Tom and Layla had taken their time in getting back to the hotel room, which probably was a bad thing, but the night was cool and the walk they shared was enjoyable. For a while, Layla had to help Tom in walking, leading him gently with her paw through the dimmed streets. It was a complete role reverse, she had mentioned, that she was now the one helping Tom along the way. Tom chuckled as he realised how useless she had felt while like this. His rib still gave him pain by the time they reached the hotel's door, but it had eased from a sharp piercing to a dull, hot throb in his side. He had eased up too, becoming less dependent on Layla's guidance. The hotel receptionist paid them no head as they walked by, far too engrossed in a phone call he was making. It was likely for the best that he hadn't noticed the roughed up, smelling of blood and sweat Irishman being led by a Pokémon to the elevators. Questions would have been asked and not pleasant ones.

They entered the elevator, Tom pressing the button for the fifth floor on which they were staying. The sudden jolt of movement as the elevator began its climb startled Layla, making her sway and lose her balance. She wasn't used to human contraptions, and fell into Tom's grip as she stumbled backwards. The constant movement of the elevator made it hard for her to rebalance herself and she kept falling back into Tom, who laughed at her clumsiness, Layla huffing that such a thing was unfitting of a fighter who could easily balance on only a few toes.

The opening of the elevator caught them off guard, Layla still leaning back into tom's grip, as the door opened to reveal a surprised Michael and Will. Will chuckled at seeing the two, who straightened up as soon as they were noticed, both rather embarrassed. Tom cursed his luck at always being caught by the two in these awkward situations, Will laughing at them while Michael gave a wistful and knowing smile.

"What are you two doing out?" Tom asked, wincing as he stood straight.

"We were going to look around the city" Michael said "I thought that we might see something useful" He said. In reality, he just wanted to get out of the hotel and do breathe some fresh air, maybe sit for a while with his own thoughts in some secluded area. He felt drained, wanting to get away from all of this for just a while and be alone with his memoires that seemed so far away by now.

"Well, that shouldn't matter now, we got something that may help" Tom said, ushering them all back into the room. Michael didn't bother protesting despite his weariness and followed, slumping back into the same chair he had been wallowing in all day since they had arrived. Tom sat on one of the beds, laying his back against the headboard and letting the adrenaline from the earlier fiasco drain from him, being replaced by the same weariness that Michael felt. He sighed deeply as he started.

"Layla and I did some searching around the city" He started "We might have found some way to Hoenn". Michaels heart skipped a beat, he hadn't thought it would come so quickly, even with Tom's skills in investigation.

"Some club owner offered us fake passes aboard that ferry. They would get us past the people patrolling the docks, most of which are his men anyway, it seems" Tom said, anger simmering in his gut as he told the next part "He said he wanted 350,000 for them. I've got no idea how much that is in this place, but I assume it's a lot from the set up he had going."

"Did you get the passes?" Michael asked hopefully, knowing that the salvation he sought may be so close to reach.

"No, he said we could pay other ways, but...it wasn't worth it" He said, dashing Michael hopes

"Why...what offer wasn't worth this?" Michael said, slightest hint of anger and scorn in his voice. That anger disappeared immediately when Tom didn't answer, instead apprehensively glancing at Layla. Let out a small sigh as Tom continued

"We decided to find another way to Hoenn, but he...he was very persuasive, not able to take no for an answer. I jumped one of his grunts, untrained guy who looked like he'd hardly fought anyone, and we managed to escape from the place" He explained. Layla gave a small nod

"I fell...Tom carried me but on the way out...he hurt his side when getting past someone" She said quietly. It wasn't often she talked to anyone but Tom, and felt like an unnoticed minority in the group. "That's why we took so long to come back here"

"Thankfully that guy was too sure of himself making the deal. Let some information slip that he shouldn't have" Tom said proudly.

"Can we use it to get to Hoenn?" Michael asked, desperation still lingering in his voice

"Hopefully, if we pull things off right" Tom said. Michael felt relived as he began to listen to Tom's plan. "He told us that he has people working the docks, they let you through if you show them a fake pass. But what he also said is that his men can also let you in through a weak link in the fence around the place"

"Are you suggesting we break in?" Will asked worriedly "Smuggle ourselves aboard the ship?"

"Perhaps, it's probably the best idea right now" Tom said. Will sighed exasperatedly

"But where would we hide? We can't just stay in one of the cabins and below the deck would likely be filled with ship crew" Will said

"That woman said that merchants have passes to the ship" Will explained carefully "If merchants use the ship, surely they'd need a large cargo hold, one big enough to take shipping containers" Tom said

"Spending sixteen hours in a crate...first class travel" Will muttered "What if they find us?"

"Unlikely that the crew would check the containers when they're on board, unless they happen to be inclined to thievery. We might be able to simply stow away in the hold, rather than a container, but once on the ship those containers will probably be locked until they're unloaded anyway" Tom said "That wouldn't be good for us"

"How can we get off the ship?" Michael spoke up. Turn turned to him and gave him a half-hearted shrug

"Sneaking off in broad daylight is out of the question, and they'd noticed if we took one of the lifeboats" Tom rubbed his tired face, a silence following. No one was able to think of a way off the ship once they had gotten on, cruelly ironic that their goal to get to Hoenn was the one thing hindering them. After a while, Layla spoke up, eager to end the uncomfortable and time wasting silence.

"...We can figure that out when we're on the ship" She said "It's most important to get on that boat first". Tom admired that she had set the priorities right, but the pressure would still be on them to escape, and they would be cornered like rats when they were aboard.

