Pokémon Finding Strength Through Suffering

[elyvorg]

Well, here I am, somehow writing a Pokéfic again for the first time in forever. The kinds of fic I do occasionally write these days are always canon character-focused, which I never in a million years expected to want to do in the Pokémon fandom. But by some unprecedented miracle, the Pokémon games have finally figured out good nuanced complex character writing and have given me a character I absolutely adore, in Kieran. So naturally, as many good writers are wont to do with characters they love, I’m here to make him suffer more.

This is primarily a Kieran whump fic that exists to put my new favourite boy through the wringer, but in the process it’s using that as a catalyst for some character study of him as well. If you like both Kieran and whump, this story ought to be extremely up your alley. If you like just one of those two things and are at least okay with the other, you might enjoy this, too.

The plot of this is its own standalone thing that doesn’t require any knowledge of the SV DLC plot to be able to follow what’s happening. That said, there will be a bunch of spoilers for the DLC story in here, and a lot of the character stuff going on probably won’t mean nearly as much if you’re not familiar with Kieran’s canon arc.


Content warnings: Whump, obviously (which is to say, violence and suffering) but presented in a way that ought to be hypothetically suitable for children. I’ve aimed to more or less match the narrative tone of the Pokémon games themselves, just, you know, if they were whumpier. No blood, only very mild strong language, and things will turn out okay in the end.

Feedback preferences: Try not to dig too hard into the plot logistics here; while I’ve tried to make it all make reasonable sense, the plot basically just exists to facilitate the whump and character moments. In general, I don’t mind the occasional pointing out of an awkward bit that can be easily tweaked, but for the most part I’m not really that much about concrit these days. More than anything, I’d just love for people to engage with the story! Especially with regards to the character writing and the whump, of course.

Length-wise, this is going to be a short chaptered fic, so I’m hoping to get it finished within a reasonably quick timeframe. Not sure on projected wordcount just yet, but the rest of the chapters should be quite a bit longer than this bite-sized first one. Enjoy!

Spoiler: more specific spoilery CW for chapter 1, if necessary

This chapter depicts a near-drowning experience.

~~~​

Chapter 1​

– It’s because I’m weak –​

Kieran drew in a deep breath of ocean breeze as he watched the sun rise slowly over the waves. He was leaning into one of the round open holes on the east wall of the bridge, which gave the perfect view, something no-one else seemed to have discovered. The whole entrance area of Blueberry Academy was deserted at this hour, aside from a few wild Wingull – it was just him, here enjoying the sunrise alone.

Most students who woke up this early would be down in the Terarium right now, getting in some morning training before classes began. Not so long ago, Kieran would have been down there too, doing precisely that, every morning without fail, awake long before anyone else, relentless—

…Perhaps that was the very reason he’d taken to spending his mornings out here instead, even if it meant being on his own. The Terarium was an amazing place, and perfectly fine to hang out in in theory, but… sometimes the atmosphere in there just felt suffocating.

Besides, Kieran liked it out here for its own sake. It seemed kind of silly to think it, but this spot on the bridge was special to him. It was right here that he’d somehow mustered up the courage to ask Juliana if they could be friends again, after everything he’d done… and she’d just smiled and nodded eagerly like there could never have been any other answer. The thought of it still made him marvel, even now. It helped put his mind at ease, especially with Juliana back in Paldea for a while since a couple of weeks ago.

And hey – it wasn’t as if he was entirely alone, either.

“Mornin’, Dragonite.” The chubby orange dragon greeted him with a yawn as he sent her out. “Wanna go for another morning flight?”

She nodded, crouching to let him climb onto her back. Once he was sure he was secure, he gave the word, and they took off, flying out from the bridge to soar towards the sunrise.

Kieran readjusted his hold on Dragonite, trying to relax into the flight. This feeling of freedom, the wind in his hair, the sight of the ocean waves so far below unnerving yet exhilarating at the same time.

Only a moment later, he tensed up as Dragonite jolted briefly and water splashed over his leg. It was just a Wingull, it turned out, cheekily firing a Water Gun that Dragonite probably barely even felt – she yipped at it in annoyance, her antennae crackling with warning sparks, and the bird Pokémon quickly thought better of its mischief and flapped away.

With a long, steadying breath, Kieran forced himself to loosen his grip on Dragonite’s neck. Flying was still kind of scary at times… but it was really fun, too. There was nothing else quite like it. Which meant it was worth it to push through his nervousness and do it anyway – the only way it’d stop being scary at all one day was if he kept at it.

Dragonite was facing forwards, preventing him from seeing her expression, her body shifting subtly beneath him with every beat of her wings. Not for the first time, Kieran found himself wondering if things wouldn’t be so bad if he could just fly on any of his Pokémon except her. And then as soon as he’d had that thought, he wished he hadn’t.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her – really, it wasn’t. It was just… Dragonite was the only one of his Pokémon he hadn’t caught for himself. She’d been traded to him as a Dratini by his sister, during that time when Carmine had been visiting all sorts of other regions with Ms Briar, and he’d been… well, obsessed with training. For the rest of his Pokémon, Kieran had proven himself in the battles to catch them, allowing them to choose him as their trainer – but not Dragonite.

Still, he’d hadn’t ever had any problems with her disobeying him or anything like that. He knew he was probably overthinking it, being stupid, but even so, he could never quite shake the feeling that… maybe she just didn’t respect him like his other Pokémon did. (Why would she?)

Kieran shook his head, pushing the uncomfortably familiar thoughts of his mind. This had gone around and around in his head enough times before, and there was nothing he could do about it anyway. He nudged Dragonite to fly a little lower, watching the ocean waves rush by, smiling at the way they glittered in the sunrise.

Then an icy blast exploded into him out of nowhere. The world pitched and spun, his stomach lurching with it – and something large and flat slammed into his whole body.

The shock of the impact escaped his mouth in rippling salty bubbles, a heavy, cold sensation closing in around every inch of him. Water. He was underwater. His brain scrambled to piece it together: Dragonite had been attacked and he’d fallen into the ocean and he couldn’t swim!

Kieran clamped his mouth shut, more precious air leaving his nose in an exhaled grunt of terror as he fought the urge to take the breath he’d need to scream. Flailing his limbs, weighed down by his clothes, he opened his eyes against stinging seawater, straining to even figure out which way was up.

There…! One direction was brighter than the rest. He threw himself towards it with everything he had, grasping with his arms, thrashing with his legs, struggling with all his might to reach it. He didn’t know how to swim, but he had to try, he had to, he had to…!

One arm and then his head breached the surface, and Kieran gasped in desperate lungfuls of air. “Dragonite!” he screamed with his newfound breath, as loud as he could. Where was she? “Help me!” He needed her, he couldn’t keep himself afloat for long, his limbs were already burning with the strain of it, where was she…?!

There she was – some distance away, half-submerged beneath the waves, bellowing in urgent alarm as she caught sight of him. Sea spray kicked up around her, her image blurring towards him with the swiftness of an Extreme Speed – but then her trajectory swerved to the side and back again, around and around, caught in a swirling ocean current.

A… a Whirlpool?! She was trapped, unable to reach him… No, this couldn’t be happening…!

Dragonite looked beaten down, too, panting and grimacing as her spinning momentum slowed. How come…? Her Multiscale should have let her shrug off almost any attack from full health, even an Ice move, especially from a wild Pokémon. Shouldn’t it…?

No, that didn’t matter…! Kieran strained to keep his head above the surface, fighting against his sodden, heavy clothes that threatened to drag him down. He forced his jumbled mind to work with him, grasping for another way out, any other option – his Pokémon! He had other Pokémon that could help – Politoed…! Pokéballs couldn’t release underwater, but if he could just…

He stopped flailing one of his aching arms to reach down to his Pokéballs – and as soon as he did, his head went under, stinging saltwater rushing into his eyes and nose and mouth. Blind panic overtook him; he flailed again, harder, somehow just barely managing to resurface, spluttering and gasping. It took everything he had, both arms working non-stop just to keep himself from drowning, burning with the effort yet freezing from the cold at the same time.

No, no… there was no way he could reach his Pokéballs; he wasn’t strong enough…! Dragonite was his only hope, but…

He struggled to focus his stinging, streaming eyes to look over at her again. There was another shape in the water near her, a dark blue shell with spikes – a Cloyster? That had to be the source of the Whirlpool – if she could just take it out…!

Dragonite must have thought the same; she was roaring, her antennae crackling with the beginnings of a Thunder. But then she hesitated, glancing Kieran’s way for just a moment, and the sparks faded. She charged at her foe instead, slamming her tail into its tough shell. The Cloyster shrugged off the Breaking Swipe, retaliating with a point-blank Ice Beam that sent the dragon careening backwards with a mighty splash and a weak cry of pain.

“Dragonite!” Kieran screamed again, his head so horribly low to the surface that he couldn’t even see where she’d ended up past the waves all around him. Had she fainted? Why… why hadn’t she—

Something wrapped tight around his midriff and pulled him under.

Another bubbling gasp escaped him as he clamped down again on the urge to hyperventilate from sheer panic. Flailing his limbs was a hopeless endeavour; whatever had grabbed him was pulling him inexorably further and further away from where Dragonite had fallen, heedless to his struggling. He tried to tug against the long, thin appendages that had hold of him – tentacles, so many of them; a Tentacruel?! – but his aching arms were useless, sapped of all strength by the brief time spent fighting to keep him afloat. There was nothing he could do.

Why was this happening…? One aggressive wild Pokémon was bad enough, but two, at the same time? Did luck really have it in for him that much?

Kieran grimaced in terror, already struggling not to breathe in as the Tentacruel’s grip tightened, dragging him through the freezing water like hapless prey. He had no hope, no chance of getting out of this – unless…

Dragonite…! Please, please…

…But if she could have, she’d have reached him by now.

She wasn’t coming to save him. He hadn’t trained her to be strong enough.

(Or maybe she just didn’t care enough about him to try.)

He was going to drown. He was going to die, out here in the cold of the ocean where no-one would ever find him, alone and helpless and weak. All just because of some wild Pokémon, something any halfway-decent trainer should have been able to deal with – but not him.

His chest throbbed and writhed in pure reflex, his lungs begging for relief, begging him to stop denying them and let them breathe. It crossed his mind that he might as well just give in, let go, get it over with – but he still didn’t want to. The thought of water rushing in and flooding his body was too much, too terrifying. Even though he knew it was inevitable, he couldn’t stop fighting to put off that horrible fate for just a little longer, just a little longer, just a li—

There was a splash and his head broke the surface and – air!

He didn’t care how or why; he just breathed, gasping in great desperate relieved lungfuls of precious, sweet air. Sweet and sickly and… catching in his throat, making him cough, in a way that had nothing to do with the water.

Kieran opened his eyes, blinking seawater out of them to find his face surrounded by a cloud of yellow spores – spores that he’d been unthinkingly inhaling like his life depended on it.

Past that, the image of a red-and-white mushroom Pokémon, an Amoonguss, swam into blurry view, along with several dark-clad human figures, standing on the edge of a small boat of some kind. Huge concrete pillars towered even further back – he was under the entrance bridge…?

This wasn’t just a random attack from wild Pokémon. This was… a kidnapping…?

That realisation ought to have been even more terrifying. But with the spores still floating around him, coating the inside of his nose and mouth, Kieran couldn’t seem to remember how to be afraid right now. Everything was descending into a sleepy haze, his limbs floppy and useless as he felt the men drag his body up and over the edge of the boat, heard them saying words his brain couldn’t make out.

He landed in a soggy, crumpled heap on the deck, just briefly managing to hold onto one last thought before his consciousness slipped away.

Why’s… this happening…?

Why… me…?

