Zane didn’t like it here. He really didn’t like it anywhere, but the colosseum he particularly disdained. They always just showed up to the place for no reason and had to do some stupid performance for a stupid crowd, which he, personally, considered stupid.
This time was different, though. He’d had some dream of a vague voice asking for help, which was standard fare, even if the voice was a bit grumpier sounding than usual. Everyone had their off days, so he was sure stupid ethereal voices that didn’t tell him anything he actually needed to know were the same. But when he “answered the call,” he woke up in this Godforsaken city.
He wanted none of it, so he promptly decided to lay down and fo back to sleep. He wasn’t performing for a crowd. If sleep got him into this mess, it would get him out. Yet, as he tossed and turned on the lush forest floor, sleep evaded him like a gardevoir crossing to the other sidewalk after seeing him.
This was Jolt’s fault. He always made Zane wake up early, so Zane figured he must have ruined his ability to sleep in. Brat. He was going to clobber that rat into the dirt and punt him into the clouds next time he saw him. It seemed only fair.
He begrudgingly made his way to the colosseum, but the stage was busy with some song and dance number. Instead of waiting his turn, he politely ignored everything and stumbled upon a secret entrance. His ticket out.
An anachronistic screen, a table, the lingering feeling of soul-sucking lightning in the air, this had to be how he’d get out of here. A service attendant was even there to help him. He could tell the charizard was a service assistant based on his empty, soulless eyes.
“Yo,” he greeted with an equally sophisticated flick of his claws. “This the departure gate?”
