The cold, dank dungeon offended nearly every one of their senses as they sat in silence, time meaning nothing to them in the place. The air was moist and smelt of mildew and mould while the floor was cold and hard, stony underneath their touch, small puddles of stale water pooled in some areas. It was dark enough that they could not see their hands in front of their faces, one small ray of light coming from the slit in the steel door which had been left open, the only sounds audible from outside being a low hum of cheap electric lighting. Michael's clothes stuck to his skin, damp from both sweat and the moisture in the air, the room becoming uncomfortably humid as he and Tom rested. Tom was still lying on the ground, the cuts on his face long stopped bleeding, but leaving him in no less of a sorry state, letting himself rest a little with the thought of being here for a while. Michael winced as he moved his head, the pain in the back of his skull still throbbing, warm and dull. Despite the shackles, only one arm had been secured, letting him reach up and rub the tender spot beneath his damp hair. He felt the congealed blood and the sting of the wound under it, dropping his arm to side his side again and sighing deeply. He hardly felt anything right now, the torrent of fear, anger, sadness, anxiousness all drowning each other out until he could think of nothing. But at the back of his mind, he worried. He worried about Melody, where she was, if she had been hurt. Anger flickered through his mind whenever he thought of the threats about her that Sting had made, but it faded quickly when he realised his own helplessness and turned his mind back to Melody. He closed his eyes and relaxed, one of the only things he could do now, letting his mind retreat into idleness. He felt that worry at the back of his mind itch, trying to draw him back to reality, like a bug crawling through his mind. But the itch grew, agitating him as he lay in the darkness, soon becoming something he wished he could reach out and grab to silence it. His eyes opened suddenly as he unknowingly did, or at least that was how he had felt. For a brief moment, he had touched that itch at the back of his mind, relieving it for a second and feeling that small presence in his mind calm itself. The worry that he felt now wad different than what he had touched, and it still ached in in chest, but there was something else.


He leaned back against the wall and let himself relax again, if only now to forget the worry that had assaulted him as he had tensed again. That itch returned, nagging at the base of his skull, irritating his mind once more. This time he tried to reach out again, a feeling like his mind was straining to concentrate on some complex problem, wading through the viscous sea of dormant thoughts that hung around his head so often. He didn't know how long it took to finally touch that tiny itch, feeling like his mind had pushed beyond his head, through flesh and bone, and now hung somewhere outside his body, like he was dreaming. That itch calmed itself again, feeling almost like a presence, something tangible beside his floating mind. The only way he could describe it to himself was like a small light or wisp of clouds that moved through his own mind, encircling it like a blanket, and at the same time, his own consciousness moved in tandem with it, surrounding it as it did him. He didn't feel the worry anymore, he didn't feel nothing either, he felt calm against whatever had invaded his mind. It was only when he heard something far beyond him ring, a sound that was high and distorted to almost a whine. For a moment, or maybe an hour, he didn't know, he ignored it. But soon it drew him away from that presence in his head despite how much he fought to focus back to it, feeling it shrink and begin to itch again, as if it was angry, or perhaps sad, that he had left. Finally he heard the voice clearly, his mind making an excited leap back to consciousness as it cleared and separated into two tones that formed a beautiful pitch.


"Please tell me you're there..." it said, Michael knowing who it was before he even answered.


"Melody...where...where are you?" He said, coming out as a whisper before growing louder, announcing himself loudly to the walls around him


"Can you look outside?..." she said sadly, confusing Michael for a second before he realised she was talking about the slit in the door. He stood and tried to walk, feeling the sudden tug against his wrist, the short chain letting him stand but not take even one step towards the door, leaving him simply gaze through the door slit only a few steps away.


"Where are you?...." he said, his voice trembling slightly.


"Here..." She said dejectedly, Michael catching her gaze as she stood behind a metal door across the hall from wherever his cell was, slit in the door also open, letting him see her solemn gaze through the tiny view of freedom that separated each other. The harsh yellow light that filtered through into her own cell illuminated her pale face, a shadow cast over her eyes, only visible from the light glinting off her trembling and tear stricken face.


"You're okay..." Michael sighed raggedly, thankful that they hadn't harmed her. "...is Layla there too?"


"Yes but...she's asleep." Melody said, surprised and at the same time admiring that Layla could sleep during such a dire time. Tom looked up, turning his head with a small wince.


"Don't worry; she's tough as I am...hah, maybe even more. It takes more than life or death to scare either of us." He laughed, sounding like a sickly cough, laying his head back down the cold stone floor, taking away some of the throbbing heat in his face.


"Melody...do you know where we are?" Michael asked, hoping she would be able to remember something or see something that he couldn't. The look on her face told him otherwise.


"No...I can't even see out of this cell." She said sadly, shaking her head. "And it wouldn't even make a difference if I could open the door..." The chain around her arm clattered over the hard floor as she strained against it for a second, giving up. She knew she might be able to break it, she knew she might even be able to do it for the others, but in the end she also knew that trying to escape right now was foolish, and would perhaps turn out to be a deadly mistake.


"I was worried about you..." Michael said after a moment of silence between them. "Sting says he'll...just don't try to stop them from taking us right now." Any attempt of rebellion right now meant punishment for Melody or Layla, it was the weakness used against them, and a strong one. He sat again, letting the cool of the wall seep into his shirt as he laid back, silence filling the room.


"...I felt something a while ago..." Melody said through the silence. "I was scared...weak...but then I felt it touch me..." Her voice was edged with sorrow, or perhaps happiness, Michael finding it odd how the two emotions could sound so similar. "It...it came back, and it made me feel like...like I was going to be fine..."