~~~​

 

[elyvorg]

Spoiler: more specific spoilery CW, if necessary

This fic contains torture – however, as mentioned in the general CWs, it’s carried out and depicted in a way that should be fairly in-line with kid-friendly media, despite the intensity of it.

~~~​

Chapter 2​

– You’re just okay being this weak forever? –​

It was cold and his body ached. He groaned, shifting, the surface beneath him hard and uncomfortable. This… wasn’t his bed…? This was—

Fear jolted Kieran fully awake as everything came flooding back. On instinct, he tried to get his limbs under him and push himself upright, but something dug into his wrists and ankles, keeping them in place.

He was tied up, he realised with dread, his arms behind his back, with what seemed to be another length of rope connecting them to his bound feet so that he couldn’t even stretch out properly. His body felt bruised all over, probably from when he’d hit the water, his still-damp clothes leeching cold into him. He shivered.

“Sir,” came a voice. “Kid’s awake.”

Kieran looked up to see a man in a dark outfit speaking into some kind of walkie-talkie while leaning by the door of this small, dimly-lit room. A guard, to make sure he didn’t escape. Not like he could even try like this. He tugged at his bonds on the off-chance, but his wrists were bound way too painfully tightly to stand a hope of slipping free.

“H-Hey! Wh-Where am I?” he asked the guard, his voice shaking. “What… what do you want with me?”

The guard glanced briefly down at him like he was no more interesting than a piece of trash, then shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the opposite wall, giving no answer.

Hating how horribly small he felt on the floor like this, Kieran managed with some effort to pull himself up into a sitting position. As he did, something even worse hit him: his hands were tied behind his back, right where his bag, his Pokéballs, should have been – but there was nothing there. No Pokémon. He was utterly alone.

“My… My Pokémon, wh-where are they?” he tried asking. Like there was any chance the guard would tell him – of course he didn’t respond. “Wh-Why’d you bring me here?” he tried again. Still nothing. “C-C’mon, just say somethin’, at least!”

The guard continued to ignore him entirely. As if he wasn’t even there.

Kieran shrank in on himself, grimacing. He wasn’t exactly unused to this feeling, but… it’d been a long while since he’d last felt it. It wasn’t a welcome return.

He swallowed, still shivering, and not just from the chill in his clothes. There was a lump in growing his throat, tears pricking at his eyes – but he shook them back. Crying wouldn’t help right now. He had to try and… and do something. If he even could.

Kieran twisted around to get a better look at the room he was trapped in, but it was almost empty. Just a shabby bunk bed, which made his stomach drop at the thought of how long they might be keeping him here. A round window was set into the back wall, but it looked too high to reach, too small to fit through… not that he could even try while tied up like this, anyway. There wasn’t a single thing he could use to escape. Of course there wasn’t.

He still couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t wrap his head around why. The only thing that remotely came to mind was Pokémon thieves, but they’d have no reason to keep hold of him like this after taking his Pokémon. And it couldn’t have just been a random choice, either. Kieran thought back to the way he’d been attacked, the Whirlpool preventing Dragonite from reaching him – this had been planned. They had to have been going for him in particular.

But absolutely nothing about that fact made sense. What could any kind of bad guys possibly want with him? He wasn’t important, or special, or strong. He was just… just Kieran.

For a while longer, he cowered there, shivering, his heart pounding in his ears, wishing he at least understood if nothing else. Waiting for something to happen, anything to break this unbearable anticipation, while simultaneously dreading whatever it might turn out to be.

Then at last, the door to the room swung open. The guard snapped to attention as another man entered, silhouetted by the light from outside. He wore a similar dark outfit, but it was smarter and more elaborate than the guard’s, and his iron-grey hair and beard seemed styled with a sharp, deliberate precision. More than anything, he carried himself with an air of lofty authority, as if it was self-evident that he owned the place.

This was… the boss, probably? The one who’d decided, for some unfathomable reason, to go after Kieran of all people.

“Gustavus, sir,” the guard acknowledged with a deferential nod. “Should… should I stay here?”

His boss spared him a withering glance. “I hardly think I need assistance against a restrained, unarmed child,” he remarked, a condescending sort of tone to his voice. “Do you?”

A chill ran through Kieran at hearing himself described that way. Unarmed. Small. Defenceless.

“R-Right, of course, sir,” said the guard. “I’ll, uh… I’ll just be outside, then.”

And he left, closing the door behind him. Shutting Kieran in here with his kidnapper.

Kieran tensed like startled prey as the man slowly stalked towards him. He tried in vain to shuffle backwards across the floor, wishing he could raise his hands to shield himself somehow, helpless to do either with the way he was bound.

“Y-You’re the one who…” he began to say, but his voice faltered. Paying no heed to his words, the man drew closer, towering over him. “I-I mean, what… what do you…” His captor bent down and grabbed Kieran’s chin in a rough grip, forcing his head upwards. “Aagh!” he cried out, struggling, failing to pull away. “G-Get off me—!”

The man held up some kind of device that flashed a light into Kieran’s eye for a heart-stopping moment – and then he released his grip. Kieran recoiled, grimacing, breathing hard, savouring the brief flutter of relief that he hadn’t been hurt – much.

As his captor took a step back, Kieran looked up at him again and realised what the device in his hand was. Just a Pokédex – a familiar model, too—

“Wait, that’s…! That’s my Pokédex!” he protested. And scanning his eye – the same thing he always did to verify his identity in order to access his PC boxes, which meant…! “No! Leave my Pokémon alone!” he begged, lurching forward in his bonds. “P-Please…”

His voice trailed off, swallowed up by the horrible reality of how completely helpless he was to prevent this. The man ignored him, frowning at the device, thumbing buttons to scroll through Kieran’s boxes as casually as if they were his own.

Then he let out a frustrated huff. “…Really?” he said irritably. “The ogre isn’t in your active party or on your PC? You don’t have it?”

Kieran’s eyes widened. “The… the ogre…?” he echoed numbly, as everything finally slotted into place. “Y-You want… the ogre… That’s why…”

That was why these people had kidnapped him. Because they wanted Ogerpon.

…Because they’d thought he was Ogerpon’s trainer. It was so ironic, he couldn’t help but splutter out a shaky, broken laugh.

This wasn’t really about him; of course it wasn’t. They’d just made a stupid mistake.

“Yes, well,” muttered the man – Gustavus, hadn’t the guard called him? He pocketed Kieran’s dex and turned on his heel to face his captive. “I had assumed that for a trainer to become Champion of Blueberry Academy’s league so remarkably quickly, shortly after returning from a field trip to Kitakami, the obvious explanation would be that you had captured the ogre whilst you were there.” He tilted his head back slightly, looking down at Kieran with one eyebrow quirked. “Apparently I was mistaken.”

Staring up at his captor, Kieran felt everything settle into a cold, stark kind of clarity in his head. This man, this villain, Gustavus, wanted Ogerpon. And he had the resources and the willingness to go as far as kidnapping someone to achieve that. How much further would he go?

Kieran shifted in his bonds, his shoulders lowering. He tried to kneel up to lessen the height gap, but the rope connecting his wrists and ankles pulled taut, keeping him on the floor. Instead, he leaned back, gaining slightly less of a steep angle to look up at Gustavus with. A scowl formed itself on his face.

“…Looks like your info’s out of date,” Kieran said. Without really meaning to, he found himself speaking carefully, enunciating his words the Unovan way, hiding the Kitakami twang. “I used to be Champion. Wasn’t even for that long.”

Masking his accent was just as well – he didn’t want Gustavus realising he was from Kitakami and hadn’t simply visited. Not if he could help it. The less this man knew, the better.

“Really?” asked Gustavus, a patronising note to his voice. “You lost the title so soon?”

“Yeah,” Kieran responded, like it was nothing, brushing away the echoed pang of the agony he’d felt upon his defeat back then. “‘Cause someone else was stronger than me. That’s how this stuff works.”

And it was nothing. He didn’t mind nowadays that he was no longer Champion. He knew that kind of thing wasn’t what mattered. But…

“It is, isn’t it. Pity.” Gustavus’s raised eyebrow was back again. “I had imagined you might be somebody to be reckoned with, but it seems… not.”

His gaze was withering, and Kieran couldn’t hold onto it. He glanced off to the side, scowling, letting out a long breath. Hearing this man act like it did matter, like it made Kieran lesser – it…

Still, this… this was good, right? If Gustavus knew Kieran was nothing to him, didn’t that mean he’d just… let him go?

But instead, he and his men would go after – Juliana…!

Or, would they…? If they’d gone for Kieran first, it meant they had no idea right now who Ogerpon’s trainer actually was.

…It suddenly hit Kieran that he really didn’t want Gustavus probing into who’d dethroned him as Champion.

“Why… why are you so interested in the ogre anyway?” he asked, hoping the change of subject wouldn’t be too obvious. “What is it to you?”

Just ‘the ogre’. Just ‘it’. He needed to be sure to refer to Ogerpon that way – he couldn’t let on how much he knew. Just had to let himself slip back into old habits, the terms he’d thought of her – it – by for most of his life.

“Why wouldn’t I be interested in it?” Gustavus replied, an undercurrent of fervour entering his voice. His hands came out from behind his back, gesturing along with his words. “The ogre that emerged victorious, one-on-three, against such powerful foes; the masks that further bolster its abilities in battle. Such a fascinating tale. What potential that Pokémon must have…!”

He knew the legend…? “You’re… from Kitakami, then…?” Kieran wondered. Was that possible? Mossui Town was small enough that surely he’d have seen this guy around, taken note of anyone else who actually seemed to like the ogre too. And he didn’t have the accent… not that that proved anything, of course.

“Not quite,” Gustavus admitted, “just a nearby province. Close enough for word of your local legend to have made its way to where I grew up.”

‘Your’…? Before Kieran could finish that thought, he had to fight the urge to shrink back as his captor lowered himself to one knee, approaching his level, uncomfortably close – though still decidedly higher up than him.

“Kieran, isn’t it?” said Gustavus, sending a chill through him. There was something unnerving about hearing this man address him by name. “I’ve heard about you: the Kitakami boy who’s always been fascinated by the ogre, too. It must be such a privilege to live there, in the very shadow of the ogre’s mountain itself. Don’t you think?”

So… no point in hiding his accent, then. Gustavus already knew that part. Kieran inched backwards just a little, as casually as he could, trying not to seem intimidated at being in such close quarters with his kidnapper.

“Didn’t exactly feel like a privilege,” he responded, finding himself still pushing back the local twang regardless. Talking this way helped him think before he spoke, after all. He had to keep being careful not to let anything slip. “I visited its den on the mountain a bunch of times, but the ogre never showed up for me. Guess I just wasn’t important enough.” He shrugged, trying to seem far more dismissive than he’d ever felt about that fact.

“But, hey,” Kieran went on, a little bolder as an idea came to him, his eyeline somewhere around his captor’s bearded chin. “If you’re that obsessed with the ogre too, why don’t you go to Kitakami and look for it yourself?” Which, of course, wouldn’t bring Gustavus anywhere near Ogerpon and would ideally just waste his time. “Maybe you’ll have better luck than me.”

Gustavus gave a patronising frown. “What kind of a fool do you take me for? Do you really think that wouldn’t have been the first thing I tried?”

…Yeah, it… it had been a pretty long shot to think that tactic would work, hadn’t it.

“We scoured the land of Kitakami quite thoroughly, I assure you. My scientists detected no readings of abnormally powerful Pokémon that could be attributed to the ogre. The only possibility is that it is no longer there.”

Scientists…? Not only could this group carry out an elaborate kidnapping plan, they had scientists too? Just how powerful was this man’s organisation?

Gustavus leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. “But something tells me that you know exactly where it disappeared to.”

Kieran froze, his heart pounding, his face carefully blank, trying very, very hard to think about anything except Juliana.

Shifting his gaze, he grasped for something else to focus on, any way to not directly answer that implicit question. From this close up, he could make out an insignia on Gustavus’s breast pocket. Three draconic heads with serpentine necks entwined together, the middle head larger than the others. It reminded him of—

He glanced away to the side. “…Maybe it was never real,” he suggested, breaking the tense silence. “The ogre. Maybe the stories are just… stories.”

“Of course it’s real!” snapped Gustavus, so forcefully that Kieran couldn’t help but flinch. He should have figured – he’d always hated that too, back when— “Your townspeople buried corpses of their local heroes in the wake of the ogre’s rampage,” Gustavus went on in a snarl. He rose to his feet again, pacing back and forth. “Are you really going to deny the truth of the part where it killed them? Is that not precisely why you admire the ogre?”