"Fine" Michael concluded "It's a risk worth taking". Tom looked at Michael and saw the newfound determination in his face again. He knew there would be no deterring the boy from getting on that ship now, even without an escape plan. He grunted annoyedly and stood up, easing himself into stance, thankful that the pain had died down enough for him to walk.

"As much as I hate it, fine, we'll just go and figure it out onboard" He said, opening the mini-bar and taking the rest of the snacks, hoping they'd suffice for the journey. "Suppose stealing a lifeboat isn't too bad if we set it back out to sea again or something...". He opened the door and waited for everyone else to gather their minimal things.

"What?" Will asked "we're leaving right now?"

"It's the best time" Tom said, glancing at the clock which read 9:47 PM "The ferry will be gone in the morning, we need to get aboard as soon as we can"

"How do we do that anyway? We sneak into the dock, then what?" Will said, hurriedly grabbing his own blanket and stuffing a few pages of internet print offs into his pocket, courtesy of the Hotel lobby terminal.

"If it has a cargo hold it needs a cargo hold door" Tom explained slowly, mocking Will with the simplicity. "We get onto the ship through that door"

"We just walk on?" Will said, dumbstruck by how straightforward Tom made it sound it elude security around the port

"Maybe...we'll see when we get there" Tom said as they all walked to the elevators, Layla managing to do so with only a small limp. Tom knew the plan was still half baked and that the risk of something happening was high, something he didn't like. If he could, he'd forget about this whole plan and deem it more trouble than it was worth, but Michael would never let him do that and other ways into Hoenn so directly were scant.

The elevator ride was shorter this time, and less awkward for Tom, as they made their way to the ground floor. The receptionist called to them as they exited, waving for attention.

"Checking out, sirs?" he asked

"No, we're all just heading out for a drink" Tom lied, sincerity laced in his voice. The receptionist nodded and want back to work, Tom chuckling at his work in action.

The night air was now cool and crisp, their breath all forming small clouds of mist as they walked. Michael shivered, only having his shirt for warmth, wishing he had something warmer, or someone. Layla was fascinated by the lights of the city that stretched high into the sky, gleaming yellow along the roofs and sides of high rise buildings that faded to a deep blue in the darkness. Everything Humans made always seemed so big, as if they were compensating for their weakness in battle, like they often did with everything. While humans developed the land and evolved to fit their surroundings, Pokémon made do with what they could find. If somewhere was too cold or there was not enough food, they would migrate quickly and easily. But humans, who could not travel as they could, were forced to create these huge cities and loud, almost unnecessarily fast vehicles, letting them explore further than any Pokémon could on their own. And although these things were strange to her, she found them to be almost exciting as they continued through the streets, past bright lights and blaring music. She could imagine herself living in a place like this, exploring a new area every day and finding new people and Pokémon to see. But she doubted she would like to stay forever, as she also enjoyed the solitary mountains and ranges which her clan had often travelled through. Now that she had seen both sides of the world, she was torn between one and the other. But she let it go as they broke through the buildings to the shoreline, where the scent of the sea was carried on the air and the sound of the seas gently crash on the shore soothed their ears.

She didn't have much time to admire the beauty, however, as Tom led them all to the harbour, creeping along the beach and heading down onto the sand, where the raised fence sat on the concrete docking platform. The lights were on near the rear of the ferry terminal, although little activity could be heard coming from above, a good thing, probably. The rear corner was where he headed and where he showed them the weak link in the fence, old chain link worn, multiple marks where it had been re-welded, and flaking with brown rust. Tom tugged at the chain link, testing its strength as quietly as he could, the rattling noise sounding much louder against the ambient backdrop of the ocean. He tugged harder, the metal creaking and protesting, but refusing to give way.

"God...bugger" Tom muttered angrily as his desperation grew, knowing that the dock night guards could show up at any moment. Will was peeking over the concrete block and through the bottom of the fence, still telling tom that no one was yet coming. Layla gently put a paw on his arm and eased him way from the fence.

"I want to try something" She said quietly, letting Tom back away and give her the space for her work. She held her paw against the fence, lightly gripping the cool metal, and drew out that all too familiar power. Gentle blue light hummed along the fence and a soft blaze grew in her hand, spreading along the chain links like wildfire. The links did not melt, as everyone had thought they would, but blackened and soon crumpled under their down weight, dark dust scattering into the wind. Even Layla herself was fascinated by this. Her time in the other world had strengthened her aura use slightly by ways of deprivation, forcing her to draw out more in a place where it was scarce. The blackened metal all fell away, what the left clinging brushed away by her paw, leaving a hole big enough for any man to crawl through.

"Ever the resourceful one" Tom said, choosing not to question how she knew it would work or why it even did work. Will choose to keep his questions until later as well, wishing to simply get this plan over with. But even if her were to ask, Layla wouldn't know what to say. In the wild, she had used aura for nothing but sensing and fighting, she knew little of its properties and she doubted that any of her race did. It was a gift they accepted without much thought, not needing to experiment when what they had would suffice.

They took turns and climbed through the fence, gaining only small scratches from the edges of the vaporised metal, Tom instantly ducking behind the side of the building and motioning for the others to do the same. Michael surveyed the port from behind cover, the large yellow floodlights throwing dark ochre shadows along the concrete ground, stained a dirty yellow in the light. Rows of containers sat in the yard, waiting for transport, although it was impossible for him to tell whether they were already unloaded or due for loading. The object of his desire, the ferry the S.S. Anne, was bathed in the same yellow glow which gleamed off its white hull. The ship dwarfed any of the machinery around the shipyard and rose it's intimidating form high above the platforms it was moored to, becoming a great beacon for them all.