"....maybe it was-" Michael was cut off by the sudden sound of a door swinging open, old rusty hinges creaking and screeching. There was a loud rapping of something on his cell door, two piercing eyes staring through the slit at him.


"No talking between cells..." The man said, his voice deep and aged, like someone who had been in combat one too many times. As he moved to unlock the door, Michael saw another man with him, a solider, slide shut the viewport on Melody's cell, her frightened eyes the last thing he saw before she vanished behind the hard steel. The door swung open, two men stepping inside, one being the soldier Michael had just seen, the other being a man who seemed in some way familiar. He wore only a dirty white undershirt and scuffled brown fatigue pants, his hair the standard military style, short and direct, away from his square face, stubble scattered across his jaw. He walked to Michael and grabbed his free hand, twisting it behind his back before adding a pair of steel handcuffs and undoing the shackle over Michael's left wrist. The soldier beside him dragged Tom to his feet, cuffing him all the same. Tom didn't resist, even with knowing he could possibly take on the two men in close quarters combat despite their military training, instead allowing himself to be pulled out of the room along with Michael. Casting a glance at the cell across from theirs, he turned his head to the hallway, as cold and damp as the cell moments before.


The two were led up the stairs, the lights changing from cheap, humming fluorescents to neatly placed bulbs, covered by a lavish dome of glass. The change was slightly jarring, having come from a place befitting of an old castle into somewhere so modern. However, soon they were shunted through two double doors into an area of gleaming white. Stainless steel benches ran across the walls, broken occasionally by a stove or oven, cooking utensils hanging from racks above them. On one side of the room a large steel door opened, metal thick as Michaels arm, before they were shunted inside. The air became cool and damp again, but lacked the pungent smell of rot that the cell had possessed. The walls were the same cold grey steel as the door, the floor wet with small puddles of icy water, a single plastic chair sitting in the middle of the room. The man who had held Michael spoke to the soldier briefly, who stepped out, closing the heavy door behind him. The older man sighed for a moment, walking over to the two and sitting down on the chair, folding his arms.


"You're the buggers that the daft idiot was looking for..." he said simply, sliding a hand into his pocket and removing a small packet of cigarettes, slipping one into his mouth as he spoke. "Stupid civilians getting caught up in these things...never easy for us, you know. Smoke?" He held the packet out, neither taking the offer up.


"Get to the point of this." Tom said, the man pocketing the pack, removing a matchbox and striking one to light his cigarette with. He took one long drawn out drag on it before answering.


"You two are worth something to him. I know you're some guy from his past he's pissed off at, but I don't know about your friend here." He said, Tom eying him cautiously. "We can keep you or kill you, there's not much else to do with two people who we're going out of our way to keep, people that aren't even of tactical value..."


"Sting won't let you kill us..." Michael said slowly, seeing the man turn to him, looking at him lazily but hiding something behind the glance. "He wants us alive for fun...he's a mercenary and wants Tom dead, but he's a sadist as well..."


"I'd rather just get the job done but hopefully he won't drag out your death for too long." The man said, his words sending a short wave of terror through Michael at the thought of a long and tortuous death. "He's more trouble than he's worth sometimes..."


"So get rid of him, you're the sergeant here aren't you? Tom said, thinking of how easy to could be for this man to dismiss Sting, and resist him if he fought back about it.


"Colonel." He corrected, taking another short puff. "And he's an asset to us, one of the best we've had in our unit."


"He's not an asset, he's a threat. He's working for two criminal organizations already and you've just fallen into-"Tom was cut off as Michael spoke up.


"...You're afraid of him." Michael said, looking straight into the coronels eyes, finding unease behind the two battle scared orbs. "He's too dangerous...but you can't do anything about him now because he's in control of too much."


"My men are still my own." The colonel said definitively. "If I tell them to march then they'll march. When I tell them to dance, they ask me "What tune, sir?""


"They must be afraid of him too; everyone must be if you haven't done anything about it. He's got too much power over you and your men...it's Machiavellian." Michael chided. The colonel put a hand to his brow, rubbing slightly to ease the tension.


"He's too much, but he's said he can get us back to command, so we're hoping this plays out of the best." He said. "Aren't you two looking for some way to get back to earth, our earth?"


"How do you know I'm from earth?" Michael asked.


"It's a funny coincidence that Sting said he found you hiding in an old farmhouse about fifty miles from where we were stationed...we had checked that house only days before, and he had come back to look for you after he assaulted the place, seemed like you'd been there for a small while..." He said, smiling at the look on Michaels face, stamping his thick leather boot on the floor as he explained. "I'm the one who searched that place with my men, I was sure there was someone there but you evidently did a nice job in hiding...if we hadn't spotted one of those great flying beasts and left to pursue it, we would have found you."


"...I thought...that voice...you were the one kicking the bed against the wall, weren't you?" Michael asked, the coronel nodding.


"and I assume you were under it?...probably protecting one of the creatures we've got locked up with you." He said.


"They're not just creatures they're...they're intelligent like us." Michael said, the word creature sounding sterile and clinical to him.


"They're not normal for me, or you for that matter, and they're too powerful for their own good. You grew up on earth, remember that." He said, dropping the stub of a cigarette and grinding it out with his boot, face turning cold again. "But now you're going to help me."


"You said it'd be easier to kill us, now you're putting us to work?" Tom questioned.


"I think when I say you're helping me; you know what I'm talking about...." He said. "Your friend of yours...he thinks he's got you where he wants you, he's got everyone under wraps, but he doesn't think that both of us could suddenly turn."


"Chances are he does, he's not the kind of man to leave something unfinished." Tom said, the coronel brushing it off.


