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TEEN: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Pathways of Aspiration [COMPLETE]

Chapter 35: The Black Horse
"You called, Sir?"

Binair gave a soft hum in response. The breeze was calm. Soothing rays of sunshine flushed between clouds over the roof of the West Faire Guild Hall, and yet Chimera could not get rid of the aching tension in his chest. To run out and prepare the troops for the inevitable march. To find some way to get through the hours to come knowing he'd done everything to preserve life and limb. To throw himself off of the nearby ledge. To do… something.

"Care to enjoy the view, old chum?" Binair asked, levitating a brass set of binoculars to his eyes from a nearby patio table. "I admit it could be a little better on a day like this, but all we can do is employ the hand we're dealt."

Taking his place at Binair's side (on top of a hollow milk crate so he could see over the railing), Chimera needed no clarification. Just a few miles away, pouring out of the dozens of ships nestling against the docks of Pith Town Harbor, were the grey outlines of hundreds upon thousands of pallids. They'd be at their doorstep within the hour. Their hue the same as the being who had supported him through high cliffs and frigid winds, yet also those responsible for the Zorua hooked up to an IV a floor or so below.

"W-what's our plan of action, Sir?" Chimera asked. "Barricades? Let them straight to the guild hall? This isn't gonna go away easy, one way or another. They've had months to plan out every step."

"I've a somewhat more… encompassing strategy that I wish to share with you," Binair replied. "Though, I sincerely wished it hadn't come to this. Before that business, however, I wish to offer an apology."

Binair turned, unable to hide the tinge of remorse leftover from the family reunion. From the distinct, perturbed tapping of his hooves, Chimera could tell his superior was not used to apologies, yet he owned them well.

"For what, Sir?"

"For my lies of omission since the past few months," Binair replied, grinding his hoof to the marble floor. "With minor exceptions, of which you've owned up to, you've served valiantly in the best interests of myself, and the guild at large ever since we played that first game of hoops. And yet, I've held knowledge of that gear at your side and more, yet played the ignorant fool."

Chimera's eyes widened, the glowing paperweight in his bag suddenly feeling heavier. Scratching his neck, Chimera looked to its ambient hue, less able to meet Binair's gaze.

"I've known you like to keep things close to the chest for a while now, Sir," Chimera said back. "Just trying to repay someone who's done more than I could ever ask for, and is by far the best boss I've ever had. Y-you… Sir… you've always seemed a bit partial towards me."

Binair bit his tongue, though neither of the Giragarig's mouths offered a denial. Chimera fiddled with his hands in response; there were a million ways to say this, what was the right one?

"The secret missions. The promotions. T-the personal office with my own secretary!" Chimera continued, forcing a smile to Binair. "I've… I've been your 'old chum' since the beginning, and yet I've never known why. N-not that I mind. Quite the opposite! It's just... "

Binair nodded; he need not finish. A sharp breeze whirled as the two stood in silence. With all the comfort of a bomb defuser, Chimera looked to the ledge. If it were not for the impending flood of pallids, or the badge that stared back at him, he was half a mind to jump off right then and there. What greeted him looking up, however, was a tepid smile from Binair.

"Well, your impeccable work ethic and leadership skills certainly helped, but I admit there's been another reason I've held you in high favor. Perhaps a quick field trip could kill two birds with one stone?"

The Girafarig turned before Chimera could offer a rebuttal. There was something mischievous in the tail that stared back at him. A bit more than usual.

"Should be a rather uplifting endeavor," Binair continued. "Please don't panic, old chum."

Chimera's maw was open mid objection as everything around the Bagon's scales started to feel… a bit different. A familiar pink aura had coalesced around his body, pushing against his movements as if he were moving in molasses. What followed was a feeling of weightlessness, as if lighter than air. The faint smile that returned to his maw was all too corroborating.

"S-sir?!"

The Bagon was a full foot off the milk crate before hearing a soft clunk. He let out another gasp, just a tad lighter than from the impromptu levitation, seeing what was the tipped over bottom of the crate flip open. Underneath was a small keypad, not unlike what he'd seen in the more secure areas of his prior life. Curiously, the keys seemed far too small for any fine motor function from Binair's hooves, but a psychic press did the job just as well.

"Y-you," Chimera stammered, chuckling a bit as he met the Girafarig's grin. "You could have just told me to move."

"And not grant my Bagon companion his ultimate aspiration?" Binair replied. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Please try and commit the code to memory, old chum; can't afford any mistakes for what's ahead."

A soft mechanical wir sounded below their feet from the final key press. With a faint rumble, the very marble beneath their feet began to move , retracting to form an empty chamber perhaps big enough to fit a snorlax in. It had a sparse carpet lining, with a panel on one side holding two buttons with arrows up and down. Chimera couldn't help but give an approving nod to no one in particular; how many other jobs had secret doors?

"Well," Chimera asked, "going down?"

They couldn't have been in the somewhat cramped elevator for over a minute, but Chimera had forgotten how long moments like these could last. A soft jingle played from a hidden speaker as Bagon and Girafarig stared ahead. One second passed, followed by another, followed by another still…

"So…" Chimera mused.

"So," came the reply.

"Ever had a problem with that tail of yours nipping people?"

One blink, then two.

"What? Oh, not usually. Had my back to a Mawile once when it got a bit too competitive. Cerise used to play a game in her early youth seeing how close she could get without it striking. I'll do my best to have my front to her now more often than my ba— ah, here we are."

The bunker seemed as peculiar from what Chimera saw as what he couldn't. From the concrete flooring, to the corrugated steel roof, to what had to be dozens of paper frappuccino cups haphazardly tossed into a corner waste bin, it seemed to combine the aspects of a doomsday shelter and disheveled personal office. The elephant in the room was a large, hexagonal structure on the far end. A sizable green tarp covered every bit, as well as towering boxes and shelves at either side. If Chimera listened closely, he could hear a faint electronic hum.

"Please don't mind the mess, old chum. Secrecy has… prevented the cleaning crew from covering for my usual dishevelment. If you wouldn't mind, I would like to show you a little something."

A wide desk not unlike what Chimera had seen in Binair's personal office was nestled against one of the walls. In place of the Girafarig's usual papers and folders were a menagerie of meters, testing tools, even what looked like a soldering iron. Beside a propped up photo of Girafarig and Zorua in the corner, levitated what Chimera could only describe as a model house.

"What's that, Sir?" Chimera asked, a modest smile soothing his worries. "A house for Durants?"

"Joltik, if you were lucky," Binair replied. "Though… not unlike the real deal. You'll find the much larger variant in a wonderfully quaint neighborhood called 'The Idyll of Faire'. Perhaps an hour's drive from here along the coast."

It was only once it was floating between them that the clay shingle roof, yellow stucco walls and palm tree decorations of the modest structure were clear to see. One of Binair's hooves nestled against the roof, a certain softness taking to the Girafarig's features as the house rotated.

"Looks like a nice little sanctuary, though… I don't think it's here because you got into scenic modeling," Chimera said.

"Correct," Binair replied. "I should take you there sometime, old chum. My former secretary settled down a year back and made chocolate chip cookies to die for when I visited. In truth, though… if everything goes to plan, it won't be more than a week before this humble abode is my home. Well, the home of a family."

Chimera's once leisurely eyes shot open at the connotation. The Bagon blinked, and blinked once more; the two bedroom, condo sized replica suddenly took up a whole new meeting. There was a certain sense of pride in Binair's stance as he smiled back at Chimera. More pride than any new factory, guild hall, or farm could put in the Girafarig.

"R-really, Sir?" Chimera asked. "I-I mean, I understand, but… I never expected this from you. Will Cerise be alright with it?"

"I can only hope. I plan to bring things up to her once she's fully recovered, and this dark business is over," Binair replied. "There's a new amphitheatre nearby I finished overseeing last week, as well as some security agencies that will pay clean coin to have an experienced thief test their business model. With any luck, the perfect place for a new beginning… a new chance to right my wrongs."

A Girafarig who owned an office bigger than the entire house, a Girafarig that Chimera could scarcely see not instructing, organizing, or otherwise working for the opulent building above their heads. True, in hindsight he should have seen this coming someday, but this soon?!

"Wait," Chimera stammered, "how are you going to oversee the—what's gonna happen if you can't oversee the guild? I-I want this as much as you, Sir, but I've been around long enough to know that it'll decline without you."

The silence lasted a little too long for Chimera's liking. And yet, there was not a single break in Binair's demeanor, not one indication that the walls around them would crumble if the Girafarig packed his bags and left the very next day. There was only a single deep breath. Binair cleared his throat, gazing down to Chimera; if they were playing poker, Chimera would guess he'd been stacking his cards for a while.

"I believe this brings us back to your original question, old chum. A quick trip down memory lane if you wouldn't mind: What exactly happened, when you first arrived in this world?"

Chimera closed his eyes, rubbing a stubby hand just barely against the start of his rocky forehead. It had felt like… ages ago, and yet, the monotony of yesterday's Chimera seemed only brief flashes in comparison.

"Well… I met Argon, of course. We got to talking, I found out I was a three foot tall lizard with blue scales. Did my first cliff jump, she agreed to let me join the guild as her team member. Met you and had that first game of—"

"Apologies, but before that," Binair said. "The very beginning."

The stubby hand moved from Chimera's forehead, while the mind underneath worked to parse the Girafarig's meaning.

"I remember mostly that I was in the water," Chimera continued. "Couldn't see a damn thing because a blinker seed got in my mouth. After getting to the surface, I-I… I think I heard a voice. Damn, what did it say?"

The hand moved to his chin. It was like paddling against the waves even trying to remember the words. The Bagon cringed, desperately trying to find a voice matching the scenery filling his black vision.

"'I apologize for the shock'," Chimera recited, "but for this whole endeavor to work, for me to ever get to see—"

All at once, it hit him. Chimera's heart skipped a beat. His hands trembled against his scales. It… it couldn't be. How could—

"—Her again, my identity must be kept a secret. I hope you understand."

Opening his eyes, Chimera couldn't tell whether they were more in disbelief than his ears. Before him stood Binair, his smirk hidden by a large speaker levitated from the desk to his maw. The synthetic voice was unmistakable.

"I will say, old chum," Binair said, speaker falling to the floor, "you certainly made true on my request to show conviction in your path. I am sorry for the water and blinker seed; I presumed our first meeting would be much more awkward otherwise."

Chimera's left eye twitched. His muscles tensed, his whole being filled with… something. Shock? Confusion? Anger? Perhaps some, though mostly drowned out by the former. The Bagon racked his mind, recalling more and more what happened on his fateful first days. With every second, his incredulous stare waned, while his hands stammered even more.