Tom survey the shipyard as Michael did, but his mind was working on tactical information now, analysing covering spots and shadows where the group could hide in case of being spotted. He saw only what was important, nothing more and nothing less. But his view was restricted by cargo containers, leaving him blind to the moored side of the ferry and any entrance that may be open.

"Follow my lead" He quietly whispered to the rest, making towards the cargo containers with a careful and silent run before anyone could ask a question. They all followed, like he needed them to, without question.

They moved through the aged containers, each one showing rust from the salty sea air it always sat in for hours on end, providing enough shadow in the high power floodlights for them to remain unseen. No guards had been seen until now, but that changed when Tom's ears picked up the sound of boots against the hard concrete and idle chatter. He pressed himself against the container, the other mimicking, and slowly looked around the corner. Two guards dressed in standard deep blue uniform stood ahead, back to him, talking about something Tom couldn't make out. The one thing he could make out, were the Pokeballs clipped to their belts where a firearm should be. Tom found it interesting that they chose that method, but with the sate of this world, he couldn't be too surprised. It left him at a disadvantage, not being able to disable them both and steal a weapon, but that wasn't something needed right now. Tom motioned to the group and slid along the side of the container away from the ferry, coming around the other side and silently advancing through the rows until he came to the one with the guards at the end, still engaged in their conversation, about sports apparently. They stood at the end of the container near the door which blocked their view of the group, letting Tom's eyes scan the ship's hull for any kind of opening.

It wasn't hard to miss the cargo door, currently lowered to the dock, unleashing a great blackness behind it. Without warning, the sound of an engine broke the silence of the night, advancing towards them. Tom quickly ran back around the container, the others following, Michaels eyes frantically looking for the source of the noise. It didn't take long as a forklift thundered past an opening in one of the rows ahead, the group jolting to a stop as the vehicle hurtled by. The driver hadn't noticed them with his head focused only ahead, but the group still ducked into the shadow of one of the containers, waiting for the sound of the forklift to fade away. Tom sighed in relief, but drew his eyes up to the edge of the dock through the rows of containers as he saw the forklift now head past the two guars. He ran to the end of the row and poked his head out, in time to see the forklift disappear into the cargo door of the ship. It took only a minute for it to return, but that minute tortured everyone, dreading the inevitable guard finding them lurking the shadows of the shipyard. The forklift drove away, gone of the crate it had been carrying, taking the same path it came by.

"Listen, we can't knock out, or kill, those two guards, that'd make it too obvious that something's gone wrong" He breathed quietly "We're going to move to the edge of these containers, then cause a distraction. When the guards are far enough away not to noticed, run to the ship". Tom explained it as simply as he could "Don't think, don't hesitate, just run and we'll all be okay". His words were more of reassurance to himself, but everyone nodded at the idea and followed him in his plan.

They all moved to the end of the container rows, the guards now almost close enough to touch, unnerving all of them but Tom, who steeled himself as he gently removed one of the candy bars from his pocket. He just needed to throw it hard enough and hope it landed where he wanted it to. He sucked in a deep breath and drew back his arm, lobbing the foil wrapped bar as hard as he could into the air. The silence that followed was terrifying, the object now spinning through the air, almost refusing to come back down. But within a second of waiting, a loud and dull clunk sounded through the yards. The two guards stopped in mid conversation, looking over towards where the bar had landed. One casually said they should check it out and walked off with his partner, resuming their talk of the Olivine Tauroses soccer team. Their steps got further and further until Tom saw them round the corner of the containers.

"Go!" He whispered urgently, his feet moving before he had finished speaking. Layla ran as best she could, her limp still weighting her down, Tom choosing to let her stick it out and matching her speed to stay beside her. Michael shot ahead of the two, his heart in his throat as he sprinted forward, pulse racing faster when he heard his feet hit the metal ramp and begin to send reverberating thuds through the metal. He saw nothing else but the darkness of the cargo hold in front of him as he ran, the lights becoming only dull shimmers as he threw himself forward. Will's joints ached from the sudden start, but he made it across with Michael. He almost found the situation, dare he say, exciting. It had been a while since he had truly gotten the adrenalin pumping through his mind.

Tom and Layla were the last to make it onboard, their feet thunking dully across the metal ramp. Tom ushered Layla in and turned his head to check outside. The two guards rounded the corner just as he did, making him yank his head back inside, swearing that one of the guards had glanced at him before he did. Michael and Will quickly waved him forward, running deeper into the dark cargo hold, darkness soon becoming an impenetrable veil. Tom ran alongside Layla, searching the darkness for any place to hide, but his eyes, despite adjusting for the darkness that enveloped them, could only make out small details. He saw the edges of tall, tightly stacked cargo containers against the hull, but nothing else.

Layla's sight was better, however. Her eyes soon illuminating the dark hold as if it were day. Streams of blue light coursed through the hold, flowing and twisting like a river around them all, The aura of the world. They soon came to a stop at the end of the hull, Michael with a thud as he impacted on the hard rusted wall climbing into the darkness, head spinning as he pulled himself up.

"Which way?" Michael panted, rubbing the pain from his skull, eyes scanning the blackness.

"I don't know, I can't see anything in this damn place..." Tom muttered, feet shifting as he swung his head around looking for a similar location. He froze as he heard a call echo into the hold.

"Yeah, I'll take a look...no, stay there and wait" The voice echoed. One of the guards stood in the entrance, a black silhouette against the light pouring into the hold, only to be stopped short by the shadows. His feet clunked on the floor as he entered, a small flashlight flicking on in his hand, throwing a beam of light through the hull.