"Look, you two are one shout away from a bullet..." He calmly threatened, maintaining the cold stare. "You two are outsiders; you're both resources I can use without having to protect..."


"You're going to ask us to help take out sting?" Tom said, the coronel shooting him a smug look.


"Did I make it that obvious?" he mocked. "You two know how much of a threat he is, to all of us. If you help me, then you can all go free, we'll even let your leave without holding you for technically being citizens of earth..." Tom glared at the coronel, his gaze matching the icy intensity of contempt that emanated from Tom's eyes.


"What does he want here?" Michael said, the coronel breaking the scowl to look at him. "He lead you here...why?"


"What he wants with a derelict city like this is beyond me..." he said, a smug grin growing on his face. "But I'm not stupid enough to work for someone whose plan is kept a secret to me, I've been monitoring communications between him that those two 'Aqua' and 'Magma' syndicates that he's ultimately working for...we were just offered a way back to earth."


"Does he think this is the place he can get you back?" Tom asked, the coronel chuckling harshly.


"He's not a man of generosity, he wouldn't come here just to let us back to earth...no, he wants something, him and that syndicate." He said, pausing to look around, checking for something despite the fact that the makeshift cell appeared completely empty. "He wants whatever's in the middle of this thing, and he's completely sure there's something there. Those two syndicates want power, through land and resources mostly, including those...Pokémon...that roam about here."


"You still haven't told us what he's after..." Tom said. The coronel gave him a look as if he were stupid, but continued anyway.


"The core of this thing, we've sent some men into it and they've never come back out. But we've discovered a small....ah, threshold only a few blocks before the centre of this city. When our men stepped past this barrier, they vanished into thin air, and we know it can't be the warped topology of this area, we've noticed how you can walk into one zone and end up in another as well as you have...but these men ceased radio contact completely." He said, hard stare etching onto his face yet again. "You two must be smart cookies to have survived here, so what does the fact that several men have disappeared into thin air combined with the fact that we were actually sent in to investigate the place indicate?" Michael spoke slowly, piecing together what was just said along with what he had seen before this whole event


"He's looking for that Pokémon that closed the portal above the temple..." He said, the coronel perking his brow upon hearing this.


"I knew that he was after a Pokémon, that was stated in the transmissions...but you said that this one can close those portals?" He said slyly, Michael wishing he had stayed quiet and played stupid now. "It seems he might plan on using this Pokémon to stop this...and perhaps secure some power for himself, after he lets us leave."


"If he lets you leave." Tom said, knowing Sting would not easily give up anything that he considered useful or worth something. "You said it yourself, he's not a generous man..."


"And that's where you two come in..." He said, leaning back in the old plastic chair, the leg's squeaking slightly under his weight. "You two are going to help me take care of him, and then we can take this creature down and get back to earth, you two will be free to leave when we're gone. There's really no downside to this choice..." The word 'choice' was only courteous here and all three knew it. If they declined, Sting would most likely kill them, or the coronel would do so anyway, finding a way to take care of Sting afterwards. Tom glanced at Michael, silent as he stared, waiting for him. Michael made the choice, what little choice there was, wanting to leave and continue the journey to supposed salvation as soon as possible.


"...What do we have to do?" He asked with a sigh, the colonel grinning in an off manner.


"You'll be taken back to your cells, when the time is right some soldiers will come and collect you, they'll blindfold you and lead you away. You'll be taken and dumped in a building only a few blocks up from here, that's where you'll wait. Sting will be informed you have escaped when he overhears me talking with another officer and go after you. You'll be armed with a pistol each for defence, but a group of my men are going to be stationed near you, ready to kill him. You'll be taken back here after he's dead, we'll have killed off his aqua and magma associates before you return and make up some excuse about the causalities when we contact them again. After that, you'll walk free out of this city..." He explained, calm as if he had run it through his head a thousand times, factoring in every possible variable and deviation. The perfect plan to kill a single man.


"Why haven't you already done it? Why not just kill off his men and take him out afterwards, you've got the forces?" Tom asked.


"You know him, you should know how skilled he is at killing people. He uses guerrilla tactics, he plans ahead as well, we've found wired explosives hidden inside our vehicles, something we suspect was his doing. He doesn't know we've removed them, but the risk that he's planned too well for betrayal by us is what's stopped us." He explained, Tom realising just how afraid this group seemed to be of sting, something he couldn't blame them for after working with him for longer than any of them. "If we ever did kill him, his own men are a threat, and if we kill them, he's a threat. But with you two, we can do both at the same time, without giving him a chance to report our actions to anyone higher up in those organizations." The colonel stood as he finished, opening the door and calling in the same soldier who had taken them from their cells. Michael and Tom were cuffed again and led back down the hallway they came from.


Despite the promise of freedom, the feeling of descending the stairs back into the cold, dark cell made Michael feel like running, knowing that all hope of escape and freedom would be lost for however long it took them to be collected again. But he kept silent as he was lead down into the cold stone hallways and back behind the iron door of his and Tom's cell, shackle being cuffed onto one hand before the soldier and the colonel left. The door crashed shut, the lock clicking, and darkness coming once more. They had been kind enough to leave the small viewport open in the door, letting the same harsh light trickle into the cell. Michael sat with his arms over his knees, letting his head fall to his chest as he closed his eyes.


"Where did you go?..." a voice asked him. He looked up at the door, realising it came from Melody in her cell.


"They didn't hurt us..." Michael said as he stood, body tired already. "But they offered us a way out." Two red eyes glinted in the darkness, moving behind Melody, the light now illuminating Layla's muzzle, leaving the rest of her obscured.


"Where's Tom, is he okay?" She suddenly blurted, Michael looking over to Tom who know sat just behind him in the shadows.


"I'm fine." Tom called, answering for himself. "Takes more than something like this to knock either of us down, doesn't it?" Layla allowed a small smile to form on her face, sighing proudly.


"It does..." She agreed, looking back to Michael. "You said we could get out of here...what did they say?"


"The colonel, the man who came and took us away, he wants..." Michael paused for a moment, composing himself before he answered confidently. "He wants us to help him kill Sting and say's we can go free if we help."


"I wish I could be there to see it...but how are you going to kill him?" Layla asked. She knew Sting only as a tricky human who killed without regard for age, race or species, a force of death.


"We're...actually a distraction." Michael admitted, Layla's hope in the plan flickering slightly. "The coronel says if we distract him, then his own men can kill Sting-"


"But what if he kills you?" Layla interrupted, narrowing her eyes. "We can't help if...there's too many ways this could go wrong."


"You're not coming." Tom announced from behind Michael, Layla's face turning to a slight scowl.


"You're leaving me...-us here?" She asked desperately. "I'm not staying if you could get killed!"


"We're the only ones going; it's too suspicious if we all escape without a commotion." Tom argued. "You'll be safe here-"


"I don't want to be safe here!" Layla shouted, the shackle on her wrist clattering against the floor as she tried to move closer to the door. "I've protected you since I joined, I was ordered to, and when I joined you, you protected me! It's how a pack works!"


"I don't want to be alone here either..." Melody said, her voice a whisper compared to Layla's. Michael sighed, Tom rubbing his face tiredly as he relaxed against the stone wall.


"Sometime packs break apart for a while, it's just how it has to be..." Tom said, Michael turning his eyes to melody.


"I don't want you to be hurt somehow..." He said, Melody shaking her head sadly.


"I don't want you to be hurt either..." She said, mimicking him. "You promised we'd get through everything, and you said we might be able to find each other somehow, how can that happen if you go away?"


"It's only for a few hours. We'll be back, and then we can go free, we'll keep working on it from there." Michael said, trying to reassure her, his voice lowering into the most soothing tone he could muster given the situation. "I know what I promised, and I think I'm finally starting to fulfil that." Michael tapped the side of his head and gave a weak smile. "Remember what you felt? Something calmed you down...well...me too."


"B-but if you don't come back..." Melody stuttered, remembering the small time she spent in captivity under Aqua and Magma. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, but they had a goal, the men in this place would not treat captured Pokémon as kindly.


"We will, don't worry, it only makes things seem worse..." Michael said, sitting back down on the cold stone floor. "...Melody, it's going to happen no matter what...but if you want, we can spend the time before it together."


"...do you want to try it again?" Melody asked, Michael lying his head back against the stone wall and closing his eyes.


"Sure...maybe it'll be easier this time." He said, letting the darkness take his mind away into the floating realm of nothingness. For a moment his mind wandered freely, the darkness encompassing it and releasing him from everything on the outside. It came like a buzz, again, an itch which drew his mind away from his own thoughts and worries to somewhere away from his body. He felt as if his being passed through the walls, which seemed nothing more than thick veils of his own thought and emotion. He saw it, or felt it, he couldn't be sure in this place. He didn't feel the stone on his back anymore, he didn't smell the moisture in the air, he wasn't even sure if he could see the darkness anymore. Everything felt so ethereal, so pure here, all the senses of his body distilled into one intense feeling beyond comprehension. He floated towards the buzzing, which dulled to a slow and deep tune, notes coiling around each other in harmony. The stream of consciousness wrapped itself around his own, and he felt himself unravelling as he did the same, separating himself and entwining himself with the stream. He felt the rush of emotion course through him, a bursting damn that soon tricked to an ebb and flow, ebb and flow. It calmed him, as if someone was holding his hand and sitting beside him, telling him that everything would be okay. He basked in the feeling. But he still felt some resistance. A few times as he lay in comfort, he felt himself drifting away, pushed by the current, rejected by the stream. For a few brief moments, he would struggle, breaking the calm as he tried to merge again with the melodic flow, sometimes it gave and sometimes it pushed harder. But as soon as he had crossed the threshold, it would vanish, and again calm would fill the void. He thought that sometimes he heard whispers through the stream, the voices of the dwellers echoing like wind, but as soon as he would hear it, it would be gone. He could not go deeper, for the flow was too strong, and he could not call back, he didn't even know how.


But all of it came to an end, a subtle end but an end nonetheless. It began as a pull, a gentle tug he felt from behind him, slowly dragging him out of the stream. He felt himself reform, becoming one again. The stream became a cloud, the cloud became a light, round and pulsating, until finally, darkness. His mind returned less subtly as he felt the barrage of thoughts rush into his head, pushed back and held at bay from before, his senses returning in full. He heard the twist of a key in a lock, the squeak of a door opening and the shuffle of boots on the stone before he had even opened his eyes. He saw the tall figure of a soldier disappear behind him as he opened his eyes, feeling the cold cuffs of steel clamp onto his wrists before the looser shackle was undone, clattering to the floor. He was hauled up, his senses how completely returned and his mind active, Tom grunting as he was pulled up beside him. They were shunted into the hall wordlessly, Michael glancing at the door, knowing Melody was behind it and probably waking up from her trance as well. He struggled in the soldiers grip slightly, facing the door to call to her.


"Just wait for us, we'll be fine, I promised I'll come back." He called, the soldiers pushing him forward down the hall, one putting a hand over his mouth. Tom was pushed beside him as he went, whispering to Michael slightly.


"They're strong, don't worry, and be quiet, we're probably being smuggled out in the middle of the night..." He said as they were led down the now decorated hall, transition going unnoticed until they were brought through the Kitchen again. As they were pushed through the double doors of the kitchen entrance they saw that the place was a small restaurant, its dining area having been converted into a storage room. The tables pushed to the sides were now hidden under boxes of stolen goods, ranging from food to ordinance, a few crates stamped with the same symbol that adorned the vehicles of the army that had sent them into this place. They had obviously been busy setting up this place, A few tables scattered outside of the restaurant, two bulky all-terrain vehicles parked across the street. But Michael and Tom were instead escorted down the footpath, the light emanating from behind the clouds above them betraying the true time of the night, glass and debris crunching underfoot as they were taken further from the camp. Tom counted the blocks they passed, totalling eight before they were finally and abruptly turned into a shell of a building, bare concrete showing through the holes blasted in the walls of what could have been a small shop of some kind. They were taken behind the building, being led up a flight of stairs to the roof, a gaping hole of concrete and plaster in the centre, and dumped by one of the edges. One soldier levelled his rifle while the other unlocked the two, neither Tom nor Michael making a move after he had finished. He and his partner took several steps back before he withdrew the pistol from his holster, glaring at the two with combat trained eyes.


"No tricks, either of you..." He said, putting the pistol on the ground and then moving back with his partner, turning down the flight of stairs and disappearing from view. Tom moved forward and retrieved the pistol, the sound of the soldiers hurried footsteps down the deserted road echoing beneath them.


"Beretta M9, standard issue..." Tom mused as he looked over the gun, trying to take the edge off the situation. "Fully loaded too...the problem is pulling it before Sting pulls something on us."


"Unless those soldiers don't get him before we're dead..." Michael said. Tom tossed the gun at his side, Michael staring at him questionably as he leaned against the wall of the stairway.


"Make sure they do..." He said, looking over to Michael. "Sting is my business, he'll be more likely to go after me, and hopefully that'll give you some time to dispose of him if he doesn't know we're armed." Michael held the gun, weighing it in his palm. It was heavy, emanating a sense of power, the command of deciding whether someone will live or die adding to the feeling. But when he was surrounded by the weapons, it also felt like a curse, a mark that he was dangerous.


"Are you going to be willing to use it?" Tom asked as he saw the hesitation running over Michael's face.


"If it'll help get us...all of us, out of here alive..." Michael sighed as he placed the gun down, relinquishing the power that almost made him feel controlled. "Then I'd shoot half the men who brought us here..." He had handled guns and weapons before, but now he was alone with it, a time when he only faced one enemy who stood against them like an unstoppable juggernaut, instead of the nameless mass of soldiers and thugs who had stood against them before. It added to the feeling of power that it was only them against him now. Though if Sting had made nervous the colonel who commanded the platoon of men they had met, then he could be considered an army in himself.


"Hopefully it won't come to that..." Tom said, looking out at the buildings opposite. Although not as high as the skyscrapers in the city centre, the offices here reached at least 10 floors, but still he could see the haze of white that covered the sky. It seemed like static, unturned to this world. He still didn't know what time it was.



They waited, an hour or so Michael guessed, with not even the sound of the wind to listen to. The only thing they could hear was the shifting against the concrete as one of them made a small motion. They didn't hear the soldiers return, they didn't hear them setting up for the ambush like the coronel had said they would, it was worrying for both of them. Every second was spent waiting and listening for the sound of footsteps on the hard concrete, even the shifting of their own bodies making them nervous, as if the silence was now something sacred and not to be broken. Finally, it came. The sound of feet shuffling along the road, silent and planned, but it was there. Tom raised his head, looking over to Michael from his place sitting next to him.


"He's here..." he whispered, Michael taking hold of the pistol immediately. "Don't let him see that, he'll just shoot you faster...." The words weren't exactly encouraging to Michael, but he slid the weapon into his pocket anyway, covering the handle with the loose cloth of his shirt and hoping it wouldn't show through.


As he stood, Tom motioned for him to move to the other side of the roof, purposely separating them and making them harder to watch at the same time. The steps could be heard beneath them now through the large concrete hole in the rooftop, but something didn't make sense to Tom. Sting knew the exact building, he hadn't even driven past to check out the entire street, let alone send out people to actually look for them. His worry had masked it from him earlier, but now it seemed that he had made a mistake, perhaps a deadly one. The footsteps were nearly silent when they made their way up the stairs, only the smallest clink of metal sounding with each step, now like the ringing of some deathly bell as they inched closer. One sudden clank followed by a blur of motion and Michael found himself being eyed by the man who had come to kill them. Rifle loaded, heavy and aimed, death in black metal. The cold eyes held no smug satisfaction and no humour as he looked between the two, keeping his rifle trained on either of them as he switched. His usual attire of cargo pants and thick Kevlar vest were stained with oil, dirt and what was very probably long dried blood.


"Right on time and exactly where wanted." He said, moving to the edge of the building, away from Michael and Tom to where he could see both at the same time. He brought his gun up to Michael, motioning at his belt.


"Throw that pistol behind you...." He said, Michael's fear gripping him as he heard him. He slowly uncovered the pistol and removed it from his pocket, throwing it behind him. The gun clattered across the concrete and hit the stairwell wall, metres away from Michael, much too far to grab it before Sting noticed.


"The most desperate person will do anything if they think it'll help them." Sting said, turning his gun to Tom. "You know they're not going to resist..."


"You set this up?" Tom asked, hope lost now, resigning the hardiness that he had gathered for this encounter. "You let us escape?...why? We were easier to kill in that cell."