“H-Huh…?” Kieran stared up at Gustavus, a cold disgust creeping over him as it sank in, even as it wasn’t remotely surprising – this man believed the legend’s angle that Ogerpon was the bad guy, yet… he admired it anyway? And… he thought Kieran ought to feel the same way…?

Of course, Kieran couldn’t deny that the ogre fighting and winning while outnumbered against the Loyal Three was his favourite part of the stories – the only part he’d ever liked to think was true. But… that didn’t include the part where it had killed them. He’d never wanted to believe that’d truly been the end result, had always tried to imagine that was just an exaggeration made up to scare people, like the ridiculous thing about the ogre stealing souls.

And yet, Kieran knew the true story now – Ogerpon had killed the Loyal Three in their battle after all. That part really had been the truth all along. But, still…

“I… I always admired it, yeah,” he admitted, finding his voice, “but, not… not like that.”

Because he’d admired Ogerpon’s strength, to not give in, to hold her own and triumph even when so overwhelmingly outmatched. He shivered down there on the floor, struggling to hide his fear as his kidnapper towered over him, peering down at him like he was something small and insignificant.

Kieran really, really wished he could have any of that kind of strength right now.

“I should have realised,” Gustavus scoffed. “Despite our shared interest, it seems you simply lack the drive that I have. And all your pathetic townspeople, too terrified of the ogre to even go near it. Only I have the vision, the strength, to make its power my own.”

…Yeah. Of course it was about this. Gustavus hadn’t quite said so in as many words until just now, but it had been pretty obvious this was what he was after.

Kieran tilted his head, trying to seem sceptical, unimpressed. Not afraid in the slightest of what might happen if this man got his wish. “What makes you so special, that you think it’d choose you?”

Something flashed in Gustavus’s eyes. “As I said,” he snarled, “I have strength. I began from nothing, working tirelessly to amass this organisation, all through my own hand. Subordinates who follow my every command, who plucked you from your prestigious academy and brought you to me at my behest. I have more than earned the right to possess the ogre’s power too, if I so wish.”

As if Ogerpon would ever choose to partner with someone who’d stoop to kidnapping. “What if the ogre doesn’t think so?” Kieran challenged. “Ever considered that?”

…He hadn’t considered that, back then, had he? – hadn’t wanted to – the notion that, even if he could have proven himself stronger than Juliana, perhaps Ogerpon still wouldn’t have chosen him just based on that.

“What it thinks is hardly going to be relevant,” Gustavus snapped back, rising ire in his tone. “I haven’t come this far to leave my ultimate goal down to chance.”

Those words hit Kieran like a blow to the chest. “You’re not… not planning on giving it a choice…?” He winced, blinking away images of a Master Ball sucking Terapagos inside.

“And what about after?” he demanded, heated disgust creeping into his voice as he tried not to think about that blast of Terastal energy flying straight towards— “If you have to force it to join you, do you really think it’s gonna listen to you?”

“What do you know?!” spat Gustavus, rounding on him in furious indignation. “All Pokémon exis—!”

Then he stopped himself, taking a breath, regaining his composure.

Warily, his heart hammering, Kieran watched his captor pace back and forth in silence. Clearly he’d hit a nerve somewhere. He wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or an extremely bad one.

After a moment, Gustavus came to a stop, pivoting on his heel to look down at Kieran again. “You’ve heard of Team Rocket, no?” His voice was as calm and collected as ever, as if nothing had just been amiss.

“Huh?” This was a sudden swerve of topic – or was it…? “Yeah…” Kieran remembered hearing about Team Rocket sometimes on the news when he was little – Kanto and Johto were the most populous regions near Kitakami, after all. “But… didn’t they disband years ago?”

“Back when they were active, they had a motto: ‘All Pokémon exist for the glory of Team Rocket’,” Gustavus said. His voice turned sour. “The latter part there was never the important part, of course. Team Rocket turned out to be weak – its leader vanishing for such a pathetic reason, its admins pining after him rather than learning to stand on their own.” His contempt faded as he clenched a fist in front of him. “But I knew better. I saw the true meaning in that motto: all Pokémon exist for the glory of those who are strong enough to seize them for themselves.”

What with the kidnapping, Kieran figured he should have already known he was in something pretty deep – but hearing what sounded like first-hand knowledge of an actual criminal syndicate made it feel that much more uncomfortably real. “So… you were a member of Team Rocket?”

Gustavus didn’t respond, his face tightening – which gave Kieran a pretty good idea of the answer.

“There have been other teams besides Rocket that thought along those lines,” Gustavus went on, as if he hadn’t spoken. “Plasma – the Neo faction of it, at least. Cipher and Snagem – well, mostly Cipher, of course. Groups who researched ways to bring out a Pokémon’s true power, all while keeping them tightly under human control. Not all of that work was lost when the teams were dismantled – many of the members slipped through the cracks, just as I did.”

Plasma and Cipher…? Kieran hadn’t known much if anything about them, but he sure didn’t feel good hearing their methods right now. Not with everything else Gustavus was spouting. And especially not with Ogerpon as his target.

“So I sought them out. I earned their obedience, made them answer to me, and they’ve been working to refine that technology ever since. Now all the fruits of their research are mine, to do with as I see fit.”

A spark of indignation hit Kieran beneath his mounting dread. “You went and just… took all their work? You didn’t even put in any kind of effort yourself, you just…”

“I earned it,” Gustavus insisted. “I put in the effort by gaining more strength, and I proved that to all of them. The people who did that research respect my authority, because I am the strongest of anyone here. That makes it mine.” He gave a patronising smirk. “If they have a problem with that, it’s their problem for being weaker than me.”

Disgust contorted Kieran’s face. “So, if… if you did find the ogre, to make it listen to you, you’d…” He was beginning to hate how his voice still wouldn’t stop pushing back his accent, talking the same way he’d done when— “You’d mind-control it? You can just… do that?”

“Exactly. As I said: what it wants will not be relevant.” Gustavus drew himself to his full height, still smirking, like a Persian that was exceedingly pleased with itself. “And not only that – my machine will draw out the ogre’s full might, to a far greater extent than it could naturally exert on its own. Already such an incredible Pokémon, brought to the very peak of its power… Won’t that be magnificent?”

The thought of Ogerpon, mindlessly chained to this madman’s will, forced to lash out with a terrible degree of power somehow even greater the strength she already had… it wasn’t magnificent. It was awful.

“Won’t that… hurt it?”

A frown flitted across Gustavus’s features, like that was a meaningless question. “Well, obviously. You can’t obtain strength without the weak having to suffer. That’s just the way of the world.” He clasped his hands behind his back, leaning forwards, fixing Kieran with a steely gaze. “The only thing I need now is for you to tell me where to find it.”

All of the anger and disgust that had been simmering inside Kieran – he could feel it coalescing into something greater: a fierce, fervent, burning determination. He was not going to let this villain anywhere near Ogerpon. Not as long as there was anything he could do about it.

“What makes you think – even if I did know – that I would ever tell you?”

Gustavus huffed in impatience, yet Kieran caught a flicker of a decidedly unsettling smile as he drew himself back up. “I don’t think you’ve quite grasped the situation that you’re in here.”

With a flash of Pokéball light, a Rotom materialised and zipped forwards to hang in the air beside Kieran. Its lightning-shaped plasma appendages flicked back and forth, uncomfortably close to his face. A subtle yet unnerving staticky hum filled the room.

“I’m not asking.”

The Rotom’s eerily blank eyes stared through Kieran as the slow, horrible realisation sank into him. The fire in his blood drained away, vanished, consumed by an ice-cold, gut-wrenching terror.

No. This couldn’t be. This couldn’t be what he thought it was. This couldn’t be about to happen, to him, it couldn’t, it couldn’t—!

There was a quiet chuckle from Gustavus somewhere above him, but Kieran didn’t look up, couldn’t look up, his wide-eyed gaze fixed helplessly on the Rotom filling his vision as if it was the only thing in the room. The only thing that existed. It jittered up and down, giggling along with its master.

“Funny how weak even an ex-Champion becomes with no Pokémon at his command, isn’t it?”

Weak. Helpless. No Pokémon, no defence, no way out. Utterly at this villain’s mercy.

“Now, then. You will tell me where the ogre went, or you will suffer the consequences of defying me, for however long it takes for you to see reason.”

Kieran’s mind was numb, his breaths coming sharp and fast. He blinked several times, opening and closing his mouth as he tried to remember how to make words.

“I d… I don’t know…!” he finally found himself gasping, babbling, his brain latching unthinkingly onto this one chance, his only hope of maybe having this not happen to him because it couldn’t be about to happen. “I-I swear, I dunno, I dunno anythin’ about it, please, I don—!”

Fingers clicked, the Rotom flashed, and everything became pain.

It flooded every inch of him, blinding electric agony overwhelming all else. Too much, too intense – it hurt so much worse than he’d already been so afraid it would…! It sent his back arching, his face contorting into a wide grimace of anguish, yet he was powerless to even cry out. The lightning had his lungs, his whole body, seized tight in its terrifying, unbreakable grip.

Then it released him, and Kieran doubled over with a choked gasp. A long scream found its way out of him now that it finally could, a desperate, horrified release of the pain and the shock of what he’d just gone through, degenerating into pathetic shaky moans as he shuddered uncontrollably. The brightness against his vision faded, leaving him staring wide-eyed at the floor between his knees, hardly able to comprehend what’d just happened.

“Impressed?” came a voice from above him – Gustavus’s. “This Rotom of mine is quite skilled at maximising pain while causing no permanent damage to a human body. And you’ll be pleased to hear that humans lack the fainting reflex that makes a Pokémon fall unconscious before it can endure too much pain. There will be no reprieve from this, not until you tell me where the ogre is.”

This… this was so unreal. Kieran had heard this exact kind of villainous spiel before, a bunch of times – but in movies…! If this happened at all, it was supposed to be to the sort of characters who could face it all down with witty quips and an unbreakable spirit – heroes, who were strong, and cool, and larger than life, and absolutely nothing like him…!

This couldn’t be happening to him. It just… it just couldn’t be. This searing ache in his muscles, this horrible trembling all over, it couldn’t have been because—

“I-I don’t know…!” he repeated between gasping, shaking breaths, clinging to this one desperate hope, his only possible way out. “P-Please,” he begged, hearing his voice break, “I don’t know anythin’ about the ogre, I’m not, I’m not important, I’m no-one! I-I’m just—”

At the snap of Gustavus’s fingers, vicious lightning blindsided Kieran again. The agony, the sheer overpowering reality of it tore through his mind, shattering every defence, snuffing out any pathetic effort to deny it. This was real. This really was happening, to him, right now! And yet…! He tried to pull away from it somehow, begging his seizing muscles to work with him, to save him, please – but there was no escaping the pain. He couldn’t break free of it, couldn’t even fight it, couldn’t do anything but hurt…!

Only when the lightning let up did Kieran regain control, gasping, screaming out his anguish on a delay. Something was pressing uncomfortably into his shoulder, and he realised he’d fallen sideways onto the floor. He hadn’t even noticed it when he’d collapsed. The Rotom still hung there, somewhere just above him, its ever-present staticky hum sending his skin prickling.

“But you’re not no-one, are you?” insisted Gustavus from far overhead. He said that in a strange way, as if it was… true? “Your hometown knows you as the boy who’s always been obsessed with your precious Ogerpon.”

That word sent a spike of fear into Kieran. “Oger… p-pon…?” How…? Had – had he messed up, let slip the name without realising…? The past conversation was scattered in his head, fragmented by lightning – he couldn’t, couldn’t recall…

“Don’t play games with me,” Gustavus hissed. “Your whole town knows its name now. There was a big fuss there some months back, the true story of Ogerpon revealed, or some such, some people even claiming they saw it.”

He knew…?! He knew that much already? Why hadn’t he…

“And it was you who told them the truth, wasn’t it?”

“No…!” Kieran blurted out automatically. His mind was scrambled, fumbling to find words – the right words; he had to get this right…! “I-I didn’t know!” he insisted. “Whatever… whatever happened with the ogre, I didn’t have anythin’ to do with it!” (Which wasn’t even really that untrue, was it?) “I swear, I – I was just, just left out of everything, like al—”

In a snap and a flash, the pain swamped him mid-sentence, again, drowning him out, crushing him beneath his tormentor’s heel like he was nothing. Hurting from more than just the lightning’s wrath, he found out he could scream in the midst of it after all, a tight, strangled noise of fervent anguish that took all of his effort to force out of him. But it still didn’t help – it didn’t make the agony any less overwhelmingly impossible to bear—!

“Let me clarify my previous statement,” continued Gustavus overhead once it ended, as if nothing of note had just happened, as if Kieran wasn’t shuddering and gasping down here, moaning in desperate, precious, fleeting relief. “I know for a fact it was you who told the townspeople the truth about Ogerpon. Several of them outright named you as the one who did so. Whatever led to the ogre’s disappearance following those events, you must have been involved.” The pair of boots that faded into view before him paced impatiently. “I had assumed you’d captured it, but that isn’t the case – so what is?”

Tears rolled sideways down Kieran’s face as he blinked rapidly, trying to process what he’d just heard. He knew. Gustavus knew he’d told the town, so he couldn’t deny that part, but—

“I-I told ‘em, but, j-just…” He swallowed, grasping to string together a coherent thought despite the searing ache in his body and the frenzied pounding of his heart. The Rotom glowed above him, its staticky hum filling his ears, ready to hurt him all over again the instant he said something wrong. “I just… just found out my gramps was hidin’ the real story, s-so I tho… I wanted everyone to know… B-But that’s all…! I swear, I never even saw Ogerpon! I never met—”

His voice cut out, strangled, shut down, as agony overtook him once more. Reeling, knowing it was a hopeless effort, he fought anyway to push back against the raging torrent of pain, screaming with all his might, clinging to the words, the thoughts it was trying to deny from him. He hadn’t met Ogerpon. He hadn’t. If he could just – just hold onto that, his one chance, his one possible way out of this, then maybe this unbearable nightmare would—

“I didn’t!” Kieran screamed urgently, the moment the lightning let go and he had the capacity to form words again. “I’m tellin’ ya, I never met her!”

There was a scuffing sound, one of boots shifting decisively. “…Her?”

Horror stabbed into Kieran’s gut, twisting like a knife. No… No, no, he’d messed up, he’d messed up…!

“Not one of the townspeople mentioned the ogre’s gender when I spoke to them. To discover that on your own, you would have needed to get close enough to perform a Pokédex scan. And yet you claim not to have met it?”

“No…! I just…” Lost, frantic, he scrambled to form thoughts past the urge to scream at himself in frustration for being so stupid. How on earth could he explain this away, how…?! “J-Just a guess!” he blurted out, desperate. “I just… a-always imagined the ogre to be female, that’s all—!”

“Liar!” bellowed Gustavus. “You’re a LIAR!”

With a furious snap of fingers, the lightning lashed into Kieran, searing that word into his mind. Liar! the electricity roared as it coursed through him – liar! – proving just how weak he was as it overwhelmed him with ease – LIAR! – punishing him with its savage agony for daring to think he had the right to lie. Everything was a blur; he was screaming too, wasn’t he…? – lashing back, futilely crying out against it, it hurt so much, the lying, it hurt, it hurt—!

—And then the pain let up, and he choked out a sob, and – and he couldn’t bear it. He didn’t want to be a liar, didn’t want to lie (didn’t get to lie), especially not about Ogerpon…!

“O-Okay!” he conceded, his voice wracked with tears of helpless impotent anger. “Okay, fine, I – I did meet her!” He took a shaking breath through gritted teeth, screwing up his face, something burning and unstoppable bubbling up from within. “And I do know where she went – but I’m never gonna tell you!” burst out of him with every bit of force he could muster. “I’m never gonna let you hurt her! Never, never, never—!”

“Double it!” Gustavus roared, and with a deafening crack like thunder, the lightning’s might crashed down upon Kieran in retaliation. His defiance, his fervour, all of it was swept away by the sheer force of the agony surging through him – and he should have known, he should have known, why had he done that?! He was still fighting, screaming back against it, but what was the point? No matter how much he tried, he was always just met with more pain, again and again (just like he deserved).

And it wasn’t letting up. It was still going…! The electricity wrung him tighter and tighter in its vicious, unrelenting grip, his muscles searing, twisting, contracting so hard he felt like his whole body was on the brink of splintering into pieces. It was so much, too much, he couldn’t do anything, couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe, and there was no end to it, it was never going to end, never, never—!

Then, like some kind of miracle, it was over, and Kieran was writhing there on the floor, sobbing, gasping, choking. Wondering why he’d ever believed he could try and lash out against this, when of course it was just going to make things so much worse. (It only ever made things worse.)

“Never is a very, very long time,” the voice above him hissed, with dangerous emphasis on every word. “Are you quite sure you’re ready to find out just how long it really is?”

The threat sent ice through his veins, that horrible staticky hum ever-present in his ear. Why…? Why had he said that…?! All he’d done was stupidly dash his one hope of ever getting out of this…! Now that he’d gone and admitted that he knew, this would never end. This would never end…!

Wracked by uncontrollable shudders, Kieran pressed his face into the floor, whimpering in abject terror. “Please…” he mumbled hopelessly to nobody at all, his voice broken, choked with sobs, barely coherent. “Please no, please, please, please, please…”

“Pathetic child! Are you making fun of me?!” raged the voice. “Acting like you don’t already know exactly how to make me end this. Where is the ogre?!”

With a wretched grimace, Kieran fell silent. Shivering. Waiting. He didn’t bother trying to brace himself – he knew it’d be too much for him, like it always was.

“Look at you! You’re weak! You are nothing compared to me! So you will tell me!”

With those words, the lightning consumed him – and he was, he was so, so weak, he was nothing in the wake of this all-devouring agony. He gave up trying to scream; it was futile, a pointless waste of effort, as if someone like him would ever, ever be able to fight back against such devastating power.

It kept on for so long, crushing him, smothering him, demonstrating his unassailable worthlessness to him with every moment. This pain was on him, all of it, for being this horribly, helplessly weak. If he’d wanted out of such endless suffering, he should have just been stronger. But he wasn’t. (Of course he wasn’t.)

At last, he collapsed into an instance of brief, merciful relief. As the blinding brightness faded, he found there was a dark curtain shrouding his vision instead. His hair, so much of it, falling over his face. He didn’t know how or when it’d got there, but he welcomed it, blocking out the world from him.

Far above him, a voice was shouting, something about the ogre again. All the way down here in his shuddering heap on the floor, he ignored it, cowering behind his mask of hair, trying not to think about anything at all. Wishing he could just hide, and shrink away, and disappear.

But he couldn’t. And the lightning kept coming.

He didn’t know how many times. His whole world became nothing but the pain, the lightning, this raging force of nature that snatched him up, surged into him, tore him apart, then flung him to the ground, only to do it all over again. He didn’t bother fighting it, couldn’t do anything at all in its grip other than silently, helplessly beg for it to end.

Except it didn’t make a difference, because even when it did let up, it’d never be for long. Always too brief a reprieve, never enough. Each time, the voice above him raged, yelling out words that didn’t matter. He couldn’t allow them to matter. So he ignored them, wretchedly letting himself be swept up over and over into the storm of endless, insurmountable pain.

An eternity later – or maybe not much time at all? it didn’t matter – he found himself somehow in another of the lulls. His body ached even then, lying on the floor, breathing hard, hearing the constant staticky hum, and the voice. He couldn’t make out the words, but he knew what they’d be. Always the same, every time. Demanding to know where the ogre was.

The ogre was with Juliana, of course.

Everything else in his head was a murky blur. He couldn’t remember a thing about where Juliana was right now, or the name of the place she was from, or anything of the sort. He wasn’t even sure he knew where he was from any more. There was nothing, nothing except the cold hard floor, and the lightning, and the pain.

But… the ogre was with Juliana. He knew that much. He always knew that much.

And he couldn’t put either of them in danger. He couldn’t let this monster who’d go this far in hurting even someone like him get anywhere near them. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t.

His body jostled. This was… different. Something was jabbing him in the chest, something other than the lightning. It hurt infinitely less, so he didn’t mind. The words from above had changed to something new… but they still didn’t matter, weren’t worth listening to.

Then another new sensation against his scalp, sharper and more painful, his head being pulled up by his hair. He blinked with the discomfort of it, and as a face swam into view in front of him, he remembered that his eyes were for seeing with. They’d been open already, but he’d forgotten that, somehow.

Something about the sight of the man speaking to him made the words coalesce into actual meaning in his mind. “…beyond all coherence. So I am giving you some time.”

Time…? Did that – could that mean… time without pain…?!

He blinked again, groaning, pushing himself to listen better, in case…!

“…you use it to think very carefully about your situation. Nobody knows where you are. You have no other way out of this. As long as you continue to defy me, your life here will continue to be a living hell. Do you hear me?!”

He did. He didn’t like it, but he heard it, so he let out a wretched whimpering noise. It was the only acknowledgement he could muster.

His head hit the floor again with a thunk. In a flash of light, the Rotom vanished. That ever-present staticky hum that had consumed his whole world – gone.

“I will be back.” With those words, the boots stormed their way out of the room, the door slamming shut behind them. And then he was alone.

It was… over…?

It was over, but… only for now.

For a long, long time, he just lay there. Curled up in a heap, his eyes open but glazed, hidden behind his hair. He didn’t want to do anything except lie here and breathe. That was all he could manage. Just that alone was an effort.

Even with the worst of the pain gone, he still hurt. His body was gripped by a mind-numbing ache in every muscle, his wrists and ankles sore on top of that from the ropes digging into him. Trying to move even a little felt like way too much of an undertaking. And it wasn’t like he could go anywhere anyway.

Somewhere during the endless stretch of this listless, aching, empty nothing, he realised he’d started shivering again. He didn’t think it was cold any more, didn’t see the point in it, yet there it was. It would’ve taken effort to stop it, rather than the opposite, somehow. So he let it happen.

Not much longer after that, without knowing where it came from… Kieran found himself beginning to cry. Small, quiet, sniffling sobs. He didn’t have the energy for more, barely had the energy for even this – but the tears kept coming nonetheless.

This whole thing, this hellish nightmare he was trapped in – it was never, ever going to end. Sooner or later, the man and the Rotom would come back, and the pain would start all over again, and there was nothing, nothing he could do to stop it.

(There never was. There was never anything he could do.)

Through his tears and the hair shrouding his face, his gaze flickered dully around, trying to focus on his surroundings. The bare walls, the metal door, the utter lack of anything else in the room.

There was no point in looking, because there was no way out. Even if he wasn’t tied up, even if he had any strength to move his body, even if the door wasn’t almost certainly locked as well as guarded on the other side, there was just no way someone like him would ever be able to escape. He didn’t have a clue where he was, didn’t know a thing about the organisation that had him trapped here other than how much terrifying power it possessed.

Kieran was useless in the face of all that. Weak and helpless and worthless. (Just like always.)

If… if it were Juliana here instead of him, she’d know what to do. She’d be so much stronger, not a pathetic wreck like him, facing down the bad guys with heroic defiance, finding the perfect way to escape.

But then again… since she was so much stronger – wouldn’t she have just been able to prevent herself from getting captured in the first place? Of course she would have. She was too good to ever end up in here.

Even then, even knowing that, just the thought of it – of the bad guys going after Juliana, of any of this happening to her in his place… it wasn’t right. Kieran was so glad it was him trapped here and not his best friend, so glad that they’d made the stupid mistake of thinking he was worth anything at all and going for him instead.

This way, Juliana, and Ogerpon too – they wouldn’t get hurt. Both of them were so special, so much more important than Kieran could ever be; they deserved absolutely none of this. If somebody had to suffer in this nightmare forever… of course it should be him. That was just obvious. Just how things ought to be.

Kieran still hadn’t stopped crying, but it didn’t make sense why, because this was right. So long as Ogerpon and Juliana were safe, it didn’t matter what happened to him.

He didn’t matter.

~~~​

 

[elyvorg]

Chapter 3​

– This wasn’t supposed to happen –​

The tears had stopped a while ago. Which was good, really, because it meant Kieran didn’t have to think about whatever reason he could have had for crying. He could even mostly ignore the pain, now that it’d lessened to a dull ache. It only really hurt if he tried to move, so he didn’t. He just lay there. Not waiting.

It’d been… some amount of time. Hours, probably a lot of them – only he wasn’t thinking about just how long it’d been, because the longer it’d been, the more likely it became that any minute now—

Kieran wasn’t thinking about any of that. He wasn’t. He was just… existing. That was all. Nothing else. He was absolutely not waiting for anything at all.

And then the faint sounds of approach came from outside the room.

An icy spear of sheer terror stabbed into Kieran. The pain reawakened, flaring up in every muscle like it had never faded, just a fraction of the agony that was in store for him again—!

He struggled through sharp, rapid breaths to stamp down this pointless fear, get a handle on it before it consumed him. He didn’t matter. He didn’t, so this was fine, it had to be…!

Except – the sounds from outside were… different to what he’d have expected…? A whole variety of footstep noises, not just one set, and a voice, faint and muffled though it was, that sounded higher-pitched than the voice he’d been dreading, strangely almost… familiar—?!

“This one?” Kieran could make it out now, it was right in front of the door— “He’s in here?”

It was – he could barely comprehend it, but, there was no mistaking it…!

“Kiki!”

“Sis…?!”

A sudden mess of confused, indescribable, overwhelming emotion swelled up inside Kieran and burst out of him in a sob. “Sis, please, get me out of here!” he found himself crying out.

It was kind of a pointless plea when she was already working on doing just that, furiously rattling the locked door handle. But… it felt good to say it, somehow.

The rattling stopped after a moment. “Kiki, if you can hear me, get back from the door, okay?” Carmine’s voice warned. “We’re gonna break it down!”

“But… I can’t… move…!” he protested, struggling again to do so, but it only made the pain worsen, and that wasn’t even getting into the stupid ropes.

Instead of a response from Carmine, something powerful slammed into the other side of the door with a massive crunch, visibly denting the metal inwards.

It occurred to Kieran that his sister didn’t seem to be able to hear him – his voice, even with all his force in it, was still just a feeble croak. At least he was probably far enough back to be safe anyway? …He hoped.

He flinched as another huge impact buckled the door so much that strips of light made their way in around the edges. One of the hinges had snapped completely. Did Carmine even have a Pokémon that could deal this kind of damage to a metal door…?

“That’s it! Just one more!” came her voice, clear as day now. “They don’t call it Breaking Swipe for nothing!”

Wait, huh—?!

With an oh-so-familiar roar and a final heavy crunch, the crumpled door was defeated. It swung open, hanging limply on just its top hinge, revealing—

“Dragonite…?”

There she was, framed by the light from outside, twisting to peer urgently in at him with… concern…?

Before Kieran could begin to wrap his head around that, Carmine rushed into the room, her Mightyena at her heels. “Kiki! Oh, I knew we’d be able to find you, I just knew it, I knew it!” She skidded to her knees in front of him, pulling him upright despite the groan that escaped him as his stiff muscles protested. “But look at the state of you!” she went on, frantic, almost babbling as she looked him over. “Sheesh, as if locking you in here like some kind of criminal wasn’t bad enough, they had to go and tie you up, too?!”

Her hands fumbled with his bonds for a moment before she withdrew and went for a Pokéball instead. “Leavanny!” The leafcutter bug appeared beside them in a flash of light. “Cut Kiki’s ropes for him – just… just be careful.”

As Leavanny got to work, Kieran’s mind was numb, struggling to keep up. Everything was happening so fast, so unexpectedly, so completely the opposite of what he’d been dreading and trying not to think about for all those hours. Carmine was here, and Dragonite, and…

“How…?” he mumbled, trying to latch onto just one out of so many questions. “How did you find me…?” Nobody was supposed to have known where he was, right? He’d thought…

“You’ve got Dragonite to thank for that!” said Carmine eagerly. Kieran blinked. “She just showed up at the Academy entrance this morning, freaking out something crazy, and – and you weren’t there.” She grimaced and glanced away. “We figured out that she wanted us to follow her, and she led us all the way here. Then once we were inside this place, I had Mightyena track your scent to find you – pretty smart of me, huh?”

“But…” Kieran fumbled to sift through all this information, trying to make sense of it. Dragonite was here. Dragonite had gone and fetched help, had come all this way, to save him.

She was still crouching there just past the doorway, too big to comfortably fit through. Her gaze shifted between him and the room outside, as if she was on the lookout for danger – protecting him, even now. Mightyena, too, had positioned herself near the door, facing outwards, like a guard dog.

“But… when I was attacked, I thought…” he mumbled, “I thought Dragonite got knocked out…?” She had, hadn’t she? She’d taken at least two Ice Beams, maybe more – he hadn’t been able to see, but…

“Huh,” Carmine remarked. “I guess she must’ve forced herself back to consciousness way faster than normal, in time to follow the bad guys who took you. Just goes to show how worried she was about you!”

She said it without hesitation, as if it was obvious. As if Dragonite would never have done anything else.

“Dragonite… I…” Kieran murmured, his breath catching in his throat, the confusing mess of emotions inside him gaining yet another indescribable flavour. He stared in astonishment at the big orange dragon – his big orange dragon, who met his eye and gave a low, rumbling croon.

“And speaking of worried, so was I! C’mere!”

All of a sudden, he found himself pulled tight against Carmine – too tight, reawakening the pain in his stiff muscles, and he couldn’t help but cry out. “Ow! Sis! It hurts!”