"Wait," Chimera blurted out," so… the first time we met, t-the tour guide we got off the island, even meeting Argon?! Was it all planned?"

"Argon was a fortunate happenstance," Binair replied, "though you can rest assured I would have pulled you to the shore had she not been there. The smoke and mirrors are something I regret, but in spite of everything, I hope you can understand why I chose them."

His hands clenched. How? Why?! A faint glow again took to Binair's horns, the desk cupboard behind him starting to open. Everything around Chimera seemed cast into a confusing menagerie. Binair. Himself. The very world before him. The Bagon could have taken a thunderbolt to the chest and not been fazed in the least. Around and around his mind spun, desperately trying to piece together the sounds and sights of the last few months into something correhent.

For some reason or another, Chimera could not help but think of the island that had been his home. The monolithic steamboats he spent every day overseeing that delivered their cargo to the winding railways of Faire. Even the drive from port had put him on an innovation the Bagon of prior thought he'd only see in his dreams. A world so different, yet almost unnervingly similar.

And right before him, the Girafarig who knew exactly that. Chimera shook his head; it was a shot in the dark, but could it be?

"It wasn't the acts of any god or legendies that brought me here, was it?" Chimera asked.

Ever so slightly, Binair pursed his maw. The half second of silence was all Chimera needed. The answer was there. They both knew it. All he had to do was press on.

"If not that, old chum," Binair asked, "then what was it?"

An object levitated out of the cupboard just out of Chimera's sight. The Bagon flinched, though settled seeing Binair's loose posture; he looked more like hiding a christmas present than anything malicious. Shutting his eyes, Chimera was lost in thought. His hands continued to shake, not from a lack of evidence in his theory, but an abundance. He'd been ignorant for way too long.

"It was… man."

An almost imperceivable flick sounded right before him. Right after a faint flash of light invaded his shut vision. A few seconds prior, he thought himself numb to anything new, but that chiptune music… he knew it well.

"You're correct, Mr. Droverson. By the way, the cartridge itself was a little corrupted from the water before I brought you over, but I hope you won't mind a little souvenir."

It levitated down, greeting Chimera's hands with the blue plastic sheen of a DS, looking as new as the day he'd bought it.

"I-I… I don't…"

A single question racked the Bagon's mind. It'd stuck in the back of his mind since the beginning, even after he'd thought the device before him, and everything it stood for gone and drowned. His head craned, looking back up to Binair with a face that asked before his maw had even opened.

"Who are you?"

"Me?" Binair replied. "Right now, I'm a talking giraffe with two heads that can levitate objects with his mind. In days prior, however, I'd say I wasn't unlike the human who fell into that icy lake. Neither of us have time for my life story, but a short synopsis…"

It was only then that Chimera got a good look at the large shelves to the left and right of the desk. Working his way up the jumble of books, there wasn't anything that would surprise him from Binair's persona. A worn novel on the bottom row covering economics. An equally dilapidated guide in the middle covering the inner workings of steam engines. As he squinted, however, the authors emblazoning the many spines seemed vaguely… familiar. What type of pokemon was named Edmund Cartwright?!

"I began as little more than an unassuming librarian among impoverished, metropolitan outskirts. The 'bad neighborhoods' drivers take twenty minute detours to avoid, sandwiched between gunshots and gentrification. Subsisting on canned goods and fast food at the end of each work day, I spent years upon decades having barely a dime to spare at the end of each month, but in the end, I had something far greater."

A shudder of familiarity ran down Chimera's spine. Still, going over distant memories made the prospect of monotonous cubicle walls and 70 hour work weeks seem privileged by comparison. A pang of realization hit him as Binair's horns glowed, and a textbook from the top shelf floated between them. Fine dust lurched off the cover with the psychic flick of its pages opening. From the scratched, brownish tinge of the locomotive design before them, it must have been nearly a century old.

"I-It was knowledge then, wasn't it?" Chimera asked, noting the nearly verbatim design to the car they'd driven not twenty minutes ago.

Binair's smile only grew.

"Centuries of foresight that not a single other pokemon knew when my hooves set on this wonderful region. Enough innovation to relieve centuries of trial and error in Faire's populace with a twenty year golden age."

In hindsight, the Bagon cursed himself. The thought had always nagged just how the Girafarig before him could not only know, but create a world so familiar to his own. It was no secret his boss had a fascination with humans, but this?

"W-wait," Chimera stammered, "but how did I—how did you even get here in the first place?! You'd need more than history novels and isekai magical powers to get to a world where the pixels on this screen breath and talk."

"But I did, old chum," Binair replied. "With an entire lifetime to tinker and test my theories, I'm sure even the decrepit Binair that walked on two feet could agree my wager paid dividends."

The crimson shroud covering the monolithic structure behind Binair fell. Chimera backpedaled, shirking as if staring at a giant. Lumbering brass pistons lurched from the floor to the ceiling at every corner of the hexagon. Bridging the gap between each corner were thick metallic walls, bolted in place with circular windows that seemed more at home in a submarine. Closest to himself was the ovular entrance to the conglomeration, a convex door built like a tank, with a small wheel below the window serving as the doorknob. It was only after a tap from Binair's hoof that Chimera snapped out of his trance.

"The perfect entrance to a new world, and a new body to boot. A chance to indulge in everything my prior life had denied; success, companionship, and bringing prosperity to those I held dear. Sound familiar?"

A strange feeling of intensity brewed in Chimera's chest the longer he stared at the device, compounded tenfold knowing who was at his side. True, between the lake spirits, he was no stranger to beings that had lived more than one lifetime, but… was the fountain of youth really just a few feet away? Had the path to fulfill every aspiration really been based on the half gigabyte cartridge in his hand?

"W-wait," Chimera said, "if this really is the portal that bought you from the human world, what's it doing here?"

"I can assure you, the original in our old world was destroyed decades ago as a precaution against being followed, " Binair replied. "This lovely mechanism, as well as its counterpart currently rusting just below where you had your watery entrance were the product of a somewhat more… creative plan, formed perhaps half a year ago."

Well oiled pistons huffed and puffed, bringing up brief bits of steam in their wake. The door itself lay ajar, and through the window Chimera could see a large copper coil hanging from the top. With every second, blue sparks crackled from its surface. Taking a few steps forward, the Bagon set his hand against the door, staring towards the brass, cramped insides of the mechanism; a portal to another world, and he couldn't decide whether to stare in awe, or slam his head against its surface.

"So… that's it then," Chimera said, leaning forward against the door as the pieces slowly started to come together. "I-It was you who brought me over. You who took me to a world where I have nearly everything I could ever want."

"With neither consent nor warning," Binair added, horns drooping in tandem with his ears. "I admit given the circumstances, it was a somewhat self-centered venture. After irreparably altering your life, and putting on a mask to conceal my stake in it, there is only one thing I can offer that I believe would suit a fitting apology."

Though his hand stayed clenched, Chimera could not find the heart to lash out his anger to the Girafarig behind him. Contemplation replaced furry, as a single word panged through his conscious.

Why?

The answer was right in front of him, yet a steel wall of disbelief stopped the Bagon from saying it. That same cynical tinge shouted back from its burial at the beach. It didn't make sense. It was too good to be true. It couldn't happen to him. In spite of it all, however, what he couldn't deny was that from the device that had been the key to both his entrance, and the Girafarig behind, was the one trait they both shared. The explanation was right there, with more force than a Rampardos' headbutt could hope to match.

"I-I've been training with you and the guild from almost day one," Chimera whispered. "You took me in, gave me all the opportunities leading that I could ever need. A revolution comes to our doorstep, you show me the pleasant little condo you plan on retiring to, a-and after everything, I think I've realized… you wouldn't trust leading the guild to any pokemon, would you?"

A beat of silence, while Chimera cringed waiting for a rebuke. What made him deserving of this?

"You've figured it out, old chum," Binair replied, his own elation already bursting forth. "I have no doubt of the guild's competence, but for the legacy of the largest institution of Faire to carry on past my time, I knew it would need a certain… human touch to it."

The Girafarig's words were enough to knock Chimera off his feet. He lurched forward, gasping as his forehead slammed against the steel door, slamming it closed. The faint pain of hitting the floor fell on deaf scales. It couldn't be. It was impossible. He was in an especially severe coma. Any minute now, he'd wake up in a cold sweet with a nurse telling him seventy years had passed while flying cars soared past the window.

Somehow, Chimera cackled. A strange, foreign cackle of a 404 error of the mind. Just a few months ago, he'd been less than nothing. A depressed, down on his luck wage slave grasping for a future that couldn't be. Now it was right there. Right in front of—

"ATTENTION! TRANSFER CHAMBER HAS BEEN SEALED. COILS CHARGING. TRANSFER WILL BEGIN SHORTLY."

The robotic speaker briefly shot Chimera from his delirium. More than a few swears left Binair's breath, before he let out a long sigh.

"Apologies, old chum. The device can be a bit finicky, but I hope our old world enjoys the empty air we're sending them. In any case, I think we have something to discuss."

Chimera gave a wordless nod, turning to face Binair. It was all on autopilot now. Ever more electronic crackles sounded behind him through metal walls. Binair's smile, while doubtless full of pride, held a more serious tinge than its bright-eyed beginning.

"Y-you mean—"

"Yes," Binair replied. "Every resource, coin, and faculty of the West Faire Guild shall be placed in your capable hands. It comes with only one condition, old chum. One final test that I have no doubt you'll stand tall against as you always have. Given current events, I presume you know what."

A hasty 'no I don't' stopped just short of leaving Chimera's open maw. The shock and elation that coursed through his being pounded against a sudden tinge of dread up his spine. The answer went unsaid, but not unknown to either. There was only one sole event that had dominated his attention until now.

The brown eyes staring back at Binair went wide open. For long, he'd stood as a bystander. A willfully ignorant Bagon hoping it would all sort itself out. Something in his chest sunk.

"The… the pallids? The revolution?"

"Correct," Binair replied, his own eyes sharpening. "I give this to you as my final request; stop this revolution, so the pokemon of Faire may enjoy the prosperity and stability that they always have. Do this, and the culmination of my, and thousands of other pokemon's efforts on this wondrous island shall be yours."

The die had been cast. The beginnings of a migraine shuddered though Chimera's mind as his thoughts went to war. Everything he could ever need, everything he could ever want was right before him. A legacy ripe for the taking. A future assured once thought lost among the clouds. And yet…

They were out there. Raichu and Charmander. Pokemon he'd only known for perhaps a few months, yet their voices rang as clear through his conscious as if it'd been a lifetime. Even with decent enough justification from an impaled Zorua, by reporting the revolution, he'd gone against their efforts. It was a Bagon who had lit the spark, and now it was his responsibility to stomp out the fire burning through Faire. Against burning ambition, who would get caught in its flames?