"Dammit, move" Tom said quietly, starting off into the blackness against, weaving behind the rows of containers. He looked for anything, anything at all, that could help. He hadn't counted on this, it was an unplanned factor, something he hated.

"Over here" Layla called, breaking off from the group. No one could see where she ran, or where she was pointing, there wasn't much of a choice now. They followed her voice, edging along the ends of the containers, hearing her call. With a small spark, a soft blue light flickered into view only a few steps away, illuminating Layla's face. She stood by a container door left slightly ajar, holding the oily, slow burning flame of aura.

Without a word, they swung open the door and stepped in. The door creaked loudly, Michael's heart racing at the idea of the guard hearing that and running to them. Tom dragged the door shut again, the creaking louder this time, followed by a short clang as it slid into place, the hollow sound echoing through the space. The container was dark, hot and stuffy, smelling of stale water and iron. Michael moved to sit down but his hand brushed something warm. He turned and gasped as his eyes saw the form in the darkness. The outline of a person greeted him, shying away from his touch and shifting audibly. He stepped back a few paces, nearly striking out as a hand touched his shoulder. By now Tom and the others had noticed too, however, Layla stood stiffly, knowing what lay in here before entering but knowing she could still defend herself from it. The man laid a hand on Michael shoulder and turned him around to face him, the light from the aura ball Layla held throwing a soft light onto his old face. The old man had wild white hair and drooping eyes, his lips pursed tightly together. He silently brought a finger to his lips, glaring intently at Michael and the others, before moving back into the darkness and taking his place.

Michaels heart jumped again as he heard the steps coming down the rows of containers, the soft blue light swiftly extinguishing as Layla and the other stood as still a possible. The steps came closer, bringing a feeling of dread which settled over the entire closed space. A few of the people nervously shifted or whimpered slightly as the flashlight shone briefly over the door, sending a sliver of light through the opening. The moment seemed to last forever, although only a second or two, as the beam swept past and left, taking the haunting footsteps with it. A feeling of relief spread over the small collection of people, but the silence remained unbroken. The group awkwardly sat down against the door of the container, the lock having been oddly modified to open from the inside. Michael looked over the forms in the dark, all crammed into this one tiny container. His eyes could make out nothing, until a small lamp flickered to life from near the end of the area. The light was gentle enough as to not sting his eyes and filled the container with its yellow glow. All around him were people of all different ages and sizes. A number of trainers were among them, evident by the pokeballs clipped to their belts, but the rest were all just ordinary people, common in every way. Michael knew there was probably a story to each of them, something which drove them to these lengths. To smuggle themselves aboard a ship like this must have taken planning and money, most likely to those who knew how to run these operations. The old man who had greeted him before now sat silently by an old woman, her hair as white as his, skin pale and thin. They looked they like really weren't cut out for any of this, as if they had only the clothes on their back to keep them going. And if the price for them was the same and the price Tom had faced, it was probably true. The stale air was thick and smothering, smelling like some sort of festering disease the ship had taken on, but no one paid any attention. Everyone was far too busy just dealing with what they were doing or contemplating their futures, wondering what they would do after they left the ship, and hoping it came to that first.

It was a long night, and no one had anything to do. Boredom racked the container, sleep too hard to fall into and forget about it all. But as Michael, Tom, Layla and Will sat in the darkness of the vessel of their supposed salvation, time seemed to cease it's flow. In the darkness minutes became hours, or sometimes hours became seconds, and occasionally, it seemed as if both were true. The light burning near the back of the container had been shut off by the man who carried it, allowing others the scarce hope of sleep taking them. The darkness grew to be comforting, a sign of safety in the hostile vessel, one which made the occupants shy away from the light coming from under the door. Creaks and moans came and went as the ship gently floated, tossing and turning in it's iron slumber. The sound of footfalls from outside the container always brought dread upon the people, and they shushed any sounds, even breathing, that they made. But the footfalls always came and went without incident. Who, after all, would suspect one lone cargo container at the bottom of the end of a stack of hundreds of it's own kind to house so many desperate people looking for a ticket to theur loved ones or dreams?

The morning came with a long and drawn out creak, followed closely by an echoing smash. Some of the occupants looked up, others didn't bother. The sounds grew from creaks and moans of metal, to the harsh drone and chug of huge turbine engines. If anyone had been outside to see it, they would have realised that the ship had closed it's cargo door and was now slowly beginning it's journey. The ship was un-tethered from the docks and a small tugboat pulled it out of the harbour, dwarfing the ship in strength while the ship dwarfed it in size. With a slight lurch, amplified with how low in the ship they were housed, the sound of the oceans crashing waves filled the cargo hold. Some of the people gave silent gasps of relief, others stayed silent in hopes it wasn't a dream, and one or two wept at the prospect of going home. Michael, lying back against the cold wall of the container, had been staring at the same spot for hours on end, though he couldn't tell if they had been hours or seconds or even years. With the launching of the ship, he let out a shuddering breath of resolution. He knew that now, even though they knew nothing of how to escape this ship, it was his gilded prison which would lead to Melody. He looked over as he saw the man with the lamp had relit the gentle light, allowing his eyes to wander over the groups of people locked in with him. One boy was sitting with a tiny yellow mouse like creature in their lap, gently stroking it's fur while it slept. Only that boy and Tom were sitting with their Pokémon, the others choosing to keep them in their pokeballs, hoping not to cause any noise which could lead to discovery. Tom and Layla were both sitting against the door, as if guarding it like two stone statues who were once alive. They sat still, cross-legged with arms on their legs, Layla leaning her head against Tom's. Their eyes were closed in a light sleep, trying to rest as much as possible in the uncomfortable position, occasionally jostling lightly and cracking open an eye. Will was next to Michael, though he could hardly tell, as Will had been one of the few to attain the blessing of sleep. For the first few hours, or was it minutes? Will had been restless, fidgeting and trying to remain calm, fighting to keep his sanity in the black veiled boredom of the container. But occasionally the timelessness enveloped him too, and he had slipped into sleep at one point. Laying his head back against the cold, hard wall again, Michael closed his eyes.

The trip was long, sixteen hours of fighting the currents, hull silent all the while. For Michael, it was unknown when he had slipped into sleep, as the darkness around him matched the same one he would dream of. Only when he felt the sudden fall, the rush of wind and the blanket of warmth, did he know he was truly asleep again.

This time was different. He stepped down onto solid ground, carpeted with a rich red pattern. The room was dark but moonlight streamed through the window, soft breeze caressing his cheek and making him shiver slightly in the sudden chill. His mind soon turned to other things, wondering where he was now, how recent was this memory, and where could he find Melody in this new dreamscape. But as he turned and surveyed the room he had been dropped in, he found that this place was not new at all. The walls were solid wood, strong and glowing in the moonlight, while the window offered a great vista of the forest from above, where he could see moisture twinkling on the many blades of grass far below.

Looking around the room rapidly, he gasped as he saw her. Unlike in his previous dreams of searching and wandering, he did not have to move far to find what he sought. Behind him, bathed in the white glow of the moon, stood Melody, calm and serene. Her skin seemed radiant in the light, thin white bed sheet spread over her tender shoulders like a flowing gown. Her head was bowed slightly, as if she was waiting for something, eyes closed in patience as she waited out the night. Michael knew he could not feel her, and instead sat wearily on the unoccupied bed. He waited, the only sound in the room being Valerie's gentle breathing as she slumbered on the bed opposite. He did not notice her until she turned over, moaning gently in her sleep. Melody took no notice and stayed utterly still, shoulders rising and falling with each breath. With each second of silence, Michael's patience grew thinner. He wasn't a man who could not stand to wait, preferring to stay silent and calm until he obtained what he needed. But to be here now, with the one he loved so close and so real, it tortured him that she would not say a word.

"Speak..." He muttered despairingly "Some something....anything".

Melody didn't hear him, she never did when he was here. She just stayed stone still and waited, always waiting.

"Please talk to me...a word, a smile...anything..." He repeated, waiting for a reply that didn't come. Overcome with despair, he raised himself, and screamed at her "Talk to me!". He breathed shuddering and heavy breaths as his voice rang in his ears.

"...Michael..."

He heard her, he heard her voice. For the first time since he had seen her here, she had spoken.

"...I know...I know you're here...I've seen you" She said slowly "...I've seen you trying to find me...I know you can see me too". Michael almost wept as she spoke to him for the first time since she had left, as if he were right there beside her.

"I've been awake all night...saying this over and over every hour in hopes that you would hear it..." She croaked, her voice now breaking in near happiness at the thought he might be here. "I love you Michael, I want you to find me...please...I know it's far and you could be in danger...but please...come to Fortree...just come back to me". For every hour she had said his, and now he had heard it. The one short message that she could give to him no other way was enough for him to feel complete again. The words were spoken with such passion and loneliness that he almost fell to his knees just hearing them. But he caught himself, and with long strides, he stepped over to Melody and wrapped his arms around her intangible form, holding tightly to her as best he could. She stood silently in his embrace, knowing she had said the words that would be carried across time and space itself to the one she loved, who held her now, unknown to her.

Before the falling sensation once again took Michael, he softly planted a kiss on her forehead, hoping that somehow it would seal him in her memories. The blackness then took him, this time, without regrets.

Michael awoke to Tom shaking him gently in the dark, the only light coming from the small slit in the door and throwing light onto half of Tom's weathered face. Michael's haze of sleep was soon shaken out of him as he heard Tom's voice.

"It's been nearly sixteen hours" Tom explained, tapping his watch carefully "If we're getting off this boat, we need to do it now"

"How?" Michael asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and rolling his aching shoulders, trying to dispel the pain of sleeping on hard metal for hours on end.

"I did some thinking" Tom said "Layla's idea of swimming to the shore may not be so bad, bt we have to find a way down into somewhere where we can jump off without killing ourselves"

"Couldn't we just take a lifeboat?" Michael asked, for once wishing to take the easy way out and hang the consequences.

"They would notice one had gone missing and we can't afford someone seeing us in one of them" Tom explained. He held out a hand and pulled Michael to his feet. "The best bet is to find some kind of hatch to the outside of the ship"

"Where would we find something like that?" Will spoke up from behind Tom. In the dim light Michael could see how his wispy white hair was even wilder and his skin was dirty with grime.

"I don't know. We find a map and maybe we can find a way" Tom said, walking over to the door of the container and fiddling with the reversed latch. The door creaked open with an ominous scraping and Tom poked his head out, looking each way before beckoning the others out. Michael made to move, but a hand grabbed his shoulder. He saw it was the old man, the one who had told him to stay quiet, who now held him. The old man shook his head and looked with almost pleading eyes, as if begging him not to risk it.

"...Sorry..." Michael whispered, moving away and letting the old man's grasp fall away, following the others into the blackness of the hold.

The hold was dark. Darker than the container had been and made worse by the groaning of the hull, reminding them that they were in the deepest part of the belly of the beast which they now tried to escape from. Layla was Tom's eyes as he led the crew through the dark hold, showing them the way to the side of the hull and then continuing on until they reached an exit. They approached the side of the hold which contained a door, which they hoped would lead upwards to the other decks, small lights breaking through the darkness. The lights were screwed into the wall, throwing the same dim yellow light which the container had been filled with only minutes ago, illuminating only a tiny part of the floor and letting the rest seem like an ocean of black. A small map hung on the wall beside the door, encased in plastic, which showed the various decks and told crew of their facilities. The hold was the lowest part of the ship, spanning the entire length as the final deck. Above it was the engine rooms, taking the rear of the deck with the crew quarters being in front. Above that were the services quarters, and above that were the passenger rooms. The top deck container services such as a restraint and small shop, and above that the bridge, but that was of little interest to Tom. He only wanted the lowest part of the ship which would be the likeliest to have some way out. His finger stuck on one area of the map, deciding their destination. The crew quarters. It was close to the bottom and would hopefully have latched windows, making for an easy dive down into the water. The only problem, which he explained to them, was that the crew quarters were most likely filled with sleeping crew members, hoping most would be relaxing while others worked their shift in the engine rooms and such.

The door was swung open, rusty handle taking a bit of effort to move and hinges screeching like a banshee as they were roused. Tom and Layla were again the two heading the expedition, Tom's reflexes becoming razor sharp and Layla's vision aiding in the low lighted areas. The group crept silently up the flight of stairs to the next floor, ignoring the warning signs and "Authorised crew only" displays. The second floor split into a junction at the stairs. One went left to the engine rooms while the other went right to where they wanted, the crew quarters. Tom shushed everyone, despite no noise being made, the tension gripping them all and stifling them, so that they would not draw attention. The door to the crew quarters were out of place on the wall of the junction hallway, being a clean painted white metal door with only small smudges of black to mar it's surface, seemingly maintained very well.

They stepped through the door, cursing the small creak it made as it swung on its hinges, scared that even one man may be roused from the rooms lining the deserted corridor. The long line of rooms was painted with white door and white walls, navy blue carpet stretching out along the floor. The light of the hall was near blinding as they came from the muted low power lighting into the sudden burst of 100 watt incandescent bulbs. With padded footfalls, trying to move as fast as possible without noise, they made their way along the corridor. Occasionally, the corridor split off into smaller corridors lined with the same rooms. They followed these smaller corridors until they were where Tom was sure to be the side of the ship. The only matter that now remained was to find an unoccupied room, which was easier said than done in this situation. They couldn't see into any of the rooms, all doors closed and any occupants hidden, making it difficult to find a room they could use. They waded up and down the corridor, knowing time was of the essence but too cautious to simply try to barge into a room, making everyone's mind grow more on edge with each passing footfall.

Luck smiled on them, for once, however, as the creak of a door sounded one of the crew leaving their cabin. Tom pulled the group back into a smaller hallway as he heard the sound, peeking around to see that the crewmember was, thankfully, heading off in the opposite direction, dressed in workman's overalls.

"Let's go" Tom whispered as the man rounded a corner at the end of the corridor, moving with haste to the door and yanking it open. The door creaked and protested with its screams but nobody minded as they swiftly moved inside, shutting the door tightly behind.

The room was cramped, with only a single bed and small set out draws underneath, a bedside light built into the wall. There was one window adorning the far wall, projecting twinkles of starlight which danced through the glass within the night sky. Tom yanked at the window, cursing as he found it bolted shut, meaning it was only meant to be a viewport. Smashing the glass was out of the question, no one could afford to shred themselves on the shards, especially with the salt water below. The bolts had no head with which a screwdriver or wrench could be levered into, and the metal was too thick to be pried off. His mind clicked as he remembered Layla, calling her to try what she had used on the fence while at the docks. Layla silently complied, realising the value of stealth and silence here, and placed her paws on the metal frame, once again letting the blue fire spread over it. But the metal did not crumble like the weakened chain link fence had done, the surface only becoming blackened with thick sooty powder.

"It isn't working..." Layla said, about to remove her hands. Tom touched her arm slightly.

"Keep trying" He said, noting how the soot became thicker as Layla held her paws to the metal ring. She gave him an odd look, but complied, continuing to let out a steady stream of concentrated aura.

The metal ring blackened further, but stayed rigid and immoveable. Will reached over as Layla was working and rubbed off a piece of the black powder, the material sliding over his fingers like sand as he stared out at. He lifted his finger to his nose and sniffed slightly, his eyes turning questioning as he looked at the black substance.

"It seems like Iron" He said, looking at Layla as more soot accumulated on the porthole, watching the fascinating swirling energy he knew made so little sense. He saw a chip of the blackened material fall away in a clump, speaking to Layla with realisation.

"Keep doing that" He said "Somehow, it's impossible by all means of common science, but you're turning that metal into some kind of iron oxide powder". Layla looked at Will oddly, not knowing what the elder was talking about when he told her of iron oxide powder. "Just keep going, you're weakening the metal" he settled on the simplest explanation.

The black expanse on the porthole kept growing, the glass soon beginning to shift in the new mould. But it was too slow for Tom, who knew that anyone could come through the door at any time. He tapped his foot, shuffled and paced in the little space he had for such things, trying, and failing, to calm his nerves. The Port hole wasn't even near halfway done by the time five minutes had past, and Tom could no longer stand by and wait for the blasted thing to rot. He nudged Layla slightly, letting her move away, looking at him oddly, wondering what he meant to do. Tom raised his leg and drove it hard into the edge of the porthole, the impact resonating with a loud ping and crack, but the porthole stayed in place. He kicked again, and again the porthole stayed still. Will was about to speak up against the outlandish and loud behaviour in a situation in which Tom himself had emphasised stealth, but stopped when he saw the black powder beginning to fall from the bolts of the porthole. With every strike, more would pour off, and soon, small chips of good iron began to crack and occasionally break off. Tom was panting with effort and his leg ached terribly from the rhythmic jarring, but he knew, despite scolding himself for this before what he knew would be a long, and likely cold, swim, that soon something would have to give. He just hoped Layla had weakened it enough for him to remove it. One of the bolts flung away from the porthole, soon followed by another, their ends slightly black and weakened. With one last kick, the porthole lost its second to last bolt, letting it swing like a pendulum out of the way, and leaving a gaping hole in the wall.