"Easier...but I prefer to hit someone when they don't see it coming...and I wanted to see if you had that fight left in you from years back..." he said, relaxing his posture a bit, trained enough to snap back into position if needed. "Of course, you stayed predictable. You've taken a liking to that dog you travel with, the white one is more attractive and your friend here wouldn't have let you leave without her. Should've killed him and run, you probably would have gotten out alive...for a while."


"Better to face you while I have the chance..." Tom said, scanning the buildings around them hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything he could use.


"Unarmed and undefended, not a smart move." Sting said, a loud bang erupting from the gun as he pulled the trigger. Tom found himself being covered with dust, his ears ringing as he turned his head to the large chip in the concrete beside his head. Even the thought of a bullet coming that close made him pale.


"They're not coming." Sting laughed, watching Tom rise from the ground shakily. "And that means no one to interrupt us here, it's going to be ten years' worth of payback here..."


"For escaping you? Your tracking skills aren't as good as you thought they were. Like a pissed off bull running around without a target." Tom said, figuring if it really was the end then he may as well put in one final insult before Sting put five lead one's in him.


"First thing to go is that preachy tongue of yours..." Sting said, moving towards Tom, reaching for his belt.


Another sound bang erupted, Sting falling forward, his arm swinging to the side and discharging a burst of fire which ricocheted off the concrete rooftop. He rolled as he hit the ground, lying on his back as he clumsily aimed the rifle with one hand, firing at the buildings behind him. Tom didn't know what had happened, unless somehow the coronel was still going through with the plan, his men might be positioned somewhere on the rooftops. Tom swung back as Sting whipped the rifle past him, weight throwing off his aim, bullets flying.


Michael watched as sting began to prop himself up, the whole ordeal seeming to slow down time as he man pulled himself up. Michael's body moved before his mind, swinging around and launching himself at the wall of the stairwell, reaching down for the silver box of metal lying on the ground. He gripped it turning as quickly as his could, his weight causing him to fall back as he did so. Time slowed as he fell. He could see himself aiming for sting, but his arm was heavy and slow to move, and as he pulled the trigger, time almost stopped for him. He hit the concrete, his finger still on the trigger, Sting now standing, a deep line of blood running down his shoulder. Michael fired again, and again, and again. With each bang that rang in his ears Sting staggered back, the majority of the shots impacting on his chest, stopped by the Kevlar. The gun clicked but for a few moments he didn't notice, Sting staggering slightly near the edge of the building. Tom charged into view, ramming his shoulder into Sting's chest, knocking him back. He disappeared from Michael's view, only a short yell of bitter surprise coming from his mouth before a loud crack, and silence.


Tom's breath was heavy as he stood, looking down over the side of the building. Sting lay on the asphalt below, his body motionless, the gun that had been in his hand now lying beside him.


"It's over..." Tom said tiredly, collapsing to the ground and lying against the edge of the rooftop. "Not the end I expected...definitely not as glorious as he made it seem it would be one day."


Michael pulled himself back onto his feet, pain shooting through his back as he did so, the sting from the fall only just now catching up with him.



Not a minute later the coronel came clattering up the steps behind them. He laughed as he looked over the two, sitting and resting on the roof of the ruined building. Sting was dead, it was victory for him, and for them too. But Tom knew he wouldn't feel victory until he was out of this city, out of this mess and finally alone with Layla in a peaceful life. Michael shared the hollow feeling, just wanting to see the end of all of this, to see Melody and try to make all of it up. That much seemed so close he could think of little else.


"I have to admit, I expected one of you to die." The coronel said, pulling Tom to his feet and slapping him on the back, a friendly gesture that Tom found undeserving. "One man was stationed in the building behind you, it was all we were meant to need, but he missed the shot after sting started moving, nearly killed him for that."


"Why not more? You left us against him with no defence." Tom said aggressively, pushing past the coronel and making his way to the steps, Michael heaving to his feet and following.


"Too many would mean Sting would have guessed something was up. You were kept ignorant of the full plan so it wouldn't somehow be leaked." He said, following Tom through the bottom floor. A small transport vehicle idled on the road outside and the two were ushered into the back, the coronel sitting with them, taking out another cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with a look of success on his face. "You handled him well, especially the quick reactions from your friend there."


"I just...went for the kill..." Michael said, the event a blur in his mind. The adrenaline rush had faded and now caused fatigue to flow through his veins.


"Desperate situations bring out the survivalist in people, and if you have to kill a man to live in the end then that's what you'll do." The coronel said. After that they all stayed silent. The ride was short, only a few minutes before they reached the outpost again.


But as they exited the car the smell of blood and death assaulted their senses and the sight of bullet ridden bodies of both men and Pokémon rushed into view to greet them, clothes stained red with carnage and bodies splayed throughout the area, mocking the dead in their final moments. It had been a slaughter of Aqua and of Magma and all Pokémon partners they possessed, no matter how quick their defence, they had been taken by surprise, rounded up and shot dead. A few troops now combed the area, dragging away the lifeless bodies to pile somewhere out the way, leaving meat for the carrion birds and pulp for the earth to retake. As they entered the restaurant turned storage room they encountered two men on stretchers, one badly burned with his leg nothing but a charred and blackened mass of burnt flesh and the other clutching his head, screaming obscenities and raving about terrors which no man had seen and lived while a few more men tried to calm him and hold him down to administer drugs. They made their way into the back and down the same hallway which led to their dungeon prison. A feeling of claustrophobia crept up Michael's spine as he walked, descending into the cold cellar with its thick stone walls and damp air. He quickened pace down the hallway, moving ahead of the others, soon running to the door which barred in Melody and Layla.


"Michael..." Melody whispered, her voice breaking slightly. She met him at the door, the viewport open for her to see him reach her again. "You're back...oh, you're back..." She reached a hand out through the slit in the door, gingerly placing it on his cheek as if to make sure he was really there. She fought the sick feeling in her stomach as she did so, the remnants of the broken bond forcing her away from him, tormenting her when she didn't. But now it was easier to fight as relief flooded her mind, her hand feeling the warm skin and rough stubble over his face. He sighed as he felt her touch. It was good to be back with here, even if it was only a prison.


"I knew you'd survive." Came the voice of Layla, behind Melody and out of view, speaking to Tom as he approached. "You're stronger than anyone I know."


"Easy to say when you sat in a cell for all of it." Tom chuckled. Layla scowled and turned away, but she knew it wasn't meant to be insulting; all in good taste, but her want to be a part of the battle and to give something back did make it sting just a little. The coronel pulled the two away from the door gently, directing them into the cell they had occupied before.


"You'll be going free; don't think you'll be locked here again." He said, lowering his voice as he pulled the door almost closed, isolating them. "There's one more thing to be done though." Tom eyed him cautiously.


"You said we'd go free..." he said slowly, threat creeping into the edge of his voice.


"You'll be free..." he said, removing a pistol from his pocket, small and compact, slowly as not to be a threat, flipping it around and holding it out to either of them. "But those two have to be dealt with."


"That wasn't a part of it!" Tom roared, his voice echoing loudly through the chamber. The coronel deepened his serious scowl.


"You're from earth; you owe loyalty to that and the country you came from. Now you can take care of this and go free with us back to earth, or you can be deemed enemies of the state which I have full authority to shoot on sight." He said sharply, pushing the gun upon Michael.


"Why?" Michael said, his voice full of anger and bitterness. "You said we'd go free, you're going back, why do you care what happens to them?"


"Those things are the reason two of my men are near death right now." He said. "These people let these organic killing machines live free without a care, they're unqualified to handle them. The US government will be taking over this area once we find a stable way to it for the good of the people in this place and on earth."


"Your government doesn't have any authority here!" Michael yelled. "We're further away from earth an anyone has ever been, don't you know how little anyone is going to care about the authority of the government, and it's going to make things worse!"


"You're starting to sound mighty like a foreign insurgent, and I have the authority whether I'm here or on earth to execute you. But if you take care of those things you've been conspiring with, you'll be pardoned of your crimes, which also include killing a soldier who was performing a search operation." He threatened.


"This doesn't concern you!" Michael Yelled, face only inches from the coronel's despite him having drawn his own pistol from his holster, the feeling of cold steel pressed against Michael's throat.


"I was willing to let them walk free with you until my men were nearly killed by their kind; I'm making it my concern!" He bellowed, swinging open the door. Michael began to raise the gun, but the coronels glare caught him. "I'll die in service to my country, but you'll be slaughtered like animals if you shoot me. You take care of the problem and walk free or you die along with them." He stood in the hallway, key to the cell in his hand, motioning for them to come out. Reluctantly they followed his order, Michael gritting his teeth, Tom looking for some way out of this. The coronel kept his distance, gun levelled steadily at the two of them. He couldn't even make a charge to disarm him without being shot, and if Michael choose to try and shoot him...the battle would be very one sided. The coronel unlocked the door quickly, stepping back a few paces.


"Go..." The coronel said, motioning to the cell with his free hand. His face told them that he wouldn't be asking twice. Michael turned to Tom, looking at him with hopelessness before pushing past.


Tom wanted to move, do something even if it meant hurting Michael, but with the coronel watching them silently he was forced to stand still. His heart pounded in his ears, not able to believe what was actually happening, thinking it was all some hallucination out of panic. With every step that Michael took, every clack on the hard stone floor beneath them brought another jolt to his mind. He gritted his teeth, hard enough that his head shook with pressure. It wasn't until the door shut behind Michael that he realised it was going to happen. Silence hung in the air for a moment, the hallway turned into a gallows, crowd waiting to see the condemned fall with nooses around their neck. There was a whimper, a pitiful cry and a bang, then another. From inside he could hear the weeping, the shortened breaths and painful gasps. The sound made Tom fall to his knees, something that even Sting hadn't been able to do. Defeated by two bullets to two different people, fired by the one man he had been leading this entire time.


Wordlessly Michael stepped from the cell, walking with the limping gait of an old man, tears on his face, clenched in pain. He slumped against the wall, the hand that carried the gun dropping to his side as his hair fell over his face, his other hand over his face as if to try squeeze the memory out of his mind. A small trail of red, glistening liquid trailed from the cell, through the cracks of the stone tiles underfoot, snaking its way across the floor in the sickly light. The coronel smiled the accomplished smile of a madman, drawn from the psychotic belief of righteousness' that swelled inside him. He walked to the cell door, still holding the gun in his hand, and looked into the darkness inside. The bodies of two of those mindless, murdering creatures lay within, their chests stained with blood, dark against the supple white skin of one and the thick yellow fur of the other. He holstered his pistol and made his way over to Michael, slumped and whimpering against the wall opposite, squatting down to Michael height and putting a firm hand on his shoulder.


"It may have been hard, but you did the right thing." He said, speaking with praise like a teacher to his pupil. "Now let's go get back to our own world, you'll be fine if you stick with us." The coronel moved his hand away but stopped a coolness slammed under his jaw. Michael raised his head, still contorted slightly in pain, for once his glare matching the coronel's as he tightened the grip on the gun in his hand.


"Go home..." Michael breathed raggedly. Warmth splattered his face as the third bang erupted and echoed through the corridor. The weight on the gun lifted with a wet gurgling sound, falling to the right of Michael. He closed his eyes and let out a deep, ragged sigh.


"Michael!" He heard Melody call, feeling the sudden warmth of her body press against his, her silky dress fanning over his legs as he embraced him. Pain flared through his leg, but it seemed worth it, just to know that she was still alive.


Tom looked up, only to be knocked down again as he felt Layla do the same, gently hugging him close, face buried in his chest. She looked up at him, suddenly blushing and pulling herself up, hauling Tom up with her as if nothing happened.


"I-I'm glad you're okay..." She said quickly. Tom rolled his eyes with a small smiled, but soon looked over to Michael.


"What did you-" he stopped himself as he saw the red stains over Michael's shoes, wet and red, still fresh. Michael slowly removed his foot from the shoe, revealing a fresh and bloody wound, still dripping with blood. He winced as he laid his foot against the cold floor, gritting his teeth in pain.


"You shot yourself in the foot you dull bastard..." Tom muttered. "Stupid, stupid, stupid...but it worked." He sighed, leaning down. He quickly reached for the knife on the coronel's belt, slipping the sock from Michael's injured foot. "This'll hurt for a second." He slid the knife into the wound, Michael crying out at the burning dagger that now pierced his foot, Melody trying to offer some comfort with soft words and calming waves sent through his mind. It was the least she could do. He had come in without a word and held the gun towards her, putting only finger to his mouth for her to stay silent. He had lowered the pistol, slipping off his shoe and aiming towards his foot. Steeling himself with a breath, he had fired. She had screamed, and so had he beforedischarging the gun again into the stone wall away from him. He had taken some blood limply, smearing it over her chest as well as Layla's, only whispering to be quiet and play dead. She had hated the feeling over being covered in blood, his blood. But it had saved them. Tom has finished in five seconds, which felt so much longer, as he removed the bullet from Michael's foot, clinking dully on the ground. Tom pulled the sock away from Michaels other foot, wrapping it tightly around the wound. Michael stifled the cry of pain, the pressure on his foot tight enough that it felt like it would burst.


"The bullet might have missed most of the bone...for your sake it better be that way." Tom said, hauling Michael up onto on foot, turning to Melody. "Levitate him if you can, or his foot at the least." Melody took a hold of Michaels arm, placing it over her shoulders. Although she wasn't the strongest, she could hold him up while they moved, her levitation lightening him for her.


"...Let's leave." Layla said. "I don't want to be down here any longer." Tom couldn't agree more, leading them down the corridor and up the stairs. Melody held Michael steady as they walked, his foot keeping off the ground, hopping as fast as he could to keep pace with the others.


They reached the main foyer, walking past the medics who treated the two wounded. One of them sneered at Melody and Layla through the pain, uttering curses under his breath. It was harsh, but Michael couldn't blame him when his leg lay blackened and charred, the pain from that wound far greater to bear than his own. No one tried to stop them, which they were thankful for. The soldiers were most likely under orders to ignore them and let them leave, the coronel waiting to be discovered down in the cellar before they raised the alarm. Despite that no one paid attention to them, Tom quickened his pace, Melody beginning to levitate Michael along with herself, briskly moving away from the encampment, down the deserted and bleak roads as she followed Tom and Layla. It strained her, but not as much as it had before.


"Where are we going?..." Michael asked through the dull pain that now throbbed in his foot.


"We're going to the centre of this thing." Tom said, turning down a side street to get out of the soldiers sight.


"Shouldn't we get out of the city?" Michael asked, unsure of Tom's decision.


"We wouldn't make it before those soldiers tracked us down unless we hit one of those space folds Will talked about..." He said, his face hardening as he continued forward. "If there's something in the middle of this portal, it's something they want. And that means it has to be worth something to them as a bargaining chip at least."


"But no one's come out of that...there's a line, remember?" Michael said, the light around them growing brighter. The centre was still at least half a mile off, but they had no clue when they would hit the threshold, or what would happen when they did. "Everyone disappeared."


"We need to disappear anyway." Tom said, constantly looking behind him as they made their way down multiple streets, paths and alleyways. "If it can get us back to earth...we can hide for a while."


"What about Palkia? He said to go to iron island." Layla cut in. Palkia, a near deity for Pokémon kind, was not a creature whose orders seemed easily shirked.


"If Palkia was offering us a way home...this might be another way out." Michael said. Melody gave him a discouraged look, almost insulted even. "Okay, our home...please just stay in our world a little longer, we'll make it back somehow." He sighed.


"What about Valerie and Will?" She said sordidly. "Are we going to abandon them?..."


"Will will be fine...that army could use him anyway...and Valerie can get help and go home to her parents." He said, his foot dropping slightly, hitting the ground softly but causing the dull pain to flare for a moment.


"We can't leave them here." She said assertively. "They've helped us for so long, we wouldn't be here without them...I wouldn't be here without Valerie."


"We'll get them back...they just need to wait..." He started


"Did you wait to find me?" She said wretchedly. "Valerie took care of me all that time...Will helped you get me back...didn't they!"


"We can't go anywhere else." Tom said, spinning around to face the two. "We don't have time to get out of the city, even if we had a vehicle, we'd only get as far as...as..." He listened closely, silence falling over them as everyone stopped. He heard a distant roar, clattering, echoing in the mindless streets of the city. He turned, taking a few steps forward quickly before breaking into a run.


"They've found him, come on!" he yelled. "We could still reach the centre, just keep running and stay out of sight of them."


Melody picked up Michael again, fleeing faster with the rest. She didn't want to leave Valerie and Will behind, she wouldn't, but all she could do now was run. She hoped that whatever they would find in the middle of this could help, even if it could just get them back to those two somehow, but the sadness welled in her chest at the thought of leaving her own world again. She wasn't ready. She would never be ready again.