"I-I… I understand, Sir," Chimera finally stammered out. "But how are we going to? We've got probably minutes until they're at the guild's doorstep. E-Even with all the soldiers in the world, I'm not sure I can do that without a river of blood."

"A fair point, old chum," Binair replied. "But we must remember that throughout the course of history, very few revolutions stand the test of time."

It seemed that Binair's penchant for secret doors had not faded. A psychic flick of a distant switch, and the brief floorspace between Bagon and Girafarig retracted. It was only looking down that Chimera broke through his revelation to remember why they were there; in a cubby no more than a few feet across, was the familiar azure glow of a time gear. It spun seemingly of its own fruition, with a metallic axle running through its center. Two more axles jutted out in a line, as if begging for the artifacts that until now seemed of no more use than a dead battery.

"After all, I don't think you assumed I sent you through raging waves and chilling mountains all for a new hood ornament," Binair said, giving a lighthearted clomp to the gear's surface. "The research and development division has been very busy with your recent discoveries. A quick inquiry… what is your knowledge of these artifacts?"

They had their own pixel art and a theme song that jingled clear from his memory, but something told Chimera that was less relevant. The Bagon stood in silence, lost in the azure glow of the rotating gear as if it were a metronome.

"Well, from what Eoin told me when he had his lake spirit seminar, they're tools that keep the flow of time in order. Three lake spirits protect—protected them, and they're fueled by the beings of pallids that get remade every time a dungeon resets."

"All true, old chum," Binair replied. "What interests us most in this time of need is a mechanism the gods emplaced, that should save the West Faire Guild just as it saved your team on that mountain."

Recalling the cursory details was like jogging his brain on a test for material crammed the day before, but at Binair's words a memory panged all too quickly. The seething crunch before horrific pain from a Rampardos' skull. The distant numbness of being shocked back to consciousness by his companion. And, directly after that…

He'd seen that same face in more than a few dreams. The feral, malicious snarl of a Rampardos frozen just inches from the killing blow.

"I-I didn't know it at the time," Chimera said, hugging himself as a shudder coursed through his being, "but when the time gear was removed, it sucked up the souls from every pallid in the mountain. Was like time had frozen for them when we walked."

His head raised, rocky forehead smashing the metaphorical lightbulb that had appeared above. Binair's nod was all he needed. All this time, had he really thought the key to all of this no more useful than an especially large nightlight?

"But… but we saw that it only really works in the mystery dungeon the gear is from, Sir," Chimera continued. "How could we use it here?"

"What neither the lake spirits nor Eoin told you, old chum," Binair replied, "is that the time gears have a habit of amplification to them. In their former isolation, the range of the freezing effect extends no larger than their mystery dungeon's perimeter. But when two are conjoined, the pulse is increased, and at three—"

There was a resounding clang as Binair's hoof slammed next to the rotating time gear. It was only then that Chimera noticed the small analogue meter mounted beside the three axles, and the large button at its side.

"—It can be controlled."

Not a word needed to be said to show the gravity of what laid before them. Chimera clutched the bag at his side, the gears to what would freeze the fire overtaking Faire.

"Y-you mean—"

"We bring that third time gear here, old chum," Binair replied, "and every single pallid across Faire will be suspended where they stand. The revolution will end, the pallids will be returned whence they came, and the pokemon of Faire will breathe happily under the capable leadership of their newest guildmaster. I'll be sure to invite you to some beachside cookouts in the Idyll."

In the disarrayed battlefield of Chimera's mind, something shifted. His claws dug into the time gear, blinking again and again as the barrage of questions over the 'why' of the plan were routed. All that mattered now, was the execution; fortune favored the bold.

"I understand, Sir. I'm just… a bit worried is all. Cerise gave me her time gear, but we'd need years to scour all of Faire for the third. We have minutes."

"I can only put my faith in you to expedite attaining the time gear," Binair replied. "But if you could install the one my daughter gifted, finding the third should be a relatively simple affair."

Wordlessly, Chimera complied, tilting his head as he got another good view of the compartment. The gear already in place spun slow but steady, all the while the needle of the meter above jittered as if showing an engine one third's full. His own hands were no less steady taking hold of the time gear, and placing it just over the axle.

"All set, Sir. If you don't mind me saying, I'm not sure how this'll give us an X marks the spot."

"A bit more mental arithmetic is required," Binair replied, tapping his hoof against the glass meter, "but it should be no less simple. This dial will work wonders telling the exact range of the time gear's effect. As it amplifies as the gears are brought closer, and we already know two of three are conjoined like an old married couple, cross referencing the range reading we get should tell us how far the third gear is. Straightforward enough?"

The vast majority of the Bagon's work with numbers usually had far more dollar signs, but he nodded nonetheless. The pull of the axle grew ever more powerful as he inched the gear closer, tugging at his hands until nearly ripping the gear from his grip. There was a loud ting once the axle slid through, and the spokes of the artifacts both Mespirit and Azelf guarded were aligned. Blue sparks crackled from their surface, spinning the gears faster and faster. Binair watched unflinchingly, eyes glued to the needle slamming back and forth from zero to full. A stray spark cracked against Chimera's scales, sending the Bagon back.

Once the static had cleared, and Chimera was rubbing his scales muttering every curse under the sun, it was hard to tell who was more bewildered. Binair blinked, staring at the meter in one of the few moments Chimera had seen his poise falter. The meter itself had settled, only a sliver or two past the two-thirds mark.

"Sir?"

"...Curious."

Both the front and back of the Girafarig furrowed their brow, lost in thought. Biting his lip, Binair tapped the meter, as if the needle would suddenly jolt to something a bit more comforting.

"Either the artifacts are not as powerful as the best of the guild's calculations, or something has gone wrong," Binair mused. "Even if the gear was at the far end of East Faire, there should be more. Scouts have already checked any other stray islands. If it's not here, then where could it—"

It was Binair's turn for his eyes to shoot wide. Chimera shuffled back, his own mind well at work. If it wasn't anywhere he could walk on either East or West Faire, then the time gear was either at the bottom of the ocean, or…

"It's down," Binair whispered

The Girafarig's eyes trained to the floor. Chimera's tongue stumbled to object, the imagery of a familiar office fading away to an undersea cavern washing over his sight.

"One of West Faire's few underground caves, that's the only option," Binair continued, getting faster by the second. "There's only a few even known, less so suited to house a time gear. I can get to work cross referencing the distance with likely locations. It shouldn't take more than… than…"

A pause, with a look at Chimera like a player called to the field. The Bagon didn't say a word as his own scales tensed; he could hear it too. Even where they were, in an isolated bunker well under the dirt, Girafarig and Bagon could catch the vague sounds of… chanting?

Chimera froze, as if deep under his blue tinge was a being that the time gears could chill. There was only one group who numbered enough for their song to be heard even there. With a turn to the elevator, Binair glanced back.

"Well old chum, it seems you're up. There are names the pokemon of Faire will never know. Henry Ford. John D. Rockefeller. Tonight however, we make history."
 
Chapter 36: The Pallids Sing
The streets of Pith Town ran grey that day. Even as close as Eoin was, the Pallid felt his claw pinching his scales. Months of preparation, deception, and sacrifice all culminating in one cloudy afternoon. They would either walk away victors bathed in the once impossible light of liberty, or colorless stains to the pavement.

It was all or nothing now. Time waited for no one.

Again and again, pokemon of all shapes and sizes poured out of the convey of steamboats parked against Pith Town harbor. Cohesion of any size or shape was nonexistent. Above the endless sea of grey behind him, an Arcinane stepped out from a gangplank, its chest as bare as the Infernape before him. An Oddish was next, nearly shoved out from the force of the pallids behind. Even a Dugtrio (carried by a Golduck with the lack of dirt) made its way across, another trio of eyes staring back at Eoin.

The Charmander could feel his flame blazing as adrenaline wrestled with anxiety. They'd only a single hue to unite them. It was up to him to do the rest. With bated, tepid steps, he went forward, clearing his throat with his claw raised to the sky. Slowly but surely, the constant roar of their collected murmurs drew to a halt.

"Is… is everybody ready?!" Eoin shouted.

A crescendo of caws, yelps, and cheers was the response. Eoin sucked in a breath, his tail flame rustling in the breeze as he turned to face the streets. Fangs grinded while butterfree swam in his stomach; he'd been practising in the mirror for weeks, but it never came any easier.

"W-what do we march for?!"

"Rights!"

A step forward, while his maw opened just a bit easier.

"What do we march for?!"

"Freedom!"

One foot in front of the other. His eyes narrowed, stride steadfast towards the streets ahead. He couldn't stop this. Nobody could.

"What do we march for?!"

"Tomorrow!"

Any soul watching above couldn't even catch a glimpse of Pith Town's normally cobblestone amber roads. A constant monochrome mass moved through the streets, various forms blending together like a wall of combee. He'd walked these streets many times before, after all. Not even a week ago he'd sipped a red gummi smoothie at the quaint little outdoor restaurant across the way. And yet… with his tail cover and goggles in the trash, and scale paint long washed off, it seemed almost a different world.

"Pokemon of Faire," Eoin proclaimed, his voice raising in tune with his ember, "we walk through these streets today as friends, and as equals! We ask only your ears, to hear the tragedies that have gone without justice."

A thundering echo of corroboration cheered behind the Charmander.

"You have all been lied to for too long!" an Exploud yelled.

"Your guild masters swept our suffering under the rug for decades!" a Rampardos replied.

"We will be heard!" a Rattata continued, just barely audible against the rest. "And we won't back down!"

Few pallid nor pokemon could ever see a more energetic gathering, yet Eoin's pace faltered just a bit at what he saw; for all the life behind him, the streets that lay before were all but dead. Shut doors and curtained windows greeted them at left and right. For every hurrah, the march's sides seemed only more silent. Eoin blinked to the sky, catching a brief glimpse of a Pancham just before the window shutters slammed. The fear in its eyes was obvious, though… with a tinge of something else underneath. After all, even seeing the grey beings before them speak cognitive sentences was but yesterday a myth.

Rounding a wide corner, their odds fared just as well. On one claw, were the first polychrome pokemon that had stepped out of their homes. A Samurott, Mudsdale, and especially purple Slowpoke to name a few were the first to greet the march from perhaps a dozen feet away. Making up the other claw, were the brandished swords, hooves, and poisonous shell that accompanied their scowls. With a raise of his claw, the Pallid's march crept to a halt.