“Ah! Sorry! I’m sorry!” She released him and pushed him back in an instant, tensed up like he was something fragile that might break any second. Then she frowned. “Hold on, it’s not just me – you’re hurt…!” Her thumb brushed against a bruise on his shoulder. That was just from him hitting the water, but…

Leavanny had finished cutting the ropes, Kieran realised, and yet his arms were still there, stiff and aching, behind his back. Carmine was running her hands down them, gently testing their mobility – or lack thereof. “You’re paralysed?!” she added, aghast.

Some detached, strategy-obsessed part of Kieran’s brain helpfully pointed out that with that many Thunderbolts, paralysis was practically guaranteed. The rest of him shuddered.

“Kiki.” Carmine’s voice had lowered to one of deadly seriousness. Something fierce and dangerous burned in her eyes as they locked onto his. “These people – did they hurt you?!”

Kieran let out a choked whimper, closing his eyes with a grimace, his mind beset by flashes of lightning. All he could answer with was a nod.

A quiet growl came from near the door, too rough to be from Dragonite – Mightyena’s.

“Who was it? Who did this to you?” demanded Carmine. “Tell me who, because I swear to you, I will grind them into dust.”

“I—” Kieran bit back the reflex to say he didn’t know; he didn’t want to lie to her. “I-I think… he was the boss…? G-Gus… something…” He shivered, opening his eyes to try and combat the irrational sense that the man was there in the room, towering over him, about to bring down the lightning once more with him helpless to— No. Carmine was right here, but… “P-please…” he mumbled, seeing his sister’s expression still demanding, “it hurts…”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, Kiki, I’m sorry—! Hang on a sec…” She fished inside her bag for a moment and came out with another Pokéball and a Cheri berry. “Always gotta keep a few emergency berries on hand!” she said with a definitely-forced smile as she popped the fruit into his mouth.

Kieran made a face before biting down on it. At least the painful spicy heat was something to focus on that wasn’t the aching all over his body and the awful memories playing at the edges of his mind.

As he swallowed, he noticed Carmine had sent out her Sinistcha, who floated just in front of his face, rattling in… invitation? “Sinistcha’s healing isn’t as potent on humans, but it should help,” Carmine explained. “Go on!”

Kieran peered at the green liquid that seemed to be an extension of the goopy ghost Pokémon’s body within the teacup. He’d seen other Pokémon drink Sinistcha’s matcha a bunch of times from its Hospitality ability, but he’d never thought about… what it was they were drinking exactly. With a wince, he closed his eyes and firmly decided he wasn’t going to think about it this time either. If it’d ease the pain, it was worth it.

It tasted surprisingly like actual matcha, it turned out, if a little more viscous. The initial bitter flavour helped combat the spice, then after a moment, it gave way to a pleasant, mellow sweetness. There was something strangely soothing about it.

“Well?” Carmine asked as Sinistcha drew back. “Feel any better?”

“I…” Kieran winced as he tried to focus on the state his body was in, but… it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been. He felt looser, almost lighter, somehow. Just a little more like himself. The ache was still there, but fainter. Manageable.

And more than anything – he drew his arms forward of his own accord, flexing his hands. He could move freely. He had control again. “I think so, yeah,” he answered. “Th-Thanks.”

Carmine smiled at him, a real one this time, and Kieran returned it shakily, something heavy catching in his throat. His big sister was right here. She’d come to rescue him, and he was going to get out of here, and he’d never have to go through any – his breath hitched abruptly – any more of That—

All at once, the huge mess of emotions inside him found their way out. With a sudden lurch, Kieran clung to his sister as tightly as he could and broke into massive, desperate sobs.

“Huh…? Kiki…?!” He felt her flinch in surprise, but he didn’t let go, burying his face in her hair, the tears surging forth like a dam had burst. After a moment, she held him back, one arm around his heaving shoulders, the other gently stroking his hair. “I-I’m here, alright?” she said, a hint of flustered uncertainty in her voice. “I’ve… I’ve got you.”

He continued to shudder with loud, hysterical sobs, wringing out all of the nightmarish agony, the lightning, the helplessness, the indescribable relief that it was over, it was over, he was safe now. Everything he’d been through was allowed to hurt, was allowed to matter, at last, because it was over.

Carmine was holding him, increasingly tight, and as he breathed in her familiar scent between sobs, he remembered that – that he mattered. At least a little bit. He mattered to her.

His sister let out a choked noise above him, not unlike one of his own. “Dammit,” she mumbled, her voice strained. “Kiki, what did they do to you…?!”

Kieran flinched, his breaths coming tighter. All of it was flooding out of him right now, but the thought of trying to get actual words around it was too much, too impossible—

“S-Sorry!” Carmine exclaimed, her hold loosening just a bit. “Rhetorical question! You don’t need to answer that!”

He relaxed a little, still buried in her shoulder. The flood had begun to die down some, lessening to a stream of shaky whimpers.

“But – but listen, you’re safe now, okay?” she went on. Gently, she pried him off her so that she could look at him, brushing some of his hair out of his face. Her eyes were watery too, but a familiar spark of fierceness burned in them nonetheless. “I’m not gonna let those pathetic wastes of human flesh lay another finger on you, d’you hear me?!”

Sniffling, Kieran broke into a smile. “Yeah, Sis,” he said. “I know.”

Man, she could drive him mad sometimes, but… sometimes she was the best big sister in the world.

He took a moment to collect himself, wiping his face and having a much-needed drink thanks to a tissue and water bottle she produced for him. He felt a little better now, at least – like he often did these days after a good long cry.

“And guess what?” Carmine was saying as she unfastened one of the bags around her waist – she’d been wearing two of them, Kieran realised. She passed that one to him. “We even found where they were keeping your stuff on the way here! Your Pokémon are fine – it doesn’t look like they were hurt. Dragonite’s a little tired from the flight here, but we healed her up with some potions back at the Academy.”

“My Pokémon…!” Kieran murmured, opening the pocket where his Pokéballs were lined up. He hadn’t been expecting the kidnappers to have done anything to his Pokémon beyond keeping them away from him, but still… it was a huge relief to see them safe.

Five of the balls rattled in their pocket, the cries of each Pokémon echoing faintly from inside, relieved in turn to see him safe. Kieran laid his hand over them, choking back another sob. “Th-Thanks, you guys…”

He resisted the urge to send them all out – now wasn’t the time for a big reunion. Not when he still needed to get out of here.

As he turned to fasten the bag around his own waist, Kieran noticed a yellow cloth lying on the floor just behind him. It took him a moment to register what it was – his hairband.

He winced as he pictured himself lying helpless down there on the floor, thrashing and gasping in agony. …Yeah, it made sense that would have worked it loose, wouldn’t it.

Kieran picked up the headband and slipped it over his wrist. His hair was too much of a dishevelled mess to bother with fixing right now.

Carmine had recalled Leavanny and Sinistcha, leaving just Mightyena – and Dragonite. “We shouldn’t hang around here much longer,” she said, catching his eye. “You up for walking?”

Tentatively, Kieran nodded. He reached an arm around her shoulder to get her help in heaving himself to his feet. Standing up was still a bit of a struggle, but with her there to lean on, he could manage it. “Y-Yeah, I think so.”

“Good thing, too!” said Carmine, her arm tightly around him to support his weight, a cheeky twinkle in her eye. “‘Cause if you couldn’t, I was gonna have to give you a piggy-back ride outta here!”

Kieran spluttered, indignant. “I’m too old for that now!”

His sister chuckled and beamed an infuriating grin. “Just saying! Offer’s still open if you need it!”

Smiling despite himself, feeling a little lighter, Kieran made his way towards the door with his sister’s help, one step at a time. Mightyena slunk quietly outside as they approached, leaving just Dragonite.

She was still standing there as steadfast as ever, peering at him, her expression unmistakably one of affection and concern. Had… had she really always looked at him like that, and he’d never noticed it?

Overcome with emotion, Kieran staggered a couple more steps forwards and just sort of fell into her, his free arm reaching around her in a hug. “Th-Thank you…!” he gasped amongst a renewed burst of sniffling sobs. “I-I didn’t… I thought…”

His voice cut off, choked with guilt, because how could he even finish that sentence? How could he tell her that he’d been afraid she didn’t care about him, after she’d followed his kidnappers all this way and then gone back to fetch help, all while badly hurt on the brink of unconsciousness, all for him? She was hugging him back as best she could with her size, one paw on his shoulder, her snout nuzzling the top of his head, her low croon of affection and relief reverberating through him.

“Th-Thank you…” Kieran managed to say again, still feeling like it was thoroughly inadequate. She’d saved him from this nightmare. Without her to lead the way, it’d have taken Carmine so much longer to track him down – how much more would he have had to suffer in the meantime?

And… why hadn’t it even crossed his mind that of course his own big sister would be out there, looking for him, searching forever until she found him?

He felt Carmine tug at him, a gentle reminder that they were in the middle of escaping and they needed to keep moving. There was still so much swirling through his mind, but he could finish wrapping his head around it all later.

Kieran took a step back from Dragonite. Here outside the room he’d been trapped in, it was just a narrow corridor lined with a bunch of other doors – barely enough space for the big dragon to manoeuvre in. He tried to recall Dragonite to her Poké Ball, only for it to vibrate in his hand as she resisted the beam with a soft yip of protest. He stopped, hesitating.

“Don’t worry, Dragonite,” Carmine told her. “I’ve got him. He’ll be safe.” A bark of agreement came from Mightyena by her feet.

She was still worrying about him? “Yeah,” he managed to say, looking up at Dragonite. “Rest up. Just… just in case I need you later.”

That seemed to satisfy her, and she relented and allowed herself to be recalled.

Leaning on Carmine, Kieran let her steer him through the corridor as Mightyena padded along just ahead of them. Walking was becoming a little more manageable, though he still wasn’t sure how far he’d be able to go without his sister’s support.

At the end, they reached a door that led out into a much more open room. Huge square pillars ran down the middle of it, with several other doors in the distance leading who knew where. There was no sign of the outside, not even a single window. It was all cold artificial lights and metal – somehow exactly the kind of thing Kieran had been imagining as the huge imposing villain base he’d been trapped inside.

That sense of overwhelm, of helplessness to escape this place alone, gripped him for just a moment. But… he wasn’t alone. His sister was right here, with her Pokémon leading the way. They could do this.

And… he had his own Pokémon back now. He could defend himself, too, if it came to that.

“H-Hey!” came a voice from somewhere near the floor. Kieran looked down to see a man in that dark outfit, thoroughly trussed up and immobilised by the kind of silk threads a bug Pokémon might use. Was this… the guy who’d been guarding him earlier?

Carmine flashed the guard a dangerous smile. “Oh dear, still uncomfy down there, are we? Well, maybe you lowlifes should have thought twice before kidnapping my brother, hm?!” Mightyena punctuated her words with a sharp growl.

Kieran stared at the unfortunate man for a little longer as she steered him away. He’d almost forgotten just how scary his sister could be on his behalf sometimes.

He glanced up at her warily, but she just beamed at him. “Stun Spore and String Shot make a great combo for dealing with bad guys, don’tcha think?”

He wasn’t even sure what to say to that.

“Still, these guys aren’t total pushovers,” she went on, not waiting for an answer anyway. “The other half of my team’s down from battling my way here. Good thing I kept Mightyena out of things, or…” She trailed off.

“Where… what even is this place?” Kieran managed to ask, still somewhere between awed and intimidated by how elaborate this base seemed to be.

“You don’t know? Tch, I guess they must’ve knocked you out when they brought you in here, huh,” Carmine remarked, scowling. “This’ll surprise you, then – we’re on a ship! Some big fancy abandoned ship, just sitting by an island off the coast of Unova. Something about Team Plasma, apparently? Not so abandoned on the inside, though, it turns out.”

Team Plasma…? That was… one of the teams that the boss had mentioned recruiting former members of to his new group, wasn’t it? It figured that they might reuse an old Plasma base, then, if that was what this was.

“And get this,” Carmine added. “Y’know what this gang of losers call themselves? ‘Team Hydra’. Guess they think they’re hard to kill or something, but we’ll see about that!”

Despite his sister’s triumphant grin, hearing that name just sent a shiver down Kieran’s spine. He remembered the insignia on the leader’s – Gustavus’s – jacket: the three-headed dragon, with its middle head the largest.

“But hey, never mind them.” Carmine nudged him, oblivious to his discomfort. “You’ve got a way better hydra than any of those chumps!”

Even back then, it’d reminded him of his own Hydrapple, one of his most treasured Pokémon partners. Like the universe was just rubbing in how horribly, uncomfortably similar to him that man was.

“I… I dunno about that,” he mumbled, hiding his gaze from his sister behind his hair.

At least he was saved from having to think about this further as they reached a corner of the large room. There were no doors nearby, just a glowing green circular panel on the floor. Mightyena stepped onto it ahead of them, and in a flash of light, she… vanished?

“C’mon,” Carmine said, like this was totally normal. “We’d better step on together, or it might get weird.”

Kieran tried to mutter his confusion, but with her already pulling him forward, he didn’t want to find out what that weirdness could be. As they stepped onto the panel, a sudden blinding light enveloped everything. Kieran flinched, his breath hitching, clinging tighter to his sister in a split-second panic – but it didn’t hurt at all. His hold on Carmine kept him upright through a dizzying lurch, and then the light faded, and they stepped off, and…

“Huh?!” He blinked as he took in the entirely different room they were in now. “W-Wowzers… We’re… somewhere else?!”

“Yeah, warp tiles, duh! You’ve heard of them, right?” said Carmine. Mightyena was there waiting for them, and the two of them continued following her lead through the ship. “Didn’t we even use one as a shortcut out of Area Zero that time?”

“Y-Yeah, but, still…” Kieran had known about the technology existing, but it was the kind of hi-tech thing exclusive to big corporations, and fancy laboratories, and… and evil villain bases, he supposed. “And they’re all over this place?” He smiled a little, despite himself. “Way cool… this really is kinda like a spy movie!”

“Haha, you’re right!” Carmine grinned and struck a dramatic pose with her free arm as they moved along. “Just call me the beautiful, brilliant spy heroine, swooping in to save the day!”

Kieran grinned back. His sister really would make a good hero in a spy story.

But as for him… He was just the poor schmuck who needed rescuing, nothing more.

His mood suddenly dampened, Kieran dropped his gaze to the floor. “Sorry, Sis…”

“Huh?!” she responded. “Where in the world did that come from? What have you got to be sorry for, Kiki?”

“For… for still relyin’ on you so much,” he said, shrinking in her grip. “I’d – I’d really been tryin’ to get better with that, but—”

“Seriously?!” she protested, cutting him off. “What are you talkin’ about? This has nothing to do with any of that stuff! I mean, sheesh, these guys took your Pokémon, then had you guarded, locked up, tied up and paralysed!” She counted each thing off on the fingers of her free hand to emphasise her point. “Nobody could get out of all that on their own!”

Kieran couldn’t help but feel like the heroes they saw in the movies would find a way, somehow – except that the imaginary hero he pictured in his head somehow ended up being Juliana instead. For a split second, he wanted to think that she could too, but… no. That was a stupid thought, wasn’t it? Even someone as strong as her would have needed some help, surely, if she’d been trapped just like he had.

“C’mon, Kiki.” Carmine nudged him again encouragingly, oblivious to where his thoughts had ended up. “Of course I’m gonna come save you from something this bad. That’s just what big sisters are for!”

It… it was, wasn’t it? Maybe it was still okay to rely on her for at least some things.

“‘Sides,” she went on, “you saved me and the whole town from that Pecha-whatsit thingy, didn’t you? Even I couldn’t get out of that one by myself! So just… think of this as me returning the favour, if you like.”

The Pecharunt thing…? Almost on instinct, Kieran wanted to protest that all the real heroics there had been Juliana’s doing, just like always, but… he supposed he had helped out, too. At least a little.

They kept on making their way through the base, passing a few more silk-bound grunts that Carmine glared silent daggers at as they walked by. Kieran was ready this time for the lurch of the next warp tile they took – but as soon as they stepped out into the new location, everything was suddenly a lot noisier.

This was just another empty set of corridors, but further away behind the walls, he could hear the telltale sounds of battle: the roars and cries of Pokémon, the blasts of attacks, the indistinct voices of trainers yelling commands.

Before Kieran could ask his sister what was going on, she grinned down at him. “Hah! Sounds like the Elite Four are still giving those grunts a good thrashing!”

“Huh?” Kieran blinked – yet another new fact that he hadn’t been expecting. “The Elite Four…? From… Blueberry?”

“Yeah, keep up!” He’d almost stopped moving out of sheer bewilderment, but Carmine kept pulling him along. “C’mon, even I’m not reckless enough that I’d come charging in here all on my own – not if I didn’t have to, at least.”

It suddenly hit Kieran what his sister had meant all the times she’d said ‘we’. He’d thought she was just talking about herself and her Pokémon, but…

“They… came to help… save me…?”

“Duh! You’re their friend, silly, of course they came to help!” she insisted. “Even Drayton – man, you wouldn’t believe how serious he got all of a sudden when we realised you were missing. Maybe that bozo’s not so bad after all… but don’t go telling him I said that, okay?! I’d never hear the end of it!”

Drayton, too? That was… actually, genuinely unexpected. On reflection, perhaps the other three being here to help wasn’t such a surprise, not really. But Kieran had been under the not-so-subtle impression that Drayton still basically hated him for everything he’d done as Champion, despite his efforts to make amends. And yet… Huh.

Something else he’d have to puzzle out later. Carmine supported him carefully up a flight of stairs, and then suddenly they were up on the top deck of the ship – outside.

Kieran took a long, shaky breath, not having realised quite how suffocated he’d felt in there. He’d never been more glad to taste fresh air and see the sky. It looked like early evening or so – had it really been less than a day?

His sister seemed preoccupied, peering at something on her phone for a moment. “It’s this way, right?” she muttered to herself, turning towards another door that wasn’t far away. “You got his scent, Mightyena?” The canine Pokémon barked an affirmative, and Carmine gave a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Good girl.”

With that, still following Mightyena’s lead, she pulled Kieran towards the door.

“Wait!” he protested. “Wh-Where are we going?” He’d thought they’d been about to leave, but…

“There’s some big lab kind of room this way,” she told him. “Well, at least as far as I can make out from the floor plans Penny sent us.”

Even Penny…? Kieran frowned. He couldn’t quite place why, but something about the fact that their friends from Paldea knew about this too was… very, very worrying.

“Seems like a real important room, at any rate,” Carmine was saying. They were through the door now, into another open corridor-like space with little in it except for a single warp tile at the far end. “We figured if the big boss man’s gonna go anywhere when his base is under attack, it’ll be there.” Her face darkened into a scowl. “Juliana went on ahead to wipe the floor with him, but she better have left some for me – I’m gonna give that lowlife scumbag a piece of my—”

“Juliana?!” Kieran blurted out, his stomach dropping in terror. This was it. This was why. “She’s here? She’s battling – him?!” This was all wrong, this couldn’t be happening – what if she’d brought Ogerpon?!

“Yeah, she flew here from Paldea as fast as she—”

“No… no, no, she can’t be…!” Of course she’d have brought Ogerpon, she’d be pulling out all the stops, bringing her strongest fighters – but, she didn’t know—!

“Huh?” said Carmine, stopping them both in their tracks, wasting time, not getting the problem…! “Of course she can, you’re her friend too, duh! Or did you go forgetting that again?”

“No, that’s not it!” Kieran wrenched himself off her, stumbling his way past Mightyena, towards the warp tile – he had to warn Juliana…! “She can’t be here!”

“Kiki, wait!” Carmine called out, frantic. “Take it easy! What’s gotten into you?!”

“He wants Ogerpon!” Kieran exclaimed. “That’s why he—” His voice cut out, the words ‘tortured me’ too huge, catching in his throat, choking him. At a sudden halt, he gave his head a shake, gasping in a breath, fighting to stay upright past the lightning flashing through his mind. “He… He was tryin’ to make me tell him where Ogerpon is! And now she’s here!”

He looked back at his sister just long enough to see her raise a hand to her mouth, her expression horrified, as the stakes dawned on her. That was all he needed – Kieran turned and ran for the warp tile as fast as his shaky legs could carry him, desperately hoping he wouldn’t be too late, that he’d still be able to stop this, somehow…!

His foot hit the tile, and the blinding flash of disorientation swept over him—

“—finish it with Ivy Cudgel!”

No…!

He tried to keep running, but the dizziness was too much – the room lurched, and he only made it a few steps before collapsing to his hands and knees. Ahead of him, he heard the crunching smash of stone, looked up in time to see a grey-cloaked Ogerpon slamming her cudgel into the middle head of a Hydrapple (why did it have to be a Hydrapple?).

Juliana was there too, on the near side behind Ogerpon, and Gustavus was at the back, recalling his fallen hydra, and – and this was an important room, just as his sister had guessed, because of the huge, elaborate machine that dominated the far wall. The machine that Gustavus had gloated about, that would mind-control Ogerpon and force out her power, this had to be it – and Ogerpon was right here…!

“No!” Kieran cried out, as loud as he could. “Ogerpon! Get – get her away…!”

“Kieran?!” Juliana twisted around at the sound of his voice, her eyes widening in shock and worry as she saw him there. “What happened to you? Are you alright?!”

Ogerpon turned along with her trainer, her face hidden behind the Cornerstone Mask. “Popon?!”