Tom breathed heavily, sticking his head out the window to try and sight land, the salty sea air helping to slightly re-energise him. The sky was darkened and the stars of the galaxy shone above them, resting like a crown over the shore ahead of them. Despite being able to see the shore, the distance was far greater than it seemed, and it would take them a long time to reach. Michael peered out the window through the gap Tom's head left, seeing the darkness of the churning ocean beyond. The time he had spent in the hold, the time spent in total blackness with only the occasional glimmer of light, was now as if he had simply frozen himself in time and only now stepped back into the present. Surely the day had come and gone already, it being late at night when they had finally smuggled themselves aboard the ship, and the day passing them without a drop of radiant sunlight to greet them in their dank prison down below. It was disorientating for it to seem like they had never moved at all.

"Right, the drop isn't too bad, just make sure to try and dive so you don't hurt yourselves" Tom said as he looked down to see the churning water below, sliced in two by the raging ship that ploughed through it. If the air was any indication of how cold it would be, Tom did not savour the thought of it. "You all go first, I'll be the last down".

Michael, Will and Layla were unsure about who was to go first. Layla was injured, and she hoped to go before Tom in case she hurt herself when she hit the water. Will did not like the idea of even sneaking on board in the first place, let alone abandoning ship in the most direct away possible. Michael hesitated, knowing the drop and cold could kill nearly all that lived out of such places. But something drove him to go first, striding over to the porthole without thinking, and without giving fear time to take a grip in his mind, and to ignore the salt wind that bit at his cheeks as he bent through the newly opened hole. The hole was small enough that he had to worm his way through, balancing precariously in the middle, mind racing as his weight slowly tipped his body forward and pulled it down. The fall was sudden as gravity took it's toll, as he felt his legs slip through the hole suddenly and his body begin to tumble into weightlessness. The fall was greater than anything he had done, and the longer he spent in the air the more the airy feeling in his head grew, soon filling his mind and feeling as if his skull would burst at the pressure of it. The impact of the water broke this feeling, the liquid feeling almost warm as it rushed over him and embraced him, before the chill bit at his skin like thousands of tiny teeth. The sting of the icy water was as if the ocean was trying to devour him alive, stripping flesh from bone. His flailing through the water soon brought him back to the surface, where the cold made him gasp sharply and convulse in the water as if to shake off the bitter feeling around him. He heard a second splash before he saw Will fall from the porthole, the ship now slightly further away. He forgot his cold and swam over to Will, who repeated the same sharp intake of breath he had when he had resurfaced. The old man was shivering profusely, his skins crawling with Goosebumps from the chill. A third and forth splash sounded one after the other, signalling Layla and Tom's arrival into the cold arms of the ocean.

Layla, despite her thick fur, felt the hard bite of the freezing water. Her leg dully ached in the water and any cuts that had not completely healed now stung like fire as saltwater cleansed them. Tom was beside her, both staying close as to make sure the other did not slip under. Tom kept his head above the water and called to the others as they gathered near.

"Now swim!" He said, his voice sounding oddly hollow in the silence that now surrounded them. There was no roar of the tides or rumble of the currents, only a lonely silence broken by the splashes as their arms pushed them forward and towards the distant shore. The sea breeze was not enough that it churned the oceans like a tempest, but left a hollow whistling in their ears and washed cold currents over their exposed bodies. The water seemed as if it had warmed, being like a relaxing bath compared to the wind which now assaulted them with taunting subtleness. Their arms and legs ached as they continued on, the water sapping their strength and eventually becoming like syrp for their limbs to slug through. Will was the frailest of them all, but kept his own for most of the trek. When he slipped under the water for a second, Michael put an arm under his, and tried to help guide him along. Layla's leg went from aching to numb to a great throbbing pain, and her cuts and bruises stun whenever water washed over them. Her thick coat was matted and water logged by now, acting as if it were a lead weight for her. Her kind did swim in the lakes when possible, and were adept at catching fish that swam through the rivers, but this was something her kind was not built for. The water suffocated her and stole her warmth. Tom was stoon forced to carry her as best he could in the nearly bottomless ocean, dragging her onto his back where she held around his neck with her arms. Her kicks helped movement, but came at the price of hot pain that did not serve to even warm her up.

Time was lost to them as they swam and by the time their feet touched solid sand beneath the now forming waves an eternity could have passed and they would have believed it. The waves lifted them off their feet, tumbling their bodies, too tired and cold to fight it, to the shore. They were thrown harshly onto the sand, left panting as the water receded, only to wash over them again like a lapping dog. Michael's hair had fallen over his eyes, being both drenched in dire need of a cut now, and blinded his vision. Will was almost a vision of death, made real by the pale starlight which shone down on his now blue tinged skin and quivering frame. Tom's muscles burned from effort, having not completed a marathon the like of that in years. He felt the weight on his back, no longer clinging to him but lying in exhaustion. Layla's head rested against the soaked fabric of Tom's shirt, breath coming in gasps as the wind ruffled her drenched fur which served little purpose now.

They lay there for a few minutes until Michael found the strength to push himself up, dragging Will onto his shoulders. Tom did the same, Layla protesting she would walk with them and standing shakily on her feet. Michael began their trek down the beach, sand flowing in from of them to meet only dark cliffs which stretched far too high for them to be scaled. The sand sparkled in the starlight and the ambience around them had become a symphony of roaring waves, shifting sand and gently whistling wind. It would have seemed beautiful if it weren't so harsh against their wet skin as they trudged on.



Camp was set up near the base of a cliff inside a small indent which would shield them, although only marginally, from the gentle breeze and cool nights air. There was no fire to warm them. Impossible with the lack of tools or materials, and in the wet state everyone happened to be in, and, to Will's disappointment, aura fire was in no ways warm or comforting. The night passed restlessly, with constant waking to the call of a wild Pokémon near the shore or a particularly cold wind bellowing through the small cavern. Although it seemed cruel to do so, Layla and Tom held on to each other through the night, for warmth, they insisted, which let them slowly regain the feeling in their limbs that had been once numb from sheer cold. Will had been huddled close to the wall, trying his best to escape the cold, his old, thin veined hands trembling. Michael stayed awake, the cold seeming secondary to him as a great relief and longing came over him. He wanted to leave the cave, run to fortree and find Melody, to hold again through the night. But it was clear that no one was fit to travel right now.



The cave was left but no one was any better. The sleepless night had felt more tiring than walking to Fortree immediately, with the constant waking and turning on hard rocky floors. Will seemed pale, his skin thinner and more translucent than before. He shivered when the wind blew against him and seemed as if he would topple over, or snap, like the lightest twig. Layla's leg ached less from the cold and now more from the walking, growing more painful with each step. The medicine which she had been taking to dull the pain had been lost in the ocean, tablets utterly dissolved in Tom's pocket as the ocean swept them to shore.

They carried on around the coast, rock cliffs towering above them with no steps carved or ways to traverse the rock face. The longer they walked, the more they thought they had been stranded on the edge of paradise in an eternal purgatory of watching the trees dance hauntingly above the heavenly cliff tops. It took half a day of travel before they reached a dock, in which steps were carved into the rock face which led onto a path surrounded by great green grass and forestry. They had asked a young woman sitting on the dock where this was, and she had told them

"The dock to mount Pyre" she had told them, almost happy when she told them "It's the resting place of all Pokémon spirits in Hoenn". Dressed in deep purples and black, she seemed oddly gothic, yet her smile said otherwise.

They travelled wordlessly for the next day. The silence was almost comforting, and breaking it, it seemed, would shatter the world around them as if it were the frailest porcelain. Michael's vision now drove him harder than ever before, having seen her and now knowing he was close. He was so close he could almost feel her there with him, but almost wasn't good enough. He wanted touch her, to hold her and to feel her again. The only time they stopped was when their hunger became far too great for them to bear. Tom, thankfully, had managed to hold on to a small stash of candy bars from a day ago when they were hundreds of miles across the sea in Johto. They ate them silently and thankfully, and Layla, who wasn't thrilled by the taste of chocolate on her canine pallet, instead searched the forest for food. They were all called when she had found a small creek, explaining how her tribe always knew that creeks and rivers flowed to the sea and it was their route when travelling up to and down from the mountains. She stood in the river catching, with bare claws, reflexes near instantaneous, oddly coloured fish. The fish themselves were Pokémon, but with how underdeveloped they were compared to Layla and Melody, it was not surprising they were eaten as food. Tom tried to catch the fish with her, not caring for his clothes after they had remained damp from the sea. He stood with her, thrashing and striking, trying to hit something other than a rock than nearly broke his hand. They laughed at their efforts while Will and Michael sat in the warm Hoenn sun, the air humid with the smell of the forest on its back. Tom and Layla for the first time in what seemed to be an age, sparred with each other. But it was less of a spar and more of a playful scuffle after jabbing the others fishing abilities. None the less, they found it enjoyable to move swiftly and fall through the cool creek water, trying to best each other at every turn. Layla's leg was down to a dull ache that was more annoying than it was crippling, the cool water of the creek soothing it in a way that the icy waters of the ocean refused to.

It didn't matter how wet the other became, because as they walked the sun dried their clothes and Layla's fur, leaving it comically bushy from the lack of care. They walked close to Will, who was regaining colour from the exertion the day before, but still faintly weaker than he should have been. His skin was still paled and he shivered even in the sunlight, body aching all over and forehead feeling hot to the touch. He insisted he could rest once they were at Fortree, which was now only a short way from. Through the puddles of recent rainfall and over the bridges of the main river, encountering trainers who seemed annoyingly determined to try and battle Layla, who was surely a rarity for their sight. Tom was imposing enough to scare them off when they became too determined, and Layla knew she could dispatch of any Pokémon sent at her fast enough for Tom to "dissuade" the trainer from continuing.

As the sun set and the wind grew crisper, the great city came into vision. From Michael's vision now painted into reality, they saw trees which towered above the forest; huts nestled around the solid shafts of hardwood. Smoke curled from the chimneys of the huts and the leaves around the walkways above the canopy swayed in the breeze. The smoke grew thicker as they approached, billowing black and oily through the air. Michael became uneasy as he saw this. A feeling gnawed at his gut and he grew anxious, waiting for something to happen or someone to say something. The smoke poured thicker into the sky and he received no answer for the anxiety he felt. His pace quickened as he wordlessly advanced, soon growing to a run and then a sprint as he felt the city call to him from behind dark shifting clouds. The calls of Tom for him to wait for them all were drowned out by the rushing of wind in his ears as he moved towards where Melody was waiting.

All was not right in Fortree.