"Greetings," Eoin opened, putting on a gentle smile. "We apologize for interrupting your morning routine. Our purpose for being here is to inform the citizens of Faire of the grave injustices that have—"

"Leave," the Samurott responded. "I… I don't know how thousands of pallids that can speak got into Pith Town, but we're not going to let these streets or our private property become a giant mystery dungeon."

Any calls of agreeance from the pokemon beside the Samurott were instantly drowned out from their grey opposites.

"What right do you have to say that?!"

"This island is ours as much as yours!"

"Move! Or you'll be moved."

Hollers, countercries, and chants fluctuated back between the two sides like an ever increasing pinball. Eoin's scales flinched, nearly overloaded from the sheer noise between them. Again, his claw raised, only finding moderate success as the shouts on one side dulled to piercing murmurs.

"Please!" Eoin yelled. "We come with the best intentions. I offer my guarantee neither your, nor any pokemon of Faire's property has anything to fear. We want only to establish a dialogue! We… we…"

"I-I know you."

It was barely a whisper against the dozen interjections, yet Eoin's eyes shot wide. That voice, where was it?

With his gaze craning like a Venonat, Eoin saw it. Nestled behind the Samurott, tucked against a door just open enough to peek out of, stood an unassuming Oshawott. Nestled close with her flippers hugged loosely around was a motherly Empoleon, seemingly ready at the slightest provocation to tug the otter back inside.

"You're… you're that Cha—"

Eoin blinked, craning his head to try and hear the Oshawott.

"I-I remember! You were there whe—"

"We need to get to the Guild Hall!"

"They'll box us in if we stop here!"

"You're not going anywhere! I'll sooner drop dead than let the creatures I fought on the daily tread through our streets like they own the pla—"


"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!"

Eoin maw laid agape, somehow even more surprised at his shout than the pallids and pokemon surrounding. He certainly couldn't fault the results. Save for a few dissonant whispers, the populated streets of Pith Town fell silent. The Oshawott fell back into her mother's flippers as Eoin met her gaze, suddenly realizing the spotlight she had earned.

"I'm… I am sorry for that," Eoin continued, holding a pensive smile to the otter. "Please, what were you saying?"

"W-well, it's just… I just…" the Oshawott replied. "T-the library, when you had those funny goggles and that tail thingy."

The past few weeks had fallen upon him like a blur. A seemingly endless flow of tense meetings, high stakes missions, punctuated with each crawl through five hundred yards of waste. The Pallid had very few times for respite in the past months, but when he did…

Eoin blinked, the memory falling before him.

"You," Eoin stammered, claw raising to his chin, "you said your name was Emma, correct? The Oshawott last week that asked me where the aviation section was?"

A hasty nod. The Empoleon squinted, sizing up the Pallid as if trying to match an alien to a memory. A few seconds of thought had her eyes draw as wide as saucers. It… it couldn't be.

"R-right," Emma replied. "It's so cool seeing pokemon swimming through the air like flying types, isn't it? I-I remember I was just about to leave, but then I saw you had that book with the Alomomola on the title. Was it a sports book? W-what was the title again? Courts? Courting? Something like that."

That single comment made Eoin's flame swirl more than leading a revolution ever could. He looked away, not noticing the befuddled crinkle of the Samurott's muzzle.

"Wait, you like planes? What's your favorite type?"

Both Charmander and Oshawott jumped up at the third voice. Eoin glanced behind him, spotting the grey beak of a Fledgling peaking from behind his legs. Even as hidden as it was, Emma sucked in a gasp spotting the Pallid's ragged appearance. His feathers were torn every which way. Stress bars ran uniformly through each quill. Most distinct were the clean cuts on each side of the Fletchling's wing; he wasn't flying anywhere anytime soon.

"Well I," Emma stammered, fiddling with her flippers, "I-I guess the CG-4, those gliders they have flying over both islands. I-I was just about to start building a model when all these grey pokemon showed up."

The monochrome Fletchling's eyes lit up. He pecked at himself, blinking fast with a question just on the tip of his beek.

"Can… can I help?"

Pallid and pokemon alike stared between the two. It was like a pack of wolves had just burst into suburbia, with fangs no different than yesterday yet suddenly speaking like any neighbor. A soft breeze flowed between Oshawott and Fletchinder, their stares curious, yet as fragile as any leaf.

"W-well," Emma replied, turning to the Samurott, "Dad?"

The Samurott's claw clenched around his sword, nose crinkling. A blaze of inspiration shot through Eoin at his hesitation. Without a doubt, he and the pokemon behind remained no more trustworthy than any wolves to the pokemon in front. But that pause, with the Samurott's sword to the floor… it was all they needed.

"Your daughter will have that playdate, and many more with your approval," Eoin said. "We don't ask for the pokemon of Faire to immediately welcome with open arms beings they've often fought the aggression of, but is it too much to ask to share the streets for one day? We need only that to prove ourselves worthy of partnership."

The pokemon before Eoin looked about as trusting as a Zangoose against a Seviper's tail. However, the innocuous gaze of Fletchling and Oshawott kept neither him nor any pokemon across the street from releasing a blast of water or obscenities. His sizable beard drooped while he gave a tepid nod, the other pokemon likewise stepping aside. It was a long way to companionship, but no pallid was in the mood to be picky. The gleam of swords, claws, and cannons against the sun was enough to get the message across; they'd be on best behavior.

With a hearty thanks to Oshawott and Fletchling, the pallids were on the move. While the opening minutes turned to nearly a half hour, once scarcely opened windows and doors unlocked to reveal the pokemon behind. Bewilderment picked up where fear of life and limb had subsided. How did the deadly tormentors of mystery dungeons learn to sing?!

"Will our songs ring true through Faire?"

A chorus ran through the streets with every step. A bard he was not, but it would do.

"Will our chains break everywhere?"

Another corner rounded brought the final challenge ahead. In shining marble, across the vast expanse of Pith Town center, stood the monolithic West Faire Guild Hall. Even with it but a tiny view at its distance, Eoin could see the long line of barricades that stood before them. With a cough that betrayed his bated tone, the Charmander raised his voice.

"Our colors fly, abuse deny. With a guild corrupt, who will stand up?"

They certainly weren't alone anymore. Dozens, if not hundreds of pokemon were on the opposite ends of the barricade. Some stood sentry with piercing eyes, others rushed back and forth stacking sandbags, bricks, and even loose pieces of furniture to cover the gaps. More and more residents of Pith Town had left their homes to watch the unprecedented movement. Some looked with held breaths from the shops and homes of the western side, others sat on or around the newly constructed stage on the Eastern half, craning for better views of the grey wave approaching across no man's land.

"Through strife and ache, our wills remain. Will you go forth, if we are—"

A volley of piercing water jetted out towards the grey sea, crashing just a few feet before the pallids. Eoin stumbled back, a once faint voice pounding at his subconscious to turn tail and run. Vines, claws, and feathers alike helped him back up, just as he spotted the source; water types dotted the barricaded, the foremost a Carracosta with his maw still dripping. Perhaps equally surprising were the other pokemon manning the sentry stations. The Marowak, Graveler, and Palossand were expected, but the Deerling at their side looked two pallid steps away from a nervous breakdown.

"T-that's far enough!" Flora shouted, peeking her head just above the barricade.

"The Guild Hall and its perimeter are closed off, today," Helios continued. "You all can march around Pith Town till sundown for all we care, but one foot closer and you'll get more than a warning shot."

Eoin gritted his teeth, wiping the loose drops of water from his scales. His feet wavered, tail waving back and forth in thought. Open claws and maws gleamed in the barricade ahead. Could they back down? Months of planning had all relied on holding around the center of their grievances. They'd only one day to make a statement. One day to show the pokemon of Faire their will was firm. Wordlessly, Eoin glanced back, searching his kin for options. The ragged yet burning faces that stared back answered true. It was decades too late to back down now.

The Charmander raised both claws, a single foot inching forward. Flora inched back seemingly in tandem, while the cannons beside her took aim. They… they wouldn't.

"We mean no one any harm," Eoin replied, his first foot hitting the cobblestone ahead. "Our experiences have led us to believe only assembling around the Guild's center will bring required change. We will not strike first, but should the need arise…we will defend ourselves."

Inch by inch, the pallids behind matched his steps. Helios and Eoin stared at each other across the town square with chips in place. A game of chicken, deadlier than any crash if bluffs fell.

"This is your last warning! We're under orders."

"We want a life of peace and stability as much as you do!" Eoin shot back, pallids moving ever closer. "We'll stop twenty paces before the barricade. If you want us to halt, simply bring out the guildmaster and we can show the pokemon of Faire what he's been—"

Eoin couldn't get in another word before a jet of water shot against his chest. He gasped mid fall, crashing to the floor with every bit of air sucked away. It was like a Crabrawler had just punched him with a fistful of acid. Gasps and yells erupted every which way while he stared to the blurry sky. Greeting him once he'd regained some sense were the shuffling feet of pallids about to charge. Claws lit up with fire. Fangs sparked with volts. Eoin lurched up in a clumsy stupor, eyes wide with his claw to the air.

"Wait!" Eoin sputtered, in a vain attempt to quell the wave of pallids. "N-no, don't…"

"Hold your fire!"

Eoin couldn't look. His eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable war cries… that never came. That voice—Amidst the chaos, he couldn't be certain, but only one hard headed pokemon matched.

"For God's sake," Chimera shouted, "hold your fire."

Again and again Eoin blinked, Psyducks swimming in a circle around his head. What greeted him looking up was what could only be described as a blue and grey torpedo hurdling down from the top of the Guild Hall to in front of the barricade. Pokemon and Pallid alike flinched with the resounded crash of forehead against cobblestone. Dusting himself off (not exactly his best landing), Chimera shot Eoin a toothy grin. The wink that followed drew as many butterfrees as reassurance in the Pallid's chest.

"Sir?" Flora asked.

Chimera turned back to the troops, a hand lowering to his exploration bag. He felt around, as if trying to make sure a certain something hadn't broken in the crash.

"I'm… I'm sorry for being late to the party," Chimera replied. "The Presider has sent me to oversee the situation. Your orders are out of date."

Even under his mask, the furrow in Helios' brow was obvious. Eoin's just barely matched it. Charging pallids slowed to a halt, eyeing the new piece on the board.

"He," Helios said, "he made it pretty clear we're to keep them outside of the perimeter. By any means necessary. What's changed?"

Chimera's forehead drooped. He turned to the side, so both barricades and pallids were in view. A low roar of murmurs drifted from each.