“Re… recall her!” gasped Kieran, reaching out uselessly with one hand, his clumsy, aching body resisting his efforts to do any more than that. “Now!”

Ignoring the soft whoosh of the warp tile behind him, he looked up at Gustavus helplessly, and he could have sworn the man caught his eye for just a split-second before breaking into a twisted grin.

“You’re MINE!” he declared, and in one swift, fluid motion—

—he threw a Master Ball right at Ogerpon’s back.

Time seemed to stand still, everything in the room frozen except for the ball. It sailed through the air, bouncing off Ogerpon from behind before she could dodge or block it.

And it sucked her inside, as if nothing were more natural.

“Huh?” spluttered Juliana.

The ball fell to the ground and began to wobble. Kieran watched it helplessly, hoping against hope that somehow, magically, Ogerpon would just break out (just like he’d half-expected Terapagos to), and everything would be okay.

But she didn’t. The Master Ball did as it was made to do, trapping the legendary Pokémon inside it with a click.

“But…” Juliana had Ogerpon’s Friend Ball in her hand now, pointing it uselessly at the ball on the floor. Hers seemed to have gone inactive. “How…?! You can’t just…”

“Snag Ball,” said Gustavus, briefly pressing buttons on a Pokédex, casually shifting another Pokémon to his PC like Ogerpon was just his now, as he strode forwards to pick up the Master Ball. He caught Kieran’s eye again and gave a victorious smirk. “Didn’t I tell you where my grunts came from?”

Kieran didn’t have a clue what that meant, but neither did he care. Something acrid and appalled was bubbling up inside him, boiling into a haze of white-hot outrage. This was like some kind of sick joke, just rubbing it in. The nerve of him, from behind, with a Master Ball, like—

With a scream of fury, Kieran was on his feet, throwing himself bodily at Gustavus, grasping for the ball in his hand. “You can’t do that!” he yelled. “She’s not yours!!”

He wrestled with the man, fighting to pry the Master Ball out of his grip with whatever it took, smaller and weaker but fuelled by the sheer force of his disgusted anger at the one who’d dared to throw it, for acting like he had the right to just take what would never be his…!

In frenzied desperation, he sank his teeth into one of Gustavus’s fingers. The man gave an indignant yelp, the hand loosened, and Kieran seized the ball, firmly in his own grasp.

An instant later, the back of that same hand slammed into his face. The world pitched, and he hit the floor, hard, one whole side of his body lighting up with pain.

Kieran’s head was spinning, but, the ball – he still had it…! Nothing else mattered – he just had to hold onto it, as tight as he—

A heavy boot smashed down onto his hand, crushing it. He cried out in agony, his grip lost, the ball rolling away – no…!

Before he could try to reach out further, the boot jabbed into his stomach like a piston, right below his ribs, and suddenly Kieran couldn’t even breathe.

He gasped and wheezed, pain flaring all over, struggling to suck in air, helplessly watching through his hair as Gustavus bent down to pick up the Master Ball again like nothing had just happened. Like all of Kieran’s efforts had been utterly useless.

And then a guttural growl from behind him rose up into a hellish shriek of rage.

“Mightyena!” Carmine roared. Kieran twisted his head back, catching a skewed glimpse of a terrifying wildfire blazing in his sister’s eyes as she pointed straight at Gustavus. “Thunder Fang him!”

The canine Pokémon snarled, leaping in to tackle Gustavus to the side. He hit the ground with Mightyena on top of him, her teeth crackling with sparks – and she sank them right into the man’s shoulder. Trapped, helpless, Kieran watched Gustavus’s body tremble and jerk horrifically, his face a grimace of agony from the lightning coursing through him.

Gustavus let out a strangled scream once the electricity faded and Mightyena released her fangs. His eyes wide, bulging, he stared frantically between the Pokémon pinning him there and the trainer towering over him.

“That’s right! See how you like it, you sick bastard!!” Carmine thundered down at her victim, twisted by a monstrously wild, triumphant fury. “Again, Mightyena!”

Without a second’s hesitation, Mightyena charged up her fangs once more and dug them into Gustavus’s other shoulder. The nightmarish lightning and convulsions grew even worse – Kieran was immobilised, unable to tear his gaze away, hurting from more than just physical pain as phantom electric agony shot through him too at the sight of it.

The moment the attack faded, his sister’s Pokémon let out a furious roar right in Gustavus’s face before he could even try to scream, her lightning-laced fangs terrifyingly close to his throat. Everything was closing in on Kieran, crushing him, smothering him – he couldn’t do anything, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even breathe—

“Carmine, stop it!”

It was Juliana’s voice. Her reassuring firmness cut through the nightmare, letting Kieran gasp in a breath.

“Please…” she said, and he finally managed to look away from his sister’s victim to see Juliana staring pointedly right at Kieran himself.

Her fire halted and hesitant, Carmine followed her gaze – and then her eyes widened in horror as she caught sight of her brother.

“Kiki… I…!”

She screwed her eyes shut, clenching a fist over her chest. Her shoulders shook as she took several long, shaking breaths through gritted teeth.

When Carmine opened her eyes again, they looked… safer. Still with anger simmering in there, but – more like the big sister Kieran knew.

“Mightyena, return,” she said, her voice tight, holding out her Pokémon’s ball without looking at her.

The large canine vanished from on top of Gustavus. His body jolted in an effort to get up, but before he could, Carmine strode forwards and planted a foot firmly in his chest herself. “Don’t think you’re going anywhere,” she hissed.

Gustavus’s arm made awkward, jerking movements, like he was trying to reach for her leg but couldn’t, somehow. He was scowling furiously, probably in an attempt to mask the pain.

“Oh, paralysed already, are we?” simpered Carmine with a venomous smile. “Good.” She pulled out another Pokéball. “Leavanny, make sure this waste of human flesh won’t be moving another inch.”

As Leavanny emerged and got to work with String Shot, Kieran managed to relax a little. Carmine was just immobilising the man now, nothing more. That was… that was better. It meant he could focus on other things, like trying to breathe properly – that blow to his stomach had knocked the wind out of him something fierce, never mind what’d come after.

“Kieran!” Juliana hurried to crouch beside him, one hand on his shoulder, her expression full of worry. “Are you alright?”

Before he could even try to answer, a staticky hum pierced his ears, faint but hideously familiar. His body tensed, pain shooting through his muscles – no, he wasn’t alright at all…!

That Rotom, it was here, where was it…?! There, behind Juliana, emerging from the huge machine against the back wall. The Rotom jittered forwards in Kieran’s tilted, hair-shrouded view, and for a terrifying moment it seemed to be coming for him. But the reality was even worse – lying there in its path, forgotten where Gustavus had dropped it upon being attacked, was the Master Ball with Ogerpon inside.

“Ohhgh…!” Kieran gasped. He was too weak to get up, wheezing for breath too hard to form coherent words, but he had to tell Juliana, warn her – “Ohhhhghph…!”

“It – It’s okay!” Juliana tried to reassure him, still worrying about him like he mattered right now. He flopped one hand uselessly on the floor in an attempt to point, but his crushed, stinging fingers weren’t working properly. “Don’t, don’t try to move, if you can’t…”

No – the Rotom was right there, it had the Master Ball, it was already taking it back to the machine, it was going to be too late—!

“B-Buhl…” spluttered Kieran in desperate helpless frustration, trying for a different word, an easier one – “Ball!”

“The ball…? Ogerpon!” Juliana whirled around, just in time to see the Rotom deposit the Master Ball onto a pedestal at the front of the machine and then zip back inside it. Mechanical claws extended around the ball, locking it in place as the machine lit up and began to hum and whir into life.

“He had a sixth?! I should’ve thought—!” Juliana exclaimed, rushing up to the machine. “No! Give her back!” A burst of sparks flowed through the pedestal, shocking her as she tried to grab the ball. “Aagh!” She flinched back, clutching her arm.

A twisted, disjointed sort of chuckle arose from off to the side – Gustavus, laughing in spite of his paralysis and his almost-finished silk bonds.

“What’s so funny?” Carmine demanded. “What’s that big machine doing to Ogerpon?!”

“It’s too late…!” gloated Gustavus, his tone deranged and hysterical. “Even if you could get past Rotom, the ball and the machine are connected now! Removing it won’t change a thing! The ogre is mine to control!”

“Control her?!” Carmine’s gaze snapped to the floor, where Gustavus’s hand was awkwardly, surreptitiously trying to work some kind of small device out of his pocket despite his near-immobility. “Leavanny, that thing, destroy it! Now!”

Quick as a flash, the bug Pokémon kicked the device across the floor and sliced it clean in two with one of her blades. Had that been… a remote control for the machine? Then, that meant…!

“Hah!” Gustavus spat. “You really think I wouldn’t have installed an automatic setting as a failsafe? That alone should be more than enough for the ogre’s might to overwhelm you.”

“Automatic?” Juliana’s gaze snapped between him and the machine, frantic. “There’s… really nothing we can do?!”

“Ogerpon, come forth!” crowed Gustavus in triumph. “Show me your true power, and get rid of these fools!”

With a flourish of lights all around the machine’s exterior, the Master Ball on the pedestal released Ogerpon into the middle of the room.

Kieran braced himself for something terrible, but as she stood there, she seemed almost… normal? …Almost. She wasn’t wearing a mask, which let him see the look in her eyes – or an unnerving lack thereof, staring vacantly ahead.

“Ogerpon?” Juliana crept around to her front, peering at her carefully. “Are you alright?”

Ogerpon didn’t respond. One by one, all four of her masks floated out from underneath her poncho and began to circle around her, animated by some invisible force.

“Are you in there?” her trainer tried, waving a hand and forcing a smile. “It’s me – Juliana.”

“Po…?” Blinking, Ogerpon looked up in recognition, herself again – but then her gaze flitted anxiously between the masks circling her, like this wasn’t under her control. Like she couldn’t stop them.

“No… Get back, Juliana…” Kieran found himself saying, gripped with a horrible apprehension. “I-It’s not safe…!” This machine, the power Gustavus had – he’d dared to hope for a moment, but even Ogerpon couldn’t…

Juliana backed up just a small step, not taking her eyes off her Pokémon.

“Grr… Grah…” Ogerpon gasped, increasingly frantic, trembling from either fear, or something worse. “Ponoooo!” she cried out, fixing her trainer with an urgent, desperate stare. Eyes widening, Juliana backed away faster.

With a surging thrum of power from the machine, dark lightning seized Ogerpon’s body out of nowhere, making her arch and grimace in pain. All four masks around her exploded at once into dazzling, blinding Terastallisation.

And Ogerpon screamed.

~~~​

Spoiler: A/N

Whoops, did I say this was a Kieran whumpfic? Well, perhaps he might not have been the only member of the DLC cast that I had plans to put through the wringer here.