by his Rhyhorn, who is nodding his shovel-shaped head to his trainer’s humming.
Lee tilts his head back, taking in the sky. Pale blue, streaked with wisps of white. A far cry from the angry black of last night.
The air is damp, puddles still dotting the sidewalks, but the tropical autumn keeps it from becoming oppressive. If this were summer, the lingering moisture would have already turned the whole town into a muggy, humid mess. Small mercies.
"Alright," Lee says, unclipping a pokeball from his belt. "Let's get moving."
Corviknight materializes in a flash of light, the massive steel bird shaking out his feathers and surveying the street with imperious red eyes. A few passersby stop to stare, and Lee can't blame them. Corviknight cuts an impressive figure even when he's not doing anything.
Beside him, Zinnia releases Noivern, the wyvern stretching her wings with a yawn that shows off rows of needle-like teeth. Brendan's hand goes to his own belt, and Latias appears a moment later, her sleek form hovering just off the ground.
'Must I?' Ninetales asks, eyeing her pokeball, then Lokoko.
'Unless you want to cling to Corviknight's back for a few hours, yes.'
A huff. 'I was jesting, but you aren’t the only one who can worry,' she says before being recalled into her ball.
Lee swings up into Corviknight's saddle, settling into the familiar position. A moment later, he feels Lokoko climb up behind him, her movements so graceful and sure.
Then her arms wrap around his torso, and Lee has to fight not to tense.
He can feel two slender arms circling his midsection. Dexterous fingers lacing together against his stomach. A modest frame pressing against his back, warm and solid through the fabric of his jacket.
No fur. No extra limbs. Nothing that would betray what she really is.
'Is it even an illusion?' he wonders, keeping his breathing steady. 'Or something else entirely?'
He can feel her. Really, truly feel her, in a way that shouldn't be possible if she's just projecting an image into his mind. Is it a genuine transformation? Some application of illusory power so thorough that it fools touch, temperature, weight, everything at once?
The thought is... unsettling. And a little awe-inspiring, if he's being honest.
Unbidden, a hope surfaces in the back of his mind. If Lokoko's ends aren't malicious, if she really is just testing them for reasons of her own... and if she could be convinced to pass even a fraction of her skills to Ninetales...
It would help immensely with the trials to come.
Corviknight spreads his wings, and they take to the sky.
Just as Zinnia predicted, they arrive at Fortree just before noon.
The city comes into view gradually, emerging from the dense canopy like something out of a nature documentary. As they circle overhead, waiting for Air Traffic Control to clear them to land, Lee leans over Corviknight's side to take in the landscape below.
In both the games and real life, Fortree has a reputation similar to Verdanturf. A place where the residents haven't oppressed the nature around them, but rather slipped into the space and given the natural world its proper due. The virtual version had been a collection of wooden treehouses connected by rope bridges, charming in a rustic sort of way. In reality, Lee had figured that would be a harder sell for most people. Modern amenities, infrastructure, accessibility... all of it would be difficult to manage in a literal tree city.
Down below, however, is pretty close.
Green dominates. Nearly every building hosts a rooftop garden, thick with foliage and flowering plants. The tallest structures still sit below the branches of the largest trees, dwarfed by ancient trunks that must have been growing for centuries. Wild pokemon flit between the canopy and the streets like any other pedestrian. A flock of Taillow darts past a second-story window. A Kecleon clings to the side of a building, its coloring shifting lazily as it basks in a patch of sunlight. Something large and shaggy, a Slakoth maybe, dozes in the crook of a massive branch.
It's the kind of sustainable urbanism that the conservationists back on his Earth could only dream about, and Lee has to wonder if Nigel has already studied how such a unique habitat impacts pokemon.
The city does sport some damage from last night's storm, but it's far less than Lee expected. A few scattered branches here and there, some loose roofing tiles, a toppled market stall being righted by its owner. The worst he can see is an old, downed tree near the city's edge. A team of Swellow are working it over, gripping ropes and tarps in their talons, maneuvering the massive trunk toward an open clearing.
Once they get it into position, a Skarmory drops from above like a silver arrow. The steel bird sports a scarf around its neck, some kind of identification marker, and latches onto the fallen tree with its talons. Then it lifts off.
The tree rises with it, as if it weighs nothing at all. The Skarmory banks lazily, completely unbothered by its burden, and carries it off toward what looks like a lumber processing area.
Lee squints.
Down on the ground, moving among the cleanup crews, he spots a distinctive figure. Light purple hair, pulled into a long ponytail. An aviator-inspired outfit in shades of blue and white. She's directing traffic, pointing here and there, her Altaria idly preening her cloudy wings next to her.
Ah, right. Gym Leader Winona probably wasn't idle last night, and she isn't idle today, either. That explains why the damage is being cleaned up so quickly.
Lee's radio crackles to life, interrupting his thoughts.
"Flight group Hotel Lima Charlie – Zero Two, apologies for the delay. We've had a lot of traffic in the last few hours." The ATC controller sounds harried but professional. "You are cleared to land. Watch the canopy on your descent."
Lee thumbs the transmit button on the saddle. "Copy, ATC. Descending to Pokemon Center. Thanks for your patience."
He nudges Corviknight into a gentle bank, leading the formation down. The descent requires care. Fortree's trees are massive, their branches spreading wide and interlocking in places, and threading three flying pokemon through the gaps takes concentration. Corviknight handles it with his usual aplomb, tucking his wings at the right moments, adjusting his angle with minute shifts of his tail feathers.
They touch down outside the Pokemon Center, the building a sturdy wooden structure that blends seamlessly with the surrounding greenery. A small crowd has gathered, drawn by the sound of wingbeats, and Lee can feel their stares as he straightens in the saddle.
Some of the looks are for Corviknight. The steel raven is rare enough in Hoenn that he draws attention wherever they go.
But more of the looks, far more, are fixed on Latias. The Eon pokemon hovers beside Brendan, her red and white form unmistakable, and the murmurs that ripple through the crowd carry a distinctly reverent tone. As per usual, cameras are raised, and inwardly, Lee wonders how much of the Lab PR team’s workload is keeping mania about Latias and Brendan under control.
More than it should be, for sure.
Lee swings down from the saddle, then turns to offer Lokoko a hand. She takes it, her grip light and steady, and descends with that same unnatural grace.
"Thank you," she says, smoothing out her kimono.
Lee just nods, then turns to Corviknight. He unbuckles the hefty saddle and lifts it with a grunt, folding it and dropping it in his bag. Once his raven is free of the leather and rubber, he runs a hand along the great bird's neck.
"Good flying, Corvi.” He smiles. “Get some rest."
Corviknight lets out a low, rumbling croak of acknowledgement before the red light of his pokeball pulls him in.
While Zinnia and Brendan work on unsaddling their own mounts, Lee pulls out his phone. He's aware of Ninetales watching through his eyes, her attention a steady presence in the back of his mind.
Landed at Fortree Pokemon Center, he types. We're here.
The reply comes faster than he expected.
Good. I'll be there in a few minutes. I've already reserved Meeting Room #1 in the Center. Go ahead and get comfortable.
Lee lets out a breath, pocketing the phone.
'You're nervous,' Nine observes.
'Just now noticing?' he jokes back.
A soothing warmth spreads through their bond, gentle and unhurried, and Lee feels some of the tension bleed out of his shoulders. The sensation of a hearth-like fire in his veins doesn't banish the jitters entirely, but it makes them manageable.
'Thank you.'
'Always,' Nine returns, and a phantom muzzle with upturned lips presses itself to his neck.
He turns the conversation over in his head as they make their way toward the Center's entrance. Everything he needs to tell Steven. Everything he's been putting off.
Magma. Aqua. The Draconid Prophecy…
…And Giratina.
Even weeks afterward, Lee's head throbs when he tries to recall the encounter. The black, amorphous form that was everywhere around them, yet nowhere at once. Shadows blacker than black, folding in on themselves in ways that made his eyes water. Eyes the color of fresh blood, fixed on him with an intensity that should have been terrifying.
Yet there hadn't been a single prickle of hostility. Not one.
Giratina truly lives up to its mythos as The Renegade. Even when it comes to the expectation that it should be the most terrifying pokemon in existence, it rejects convention.
Lee blinks when a hand waves in front of his face.
He finds Lokoko looking at him, one elegant eyebrow raised.
"Something on your mind?" Lokoko asks, her voice carrying a note of polite curiosity. "You've been staring into space for nearly a full minute."
Lee shakes himself. "Ah, sorry. I was just... conversing with Ninetales."
It's not entirely a lie. Nine is always there, after all.
He glances back down at his phone, at Steven's message still glowing on the screen. "I don't know how long this meeting is going to take. I apologize in advance."
Lokoko waves a hand, the gesture elegant and unhurried. "If you are meeting with a Champion, then it most certainly isn't something to be rushed. I will wait for you." A pause, and something flickers behind her eyes. "Even if I do find it a little rude to be left in the dark about such goings-on."
The bait dangles there, obvious and delicate, but Lee doesn't bite.
"Thank you for understanding," he says, keeping his tone pleasant. "You don't need to wait in the Center if you'd rather not. We can come find you after we're done, if you'd like to spend your time elsewhere."
Lokoko tilts her head, considering. Then she shakes it, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
"That is considerate of you, but I will wait. Once your meeting is concluded..." Her eyes meet his, and there's something sharper beneath the politeness now. "I would like to discuss my proposed tests and experiments. Post-haste, if possible."
Before Lee can formulate a response, she turns and walks inside, her kimono swaying gently with each step.
He watches her go, a dozen half-formed thoughts tangling in his head.
'That woman,' Nine's voice cuts through the noise, 'is far too used to getting her way.'
'Can't argue with that.'
Lee shakes his head and unclips Nine's pokeball, releasing her in a flash of light. She materializes beside him, shaking out her fur and casting a disdainful glance toward the Pokemon Center's entrance.
"Brendan, Zinnia." Lee waves them over as they finish stowing their own gear. "Steven's on his way. We should head to the meeting room."
Zinnia shoulders her pack, falling into step beside him. "Lead on, Dolittle."
The meeting room inside the Pokemon Center is familiar in its layout, if not in specifics. It reminds Lee of the rooms he used during his therapy sessions with Mable, the same neutral colors and soft lighting designed to put people at ease. The difference is that this one has a rectangular table surrounded by chairs rather than a single armchair facing a sofa.
He wonders, not for the first time, if these rooms are standardized across all Pokemon Centers. Some kind of League specification, maybe.
They settle in to wait. Lee takes a seat near the middle of the table, Ninetales curling up at his feet. Brendan takes his left, fidgeting with a pokeball. Zinnia drops into the chair to the right of Lee, tipping it back on two legs.
For about thirty seconds, there's silence, then Zinnia's chair thumps back down.
"Alright, I give up." She turns to face Lee, one arm draped over the back of her seat. "What's this new thing you want to tell us about? You've been cagey all morning."
Lee sighs. "I'd rather only explain it once. Let's wait for Steven."
They aren’t left hanging for long. A few minutes later, the door opens.
Steven Stone steps inside, looking far more composed than his bed-rumpled state the night before. His suit is pressed, his silver hair neatly combed, and while there are still faint shadows under his eyes, he carries himself like… Well, a Champion.
"Lee." He nods in greeting, then pauses as his gaze sweeps the room, taking in Brendan and Zinnia. "I thought today was going to be a one-on-one."
Lee shrugs. "With pokemon and trainers, it's never truly one-on-one. It's always one committee communicating to another." He gestures to his companions. "Besides, I trust Zinnia and Brendan implicitly. Whatever I have to say, they can hear, and whatever you have for me, they will eventually hear anyway."
Brendan puffs up proudly, and Zinnia scoffs, a faint flush on her face.
Steven considers that for a moment, then accepts it with a slight incline of his head. "Very well."
He reaches for his belt and releases Metagross. The massive Steel-type materializes beside the table, its four legs touching down with a heavy thunk that Lee feels through the floor. Those red eyes sweep the room once, scanning everything, perhaps in a literal sense.
"Metagross," Steven says as he pulls a chair out and makes himself comfortable. "If you would."
The supercomputer pokemon hums, its body vibrating in place. A faint glow emanates from its steel hide, and then hexagonal plates of light begin crawling up the walls, spreading across the ceiling, sealing every crack and seam until the room is encased in a shimmering lattice.
Beside Lee, Ninetales goes rigid.
'I cannot sense the world outside this room anymore,' she reports, her mental voice tight. 'And I can feel Metagross brushing against our thoughts. Lightly, but deliberately.' A pause. 'Lie detecting.'
Lee suppresses a shiver. What a frightful creature Metagross is. Four brains working in concert, processing power that dwarfs any supercomputer humanity ever built, and a psychic touch delicate enough to sift truth from lies without the subject even noticing.
"Before we begin," Lee says, keeping his voice steady, though his fingers drum on the table in an agitated cadence. "I'd like to ask you and Metagross to keep an open mind. Some of what I have to say might seem... shocking. Or outlandish."
Steven settles into the chair across from him, folding his hands on the table. A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
"Lee, you've been a cryptic font since our first meeting, but I’ve found that you've yet to tell me a single lie." His steel-gray eyes glitter with something that might be amusement. "It will take something truly wild to unbalance me at this point."
Lee glances at Ninetales.
'I am with you.'
He nods, then takes a deep breath. "I'm from another world," Lee blurts. "One where Pokemon was just a children’s game."
Steven blinks. His expression doesn't change, but something behind his eyes shifts. He glances over to Metagross, one eyebrow raised in silent question.
Metagross looks... perturbed. Its massive head tilts, red eyes flickering, not unlike an LED in a computer mid-processing. Then, slowly, it nods, the whole middle section of its body dipping with the gesture.
The Champion slumps back in his chair. “Oh.”
Across the table, Brendan lets out a laugh, bright and sudden in the heavy silence. "That's how we all looked, too!"