"That's on a need to know basis, soldier," Chimera replied. "The important thing is that Binair will be busy for the next couple hours, and until further notice, our grey guests will have the run of Pith Town and the perimeter. No attacks of any kind unless they strike first. Is that clear?"

A jolt of pain shot through Eoin as he tried to stand. At what was before him though, it was an afterthought. Could… could it be? It was the Bagon ahead that was the reason they'd risked life and limb rushing a march months ahead of schedule. The Bagon before them that was, at best, ambiguous between distinction in the guild and his kin's liberty. Was it all an act? A double agent playing the conformist? He knew well enough the Bagon wore masks well.

The ethereal flame around Helios' bone slowly grew, waving in the wind. He looked to Chimera, then to the tidal wave of pallids ahead. Then to Chimera. Then to the pallids.

"Sir," Helios continued, voice taking its time with each word. "You know the risk we all have being knee-deep in this, don't you? It might not end well for 'mons like us if the pallids get what they want. Memories don't fade away that easy."

Flora wasn't the only pokemon who jerked up at the connotation. Sandslash grinded their claws together. Typhlosion and Magmortar felt ashes dancing in their chests. Murmurs grew to strained chatter, all focused on the ever so small Bagon between them and the pallids. Against it all, however, a fire lit in Chimera's eyes. One hand raised to the barricade, while his other drifted down to his weapon, keeping it at his side.

"That is not for us to decide," Chimera shot back. "They're here now, and the politics of it all isn't our responsibility. Our job right now is protecting the pokemon of Faire. If that means letting the mystery dungeon pokemon have a crowd throughout Pith Town, so be it."

He stepped out, in a careful march across the barricade. One by one Chimera met each guild member with a piercing gaze while his grey cape fluttered. Some stared back, others mumbled nervous or not so flattering words, but they all listened.

"Any member of the guild blasts that Charmander again, or gives those pallids any more reason to so much as throw a rock this way, they'll answer to me."

A beat of silence, with weary looks this way and that. The Bagon turned to face them all, his platinum badge glinting in the sun.

"The Presider will hear. Won't take more than a few line report once this is all over to show any loose cannons what it's like on the other side of the fence. Do I make myself clear?"

"... You," Helios said, "you can't be seriously—"

A sharp thwack cut through the air. Chimera looked back, a bolt from his crossbow soaring straight up.

"Do I make myself clear?!"

The tentative nods that followed were high contenders for the greatest sight Eoin had seen that day. The Pallid risked letting out a high pitched yip smiling to Chimera. He smiled back, of course, though… a bit less than he'd seen before. A hand raised to shield his eyes from the sun, blocking his face all the while.

"Then… what's keeping us from seeing the two-face himself?" A grey Drednaw in the crowd yelled. "The high and mighty Presider couldn't be arsed to face his demons? We're not worth his time?!"

"You'll get to see him soon!" Chimera replied, beating even the concurring salvo of questions from the pallids. "The Presider… he has family matters to deal with. There's a Zorua in this very hall that's yet to fully recover."

"He really can't step outside for two minutes?!"

"There are hundreds that have suffered much worse while he turned a blind eye!"

"He can't put this off forever!"

The Bagon's countenance softened in a silent plea to Eoin. Pallids looked ahead, expecting a chant of agreeance from the Charmander. With his own nod, however, one that not a single other pallid could fully understand, he stood still.

"Please!" Chimera implored. "These things take time. This is all I ask. A few hours, and then we can sort out this decades-long clusterfu—"

Chimera had a very hard time speaking with a slip of paper slammed against his face. It fluttered haphazardly against his forehead, until a stubby hand raised to grip the very edge. The paper stayed in Chimera's hand for a dead second, just long enough to catch a glimpse of the photographs inside. His grip loosened, letting it flutter away in the wind. Not like he needed to worry. Not like Eoin, Flora, Helios, or any other being pallid or pokemon had to worry.

On that day, the skies of Pith Town rained down with many more where that came from.

Eoin's claw raised, shielding his eyes from the sun to see the heavens dotted with every flying type under the sun. Paper rained down like snow, with a singular, large silhouette on fast approach. Steading himself to his feet, Eoin's tail burned an inferno.

"Right on time," the Charmander whispered.

---​

"Ya sure this is a good idea?!"

The wind flapping across Argon's ears turned her Mantine transport's shout into a whisper. With every foot closer to terra firma, the grey wave ahead gained more detail. She could almost make out individual faces now, from both them and the long barricade stretching from end to end. Of course where she stood, that was the least of her concerns.

"I-I… I think so. Yes," Argon replied, taking a deep breath to sooth her mind. "I've been practising a lot with my dad. Should be the easiest thing to do today."

Catalina merely shrugged, the movement of her sizable flipper wings diving them down over the crowd. Her eyes craned to the floor, until a crosshair set over the large stage between Guild Hall and pallids.

"Alrighty. Your funeral."

One flipper went up. One went down. Catalina's body craned, twirling in a roll to put even the most experienced fox to shame. Once right side up, there was no longer any Raichu at her back.

Dozens, hundreds of pokemon gasped, some covering their eyes seeing the orange, yellow, and pink blur speeding down to the stage. Most waited for the inevitable crash of the Raichu soaring to the floor. Waited. Waited. Waited…

A few dared to look, shooting back with faces of equal or greater shock. The pink aura around her manifested further, turning a formula one race to the ground into a brisk drive, then a hearty run, until—

Argon hit the stage, tucking and rolling with gritted teeth. She'd… certainly be feeling her knee in the morning, but landings prior had been worse. Once his rapid blinks had slowed, and his shock with it, Chimera couldn't help but chuckle; it was a better entrance than his.

It was only after dusting herself off that Argon got a full glimpse of her audience. Thousands of grey pupils stared up to her with renewed vigor, while thousands more of their tinged counterparts held a mix of shock and incredulity. For better or worse it had worked. All eyes were on her.

"A-Argon?!" Flora stammered. "How are you… why are you…"

A pit formed in the Deerling's throat, seeing they weren't the only ones that had noticed the paper rain scattering the floor. Nearby the stage a Buizel stood in the surrounding crowd, picking up one of the pamphlets.

The first thing that greeted her was a black and white photo, showing an equally monochrome Blitzle, hauling a plow behind through the dirt with barbed wire fences in the background. A flip, and there was an Ivysaur, its back left foot cut clean off in some long past accident. The Buizel looked over, spotting a decidedly more colorful Ivysaur in a thousand yard stare, seemingly about to gag at the sight. She couldn't blame them.

One more showed a dozen pallids sleeping in what could only be described as a shelf. A single glance up with wide, frozen eyes revealed the Eevee, Tyrogue, and Charmander in the photo being the very ones before them.

Hundreds of pokemon at the Buizel's left, right, back, and front followed the trend. The photos, they just kept coming.

"What… what is the meaning of this?!" the Buizel asked, glaring back up at Argon.

Electrons crackled down Argon's cheeks through her body, from tail to floor. She took a deep breath, paws clenched.

"Y-you've… "

She'd had weeks upon months to plan this very moment. Every word had been said ten times over in her head. An until now silent debate that she had to win. Yet it never came any easier. The Pichu of prior years, the Raichu of prior months would have sooner frozen to death than face the eyes and responsibility ahead. Yet here she was.

"You've all been deceived," Argon said, her stance firming as a crackle of light sparked from her tail. "We've all been deceived! The pallids we all thought only a ceaseless aggression… they deserve so much more, but hidden in the depths of East Faire, all we've given them is pain and compulsion."

A murmur of debate drifted across the crowd, suddenly hearing the news from a form far harder to dismiss. Could it be true? Who's to say the photos weren't faked? Even if it was, what responsibility did they have in the politics of it all? Whether in shock, horror, or morbid curiosity, most stayed, though at very edges the crowd started to disperse. A current of stress began to build. One by one families walked back to their houses, faces just a tad drooped. This wasn't worth the stress nor the confusion.

"Wait!" Argon called. "I… I know what it's like to be where you're standing. None of us blame you for it. From one pokemon to another, all I ask is that you take a good long look at what's happened today. Please, ask yourself, why did this happen?"

It certainly wasn't hard to meet her request. The evidence was right before their eyes, in flesh and ink. Wary faces looked up to the Raichu, more curious of her story than she'd imagined any pokemon would ever be. Families halted, turning back just a tad to the sudden orator.

"Thank you," Argon continued, sucking in a breath. "Thank you so much. I let this happen just as much as any other pokemon. It's so… reassuring to pull back and focus on you and your own. If this had happened a year earlier, and another pokemon was on this stage, I'd probably be in my apartment sipping tea."

It was hard to tell whether any lingering guilt over the crowd had gone up or down. It ebbed and flowed, all the while the Raichu on stage hoped and prayed her voice was loud enough to reach the back. For years shouting had always seemed a foreign concept, but tomorrow would not forgive a tepid tongue.

"But," Argon said, "b-but there came a point where I couldn't avoid it any longer. It was months ago the day I saw cruelty too great to ignore. For Faire, that day is today. This day affects all of us, one way or another. It will next week. Next month. Next year. I—"

A faint tick of the mind locked her tongue. Dozens of pokemon blinked, seeing the Raichu mumble something under her breath.

"Why now?!" her thoughts pinged back. "Don't panic. Don't… panic. Deep breaths. Deep... breaths.

"I-I came to Faire," Argon continued, a paw hitting her chest while a new vigor ran through her. "I came to Faire because I was told it was a place where anyone who puts in the effort can have a comforting life. That tree hasn't rotted yet, but it's up to us to make it bear fruit."

Her eyes nearly closed, bracing for a deadly silence. What she found however was a single tentative nod from the Buizel below, slowly growing to a dozen more while hushed whispers grew.

"I mean, it couldn't hurt, could it?"

"Would be pretty friggin weird seeing the grey 'mons I fought years ago walking the streets. Unthinkable almost."

"It'd be like a refugee crisis trying to integrate them across Faire."

"Won't ever be perfect. Nothing is, but it's a heck of a lot better than inciting chaos through the streets."

"I… I never questioned it before, but if the the same beings that we eat can talk like any other pokemon, what else have they been hiding from us?"

"Can't exactly send'em all back after today… can we?"

Across the way, Argon's ears perked up, catching a glimpse of a certain Charmander. He'd seen better days (a little bed rest afterwards couldn't hurt for the both of them), but something about that wide-eyed smile always had a way of helping her from the brink. She cleared her throat, beaming back with nothing to hide.

"Not everything will change overnight," Argon replied. "It'll be a long, cold process even with everyone's help, but… that's a small price for everything we'll gain. Each and every one of us will make history today. I'm sure of it."

"Argon?"

She turned, more than a little taken aback by the Bagon walking onto stage. He held a smile, no doubt, though... every step seemed a bit perturbed, as if he were walking up to the gallows.

"It's," Chimera continued, "it's good to see you. You all put on a hell of a show. I know a song and dance academy that could give Eoin's chops some good lessons. Could make a pleasant evening for you two."

Argon suppressed a chuckle, walking up to meet the Bagon. A long silence held between the two, the chatter of the crowd fading away. There'd been a pit forming in her stomach ever since he'd burst into that shed, knowing they'd end up on opposite sides of the barricade. Yet… were they?

"It's good to see you too," Argon replied, just a tinge of solemn to her voice. "I'm honestly surprised it went as well as it did. It looked bleak at times for all of us, but I don't think Faire will ever look the same after today."

"R-right," Chimera whispered, his gaze craned to the floor. "And… Argon—"

The Bagon nearly bit his tongue, hiding his shaking hands just a second too late from Argon. She tilted her head. It was only natural to be nervous today, but there was something in her partner's tell Argon couldn't put her paw on. Brown irises met blue as Chimera looked up. There was a tension in them, like a rat trapped in a maze, looking everywhere for the way out.

"I-I… I wish you the best for the future," Chimera finally got out. "You're up here, fighting for what you believe in. Come what may, that's all any of us can ever do..."

Argon couldn't get in another word before her partner did an about-face, heading off the stage.

"Chimera?"

No response. The Bagon's hands clenched each other behind his back. A long line of shade fell upon the stage as a cloud drifted by, only making clearer his trepidation. With a few second's pause, Argon took her own step forward.

Something was different about the Bagon she'd first found upon Faire's waves, but what?
 
Chapter 37: A Tea Party Prelude
What she was doing was just a precaution, of course. It had to be. There very well could have been a river of blood through Pith Town if it weren't for a certain Bagon's actions. Had it all been an act since he'd burst into the shed? The necessary sacrifice of a double agent to protect their march? Every bit of her being was quick to shout yes, but the voice remained. This… a discrete check on her partner couldn't hurt.

A familiar tension ran through Argon's body stepping off from Catalina's wing. Paws and feet hit ceramic shingles, saving her from a twenty foot plummet to the streets below. It was just on the outskirts of the town square, more than secluded enough to not bat an eye from the grey sea or barricades in the distance.

Argon was quiet as a mouse making her way across the adjacent rooftops. With every step, crawl, or jump she got closer, until the walls of the Guild Hall towered just a single street away. It was easy enough to look down behind the barricades, where not a pokemon nor pallid outside could see. Shifts of guild members moved to and from the front lines, where the faint chatter of doubts clashed with dogged determination. Tense as ever, yet business as usual. Except…

Bingo. There he was. A lone blue silhouette behind the Guild Hall, nearly blending into an innocuous little corner of the defenses. Even from here she could tell his hands were still shaking. Argon's own breaths chittered getting up.

"P-please," Argon whispered. "Prove me wrong. We're in this together."

Before long Argon was crouched down behind another slanted rooftop, barely more noticeable than the clouds to any pokemon below, yet just close enough to hear behind the walls. Chimera was clear as day now, his foot tapping like it was the end of the world. He leaned against the guild wall, clenching his cape just a few feet away from an emergency exit that had seen better days. Could he really be—

Argon's ears perked up, nearly jumping out of her fur while the rusted door peered open. Chimera was no less startled, dashing back to give a salute. There he was.

"It's good to see you, old chum. I… I don't… today could have certainly gone better, but I believe we have everything in place."

From the Girafarig's appearance, that was the understatement of the century. He stood up straight, of course, yet there was a certain shallowness in Binair's eyes. His breaths were quick, horns glowing faintly as if perpetually stuck in check.

"I apologize, Sir," Chimera replied, "It's just with how things went today I didn't see any other option that would—"

A hoof raised.

"You did everything right," Binair replied. "No one can take back what's happened, and it'll take much time and effort to bring even some sense of normalcy back to Faire. In spite of everything, however… with what's developed, I'm confident that this revolution will conclude with no bloodshed to either side. I trust we both know what must happen next?"

Chimera's silence spoke volumes. Binair's tail shifted left and right with every second, on constant watch to what lay beyond the barricades. The Girafarig's wording could go either way, yet Argon could feel her tail crackle in anticipation.

"I… I don't envy your position," Binair continued, setting a hoof to the Bagon's shoulder. "Your conflicts of interest are warranted, old chum, but I will not mince words when I say this is our most pressing hour. Thousands of pokemon, both inside and out of this guild are relying on us to ensure their safe and prosperous future. We get through today, and a lifetime of competent leadership under the West Faire Guild's newest presider will follow."

Argon's paws scraped against the shingles. Things had gone from bad to worse. Some hidden part of the Raichu had expected her old boss would have some ace up his sleeve to stop reform, but that ending note… he couldn't possibly be talking about—

Nothing Argon did could stop her gasp. The answer was right in front of her. Binair's tail darted up from the faint noise, just barely missing a silhouette duck behind the roof. It was just enough to snap the Bagon from his mulling. He stood still, as if trying to weather the storm of two voices shouting into each of his eardrums.

"I-I understand, Sir," Chimera replied, "I really do, I-I just don't—there's this damn sinking feeling in my stomach that I can't get rid of. I know what I have to do, but I'm not sure I'll be able to live with it."

The hoof set off his shoulder, before holding itself before Chimera. It was a strange gesture, yet one strangely familiar to the Raichu. From the way Chimera stared at the hoof, while his own hands seemed locked neither forward nor back, he seemed to agree.

"I know that feeling all too well, old chum," Binair said. "This path is yours to choose and yours alone. The responsibilities of leadership are never easy, but whichever way you step, I've always held you'll be the one to leave their mark on the world. With all the time we have known each other, I have only one question."

A second passed, while one wary pokemon looked to another. If it weren't for the shock of dread coursing through her fur, Argon would have almost found it touching.

"From one human to another, do I have your confidence that our offer stands?"

Please don't. By Arceus don't. There's a better way.

Binair's eyes widened as Chimera's hand reached forth, only to stop not an inch from his hoof. He turned back, half tempted to smash his forehead against the marble.

"I'll do my best," Chimera replied. "That's all I can offer. Please, just… do you have a map?"

Girafarig and Raichu alike held their breath. Binair's horns glowed a dull pink, as a hastily drawn piece of parchment levitated forth.

"That is all I ask, old chum. I've finished cross referencing our findings with expected caverns under West Faire. There's only one that should fit the description of Mespirit's Lake. A few hours' journey, and once you're back we can bring these trials and tribulations to a close. Until then, I shall maintain that Cerise is in good health."

All Chimera could offer back was a simple nod before he stepped off, map in hand. His walk soon turned into a run, purely on instinct. He could do little else, with only inner voices to stop and think through an unending march.

Argon was split between melancholy and uttering a barrage of curses at herself getting up. She should have seen this coming sooner. She should have done something sooner, but there they were. A human with only vaulting ambition to prick the spurs of his intent, a pokemon who'd been too content to stop him. She set her eyes on the Bagon's back, keeping a safe distance for now. There would only be one chance to find out what this ace in the hole was. One chance to stop him.

One chance to see how human her partner truly was.

---​

"Just what the hell am I doing?"

No matter what Chimera did, he couldn't stop that damn question from pinging through his head. Time blended together into a menagerie of arguments, interjections, and migraines with every step down. He'd been spelunking for… how long now? His legs were numb from duckwalking since the past three stalactite clusters, that was for sure. The underground river that soaked cape and foot alike a silty brown couldn't have been earlier than the two hour mark. A thin gash sliced across his knee, a reminder of the rappel that had been just a bit too reckless, but he pushed on.

"Time waits for no man," Chimera repeated, smashing his forehead into the wall of sediment covering a dead end. "Certainly doesn't wait for a friggin Bagon."

This was wrong. By every contemporary standpoint this was wrong. He'd picked up a textbook, he knew what side of history he was on. Thousands of beings, as well as the closest thing he had to friends in this strange new world were crying for change, and where was he? Crawling like a rat through a tunnel, scrambling for the only thing that could stop it. What a joke.

The fates seemed to be in similar good humor. With eyes glazed over, and thoughts of a similar fog, Chimera made it another few steps before tripping on a small stalagmite just under the river line. Cold mullings met colder water. The lantern he'd held, whose faint amber glow reflected against shining rocks and minerals fell to pitch black. His labored breaths soon turned panicked.

A quick, morbid chuckle left Chimera's maw. Here he was, a so-called adventurer stuck in a seemingly endless cavern with nobody but a Giratina on his shoulder to occupy. Exhausted. Very little food and a bit of seeds. At least he still had the thermos. No source of li—

Wait. Except…

And to think, just a few short months ago he'd thrown his salvation into the depths. A stubby, numb hand reached into his bag, retrieving a once forgotten piece of plastic. One flick later, and two shining screens lit the way. His steps weren't exactly lighter, but he was back on track.

It could have been a couple hours, or a couple minutes before Chimera noticed. It'd been a long time since he'd glanced at two screens, after all, whilst squeezing between two jagged outcrops of stone. While the calendar and settings stared back at him, however, it dawned on the Bagon the innocuous black circle in between the two screens. It took a second of thought to even remember what it was; a brass lens with a wooden box large enough to be a table was far more common in this new world.

"Never really should have sprung for the DSi," Chimera mumbled, "but, if that's there…"

A bit of the Bagon didn't want to look, but buried thoughts and curiosity got the better of him. It'd be weird to say the least, after waking up every day to see a creature looking back in the mirror that couldn't even reach the upper cupboard, though the novelty was undeniable.

A few clicks (a bit more than necessary with big, meaty claws), and he was there. Chimera's hands clenched, walking forward even with his eyes glued to the screen.

Brown eyes met each other. A face tucked into the past, brought back in glorious 256 by 192 resolution. In the faint light of the screen, Chimera could see his Bagon reflection faintly above his human visage. It certainly wasn't his most flattering look.

"And there he is," Chimera said, letting out a slow chuckle, "the two-bit, down on his luck human that couldn't keep a stable job to save his life. Literally."

The thin plastic creaked against Chimera's clenched hands. The Bagon could hear his breaths seethe with every memory that came flushing back. Even that dense, human face made him want to look away.

He really could have made it. At least, if he'd tried a little harder. Sure, he'd had ten times the memories sitting at a desk chair than any couch, but a little bit more effort… an approach just a bit more studied, and he could have gone down in his prior world as something more than a wage slave. Something more than nothing.

And now… where was he? That was simple enough. He was a two-foot tall creature from a video game walking down a precipice. A Bagon with wealth, renown, and hundreds upon thousands of others under his responsibility. A pokemon one day more from… from...

For no particular reason, Chimera smashed a nearby rock to bits. There was the rub. He stood alone, with an offer before him he knew damn well he would have killed for yesteryear. Just one day more, and he could become more than that human ever would. Someone that would not be forgotten. Someone that wouldn't have to beg and labor to push the boulder up one more day.

Something in Chimera's glare hardened staring at his past. This was his second chance. Could… could he live with himself not to take it?

He almost didn't notice when a faint, yet ever so familiar blue light shined around the corner. Fear, excitement and adrenaline all coalesced. It was like reaching the top of a rollercoaster. Only one way to go from here.

The lake spirits were certainly minimalist decorators. Cyan light poured up from the seemingly endless chamber, lighting up every corner of the high, jagged ceiling like stars on a clear sky. Where was Mespirit? Probably off playing Dungeons and Dragons with her siblings, if what Eoin said was true.

Only experience stopped Chimera from falling flat on his ass when his foot met the ice. After a fumbled recovery Chimera dropped to his knees, looking upon the vast, frozen lake that covered every inch of the cave's floor. Instinctively the Bagon bundled his cape around him, the only protection he had against air somehow even more chilling. Every breath brought another cloud of fog. It was more than nervousness that made him quake.

"T-t-that's one step down at least."

Next was the more pressing. Where exactly was it? It had always been clearer in prior caverns. Obviously the gear was this cavern's makeshift night light, but where exactly was the light—there!

Now for the easy part. He sped off across the ice, to where underwater light refracted off the lake in a familiar pattern. Brownish grey stalagmites in the distance grew easier to see with every step. They jutted upward to the ceiling, like skyscrapers against a distant plain. Somewhere in Chimera's mind, he chuckled; no harm in a little irony.

There it was. Murky below its few inches of glacial covering, but there nonetheless. Frost covered Chimera's claws wiping for a clearer view. His entire future, laid out before him.

The faint reflection of Chimera against the ice was smashed to bits with the first hit. Thundering crunches reverberated through the ceilings, as a forehead shaped dimple cut further and further. A final crack punctuated the break. Emerald light poured up through the water, from a time gear just a grasp away from even a Bagon's stubby hands. A chilling shock coursed through him feeling it's sleek, metallic surface.

He had it. The gear that would put the nail in that human's coffin. All that was left was…

"Why?"

A call rang out. Every bit of Chimera's blood ran cold. H-how did… no, she couldn't be—

It took much of the Bagon's willpower to even turn around. It wasn't a mirage. At the entrance, perhaps a couple dozen feet away, stood Argon. Her fur was sullied with silt, paws raw from crawling through rock and river. She hid the cold well, but the jitters of her maw gave her away. There was a weariness in Argon's face he hadn't seen since the mountain. Raichu and Bagon, stares unbroken in a silent realization of where the other stood.

"H-how—so that was… how much did you hear?" Chimera asked.

Argon sucked in a breath, nose crinkling. She stepped on her tail, in an uneven levitation across the ice. From where she was, the Raichu looked pretty tall.

"I heard enough," Argon replied. "Please, I have to know… why are you doing this? Is Binair's position really worth all the suffering? We both know the pallids deserve so much more."

The Bagon's teeth grinded together. Here he was, red handed. No more playing the impartial, the unaligned. There was only one path he could take.

"I'm," Chimera whispered, voice slowly raising, "I'm… I'm doing this because I don't know if I can risk going back. You know who I was when we met on the beach. Every single day of my goddamn life I'd wasted beating my head against a wall. The unnamed, unknown accountant that risked not making rent if I took a shit at the wrong office hours."

It… it wasn't like it'd be doom and gloom if he did get the position, right? He could wait a few years till Binair got complacent once the revolution ended, sign a few bills that'd shut the farms down. Have their cake and eat it too. Would Binair allow it from his retirement? Would all the pallids mind—

Argon's azure eyes, and his own memories told the truth. Who was he kidding? There were only two ways this could end. His partner stood silent, waiting for him to finish.

"I-I think back to all that," Chimera continued, "and here I am now. With the opportunity right in front of me. I know I shouldn't, i-it's just… there's this damn voice in my head saying that if I get this position, I can die a happy man."

Ever so faintly, Argon's ears drooped. She hopped off her tail, not a foot from her partner. Under the rebuttal forming in her mind, a small part of the Raichu appreciated the irony; even from the beginning, their heavens had been each other's hell.

"I'm sorry, Chimera," Argon replied, "but there's more at stake, more that matters here than just you or me. You were the one that helped me get out of my rut and have some ambition in life, but… there's a limit. What means everything to us isn't any more important than every single pallid above. We have a responsibility to them."

"I-I know," Chimera stammered back, just a bit too fast. "I really do, but I'm not… I can't… god fucking dammit."

He reeled back, kicking a chunk of stray ice across the lake. The Bagon had nowhere near the clear head to stop his trip this time. It was only Argon's fast mind that kept his rump from hitting the lake. Something deep in her chest sunk seeing her partner sitting on the ice, head down as if contemplating whether to give it another headbutt. She never could approve, not with the fate of all of Faire on the line, but… she could understand.

"You know," Chimera said, letting out a slow, numb chuckle. "I really did have visions of grandeur when you fished me onto Faire, when I saw what had been built. Guess I was stuck on the high of thinking this would be a utopia. The perfect world for the human and partner to make legends of themselves, with a world to save rated E for everyone. N-now… now I'm just tired. Some things never change."

"Arceus knows I am too," Argon replied. "But it's not too late."

He looked up, blinking once more at the empty air where a Raichu once stood. She wasn't there, of course. She'd taken a seat, right on the ice next to him. Something behind Chimera's silent stare chuckled; he should have expected nothing less. It felt… nice, to have her at his side. A bit fleeting, sure, but no less warm.

"I-I know you," Argon said. "Just like you know me. You're a good pokemon at heart. No one can take that away. It's not too late, Chimera. To have those adventures. You and me. Nothing is ever perfect, but… the revolution could use a guild member to help them through this. N-not to mention that toothy grin of yours."

Silently, Chimera cursed. That damned smile of hers was making this way harder than it already was. Where was a Rampardos to knock you unconscious when you needed one?

Not a word needed to be said between human and partner for what both knew. The choice was his. Argon looked ahead, paws tucked in against the ever present frost while Chimera turned away to collect what was left of his thoughts.

There was no sky for the Bagon to gaze upon. Only a dark and jagged ceiling greeted, where faint blue lights shined. He couldn't help but let out a dull huff at the sight. Every old ambition gleaned up ahead, always out of reach for his stubby grasp, but its source…

A claw rubbed against its cold, metallic surface. Its source couldn't be closer. A gear within one arm's reach, and a friend in another. Chimera sat deadened through his task, yet even in the cold, his hands stopped shaking. What other choice did he have?

"You know what?" Chimera said, looking to Argon. "Lets… lets just put this all on hold for a bit. The revolution. Tomorrow. I-I've been a real shit dragging you down into a freezing cave, a-and if you're up for it, I've got something to try and make it up a little."

Argon's ears perked up, in equal parts shock, relief, and suspicious at the hospitality. She gave a chittering breath, eyeing the steaming thermos her partner had produced. It… it was a bit nippy. Arceus knew they both had more important things, but what were a few hours, a few minutes to just be friends? The day was still young to see how much of that human was left.

A tiny voice in the Raichu's mind knew all it would take was a paw to his foot and a quick shock to leave her partner paralyzed and out of the game, but a hasty rebuttal squashed that thought. The lines hadn't been drawn yet, and the look of remorse in her partner's eyes couldn't be more genuine.

Argon's nose crinkled at the smell. A strange wave of nostalgia washed through her. She knew that drink anywhere.

"Grepa berry tea?" Argon asked, letting out a faint giggle. "There was a day you hated it."

"A mon with particularly uneducated taste buds once said it tasted like shit," Chimera replied, his signature grin back in full force. "A wiser Bagon now knows it pairs delightfully with a stack of reports to file. Wouldn't have ever learned if it wasn't for you. It means a lot."

Chimera had her cup poured almost a bit too quick. Raichu and Bagon smiled, the drink levitated from claw to paw.

Somehow, against a cavern big enough to house even the most fastidious Groudon, Argon couldn't help but feel cramped plaster walls surrounding. It felt like a lifetime ago when she'd crawled out of that rickety bunk bed, with two mugs and an unsure future between them.

"Y-you know," Argon whispered, "the last thing dad told me before I left was to make my own fate. Not sure what that quiet Pikachu would have done if she knew I'd end up here. Run back and hug him? Shock him?"

"Both?"

A beat, while Argon surprised herself with a chuckle.

"Y-yeah, both. Come on, let's have that drink. Gotta warm up before we go delirious again."

Chimera raised his thermos, fighting to hold his smile. He looked down to ice, unable to avoid his partner's reflection in the cracks. His tongue held, as if unwilling to let the moment pass.

"A little toast then," Chimera said, "for the human and pokemon that met on the beach. To finding lake spirits and thieves. To watching a Charmander go from feral to leader and boyfriend. To getting our asses handed to us by a raging Rampardos. To getting caught up in a revolution to change Faire forever. To… to…"

A moment of silence, as days gone by washed over Bagon and Raichu. This hour would pass, and they might never share a drink like this again, but one thought was shared.

"To memories."

The glasses clinked. Paw and claw raised, gulping down every drop of warmth from their cups. Argon was almost sad eyeing the bottom of her mug. She licked her lips, soaking in the residual flavor. Smooth and tangy, with that same tinge of zest she knew every morning. Except—

Argon's eyes widened just a tad, tongue circling. That aftertaste… it was ever so faintly different than usual. A bit bitter. A flavor that had no business in a cup of tea. One second passed, then another before it clicked. Argon's fur bristled with shock as her gaze shot to Chimera. That look. He couldn't…

"I-I… I'm sorry, Argon," Chimera said, "but I think we both know what happens next."

Her paw shot out to him, falling halfway with a single jitter, then another. Soon her whole arm was trembling, her legs likewise limping to a useless shudder. She slumped over, helpless to resist a collapse to the icy floor. She tried, Arceus knew she tried, but even Argon knew it was a wasted effort, with every limb asleep at once. That… that two faced, piece of—

"Sean's not the only one proud you've made your own fate," Chimera said, a numb look in his eyes as he stood up. "Now it's time to make mine and mine alone. It's a shame it's come to this. You've been a better partner, a better friend than I deserve."

He turned back, unable to meet the most potent mix of shock and seething anger Argon had ever held. Her tongue chattered, held still as Chimera made his way to the exit. At the last step she saw, he looked back. For how he looked, you'd think the bastard had just pulled the trigger.

"That stun seed should wear off in a few minutes," Chimera said. "With any luck, all the head start I'll need. I'll make sure you and Eoin get out of this alright, Argon. Even if this is goodbye. Have a good life, and… "

One step, and he was gone.

"Thanks for the memories."
 
Chapter 38: The Chimeric End
She'd really been blind this whole time, hadn't she? That was the only explanation. Anything else and the revolution would be safe and sound, with a certain Bagon lying paralyzed on the icy floor and not herself.

It would have been easy. Really. Just… a quick zap, a melodramatic one liner about this being for his own good, and her former boss would have no choice but to step down. It was the sentiment, wasn't it? It blinded. Delayed. Made a confrontation at the revolution's most decisive moment that should have been in an apartment.

Now all she could do was think.

She had plenty of time, of course. Perhaps knowing he faced a slightly less stubby-legged opposition, the Bagon's estimates for the stun seed were conservative. Again and again Argon's muscles clenched, desperately trying to fight through the worst case of sleep paralysis. Her very fur gave a revolting jolt at even lifting a paw. A stiff grunt was all her tongue could make, followed by a lazy roll to her side. With a mind so muddled, even lifting up that mug felt like a herculean effort.

Seconds turned to minutes, stewing up electricity and tension alike that had no ground. Had the Bagon who'd dragged her up from a chilly death always been like this? A selfish, two-faced reptile who wouldn't sacrifice a comfy desk chair to let his grey scaled counterpart have a piece of that pie?

His ambitions blinded him. It has since the beginning. Chimera's on the wrong side of this, but… a pokemon still deserves a chance to change. Eoin's proved that well enough.

A part of Argon scoffed at even the thought, the rest gave a quiet whimper. He had his chance, he had every chance, but there was no more luxury to give the benefit of the doubt. Arceus knew what would befall thousands of innocents if she did.

Her ears shot up, a thought panging. That cocksure smile of his, so reassuring behind its humor… they truly were enemies now, weren't they?

It took you long enough. No more talk. No more compromise. Find out what that despot with a bowtie is planning. Chase that Bagon across every corner of Faire if you have to. And if push comes to shove, if he doesn't give you another choice-

A jolt shot out from her tail, whipping across the lake. Now wasn't the time to think about that. Not now, not ever. She was better than that. If he really was following a path of destruction, then she wouldn't be the one to do it.

With another minute passed, and her thoughts as chilled as the lake underneath, it took the Raichu a moment to realize a more… physical chill that joined it.

One paw shook, feeling the lake's touch replace that encompassing numb tingle. Another soon followed. With a great deal of effort, Argon lurched to her feet, paws wobbling as if they'd just run a marathon. Blue eyes shot to the cavernous exit. Paws tapped, ever so slowly breaking out of their trance. It'd been… what, ten minutes? Fifteen? He was probably all the way to the first precipice by now. No time left.

Argon's leg buckled like a Slakoth's with the first step, but the Raichu held too much adrenaline to stop. Sparks crackled off her cheeks as she gave chase. Her one chance had failed, and all that was left was to pick up the pieces.

The pieces left by a partner who had ended up too human.

Not even Argon knew for sure what pushed her back up that cavern every hour. Was it the drive to save her partner from himself that lifted her up when a steep, rocky incline turned to sheer cliff? Maybe the thousands of grey eyes staring over her shoulder led her to press on after a loose rock sent her tumbling back into yet another icy puddle. Or perhaps it was a singular anger that drove her path, so burning righteousness countered burning lungs.

With respite for neither body nor mind, Argon needed to blink more than once when the faint amber glow of sunset finally dawned. A stumble nearly sent the Raichu to her knees, but she pressed on, eyeing the towering walls of marble in the distance, above Pith Town's orange shingles. Whatever last ditch plan Chimera was following, it ended at the Guild Hall.

By the time Argon had made her way to the edges of the square, a bright moon filled the ghostly streets of Pith Town. Even so, omnipresent chatter filled the streets. Between labored breaths, the Raichu smiled. The Pallids had made industrious use of their time. Some conversed with the occasional pokemon still outside, hearing gasps and apologies at their stories. Others grumbled, waiting for a presider that would never come.

"It's," Argon murmured, gasping, "it's all over now. Binair just doesn't know it."

Were it not for the urgency Argon would have been pulled away at every corner. A few steps forward, and an Oshawott tugged at her arm, asking if she wanted to see the newest plane her new friends had helped build. The Oshawott's parents stood a few feet away, tense yet… accepting of the grayscale beings that mixed into the color.

A look to the barricades, and the guild members seemed of similar demeanor. A few still watched with guarded eyes, against a sea of tepid contentment that had washed through their ranks. Even Flora seemed to breath an easy breath as the hours had passed. There was no destruction to prevent, no guillotines to fear.

A new age dawning, and where was Binair? Argon almost chuckled; his absence spoke volumes. Probably watching pale from some hidden window, speechless to his ivory castle falling apart.

Wait

Moonlight shined all too clear against marble. Argon's paw clenched, gaze unwavering to the one above that met it. There he was. A Bagon frozen to stoicism at his partner's sight, looking down from the Guild Hall's roof with his hand against what Argon could only assume was a trapdoor.

Chatter, footsteps, and breaths faded into silence. The two were a good hundred feet away, yet their faces couldn't seem closer. As if by mutual agreement, Raichu and Bagon paused, with no more will to deny the obvious.

This was the end.

Argon bolted, retracing her steps up to the roofs, while Chimera's hands stumbled in a desperate attempt to remember the password. She was on all fours on the rooftop, a rat out of hell that could see the brown in Chimera's eyes by the time he'd jumped into the bunker elevator.

A good dozen feet risking a very painful fall was between one rooftop and another, but a Raichu of experience was undeterred. A running start, and psychic press off her feet that would make a Ninetales applaud, and Argon's paws hit the marble ledge. All that was left was the trapdoor, now just a narrow, seemingly endless hole where the elevator had been. Bracing paws and legs against each corner, Argon sucked in a quivering breath. He'd always been the better with heights, but if Arceus was willing the Bagon's head start would not be enough.

By the time she'd slid down, Chimera's breaths were equally gasping. He was on his knees, maybe a dozen feet from the elevator entrance with that oh-so-important time gear in his hand, and his gaze craned to the concrete floor. Argon sucked in a gasp at the sight of the two other spinning gears in their endless grind. So that's where-didn't matter. Only one thing left to do.

Chimera's eyes glinted in a sharp stare like nothing before. His very world seemed before him preparing to set the final time gear in place. Just one little press, and this whole nightmare would all be over.

Except… it didn't move. A push towards the empty slot had the time gear push back, then pull itself forward. Almost as if—

It was Chimera's turn to gasp. By the time he saw the pink aura surrounding, it'd already rocketed from his grasp. The Bagon's head jumped up in a desperate track of the gear's path, ending with a sharp thud at a Raichu's paw. There she was.

Chimera's hand was a blur, drawing his crossbow like a western gunslinger to Argon. Sparks crackled from the Raichu's cheeks, defiant to the glint of the bolt against the overhead light. There was no more tea to drink today.

"Don't make me do this," Chimera said, crossbow jittering with every word. "P-Please, don't make me do this."

"You've made your choice!" Argon replied. "And… and I've made mine. I'm not taking any more chances."

Bagon and Raichu stood, fur and scales tensing while each dared the other to break the impasse. Argon certainly couldn't think of a stranger place for a final confrontation. Desks, shelves, and haphazard papers scattered the walls, while on each corner of the small room stood a narrow support pillar. At the chipped and worn state of the concrete, it was anyone's guess how long the guild had kept this close to the chest.

Perhaps most perplexing was the strange contraption behind Chimera. Massive pistons pulsed, heavy steel creaked, and faint sparks crackled from the high up coil. Even just the open door looked like it could balance a Golem. Some classified science experiment? A cruel, heavy duty prison? Perhaps…

A shot rang out. All Argon saw was Chimera's weapon, centered down at the last second, before a searing pain erupted from her knee. Something felt wet.

"F-fuck!" Argon cried, clutching the inch of bolt poking from her joint. "You p-piece of—"

The Raichu practically fell onto her now floating tail, but she wasn't stopping. It was all adrenaline now. Chimera's eyes widened from the almost feral growl his foe gave. She snarled with her target set, one goal in mind to send a few thousand volts through his spine.

An orange and yellow blur sped right before centering on Chimera's form. Yellow static spewed from her cheeks almost too quick to track, encompassing the Raichu like an electric bonfire. Chimera hadn't even drawn his second bolt before Argon plowed into him.

Everything burned. His very scales crackled being sent through the air, superheated from the impact. A sharp crack of Bagon against concrete pillar added insult to injury. His chest felt like it'd hit burning wax, but Chimera's forehead had absorbed most of the back impact. She wasn't done yet.

He never hit the floor, stuck against what was left of the pillar, a fly to a windshield. A look crossed Chimera's face that he hadn't had since the Rampardos attack. His stubby hands stood in place from nonexistent handcuffs. Argon's seething mind, and telepathic aura made sure of that.

"You selfish, stilted prick!" Argon cried, pushing him further to the stone. "Do you really think you're gonna come out of this on top?! The uncaring human who helped enslave thousands of pallids?!"

A stammered, quiet attempt at reply fell on deaf ears. Psychic aura pulsed from Argon's form with every seething breath. Matching it were Chimera's hyperventilations, suddenly feeling his arm bend of its own free will. Argon gave little sympathy to the Bagon. To a self-serving, despot appeasing, lying sack of—

A crack pierced her ears, with a shrill cry. Argon blinked, seeing the Bagon's stubby hand bent at a right angle backwards.

"G-god fucking dammit," Chimera fumed, fighting through the tears to look Argon in the eye. "You… you don't know what it's like!"

Argon got in half a word before Chimera's free hand had tossed the orb. The bunker erupted in a blinding light, assaulting the Raichu's eyes and taking her concentration with it. The second's delay was all he needed, charging forth with an adrenaline fueled numbness to his arm. She dashed back in a stumble, rubbing with a paw only to gasp from a crossbow stock crashing against her chest. Two ribs snapped and Argon cried out. The cold concrete of the opposite pillar greeted the back of her head.

"I wasn't born with your world!" Chimera shouted. "I didn't come from a place where you could work six hours a day and not have to choose between rent and food. Where gold and silver grows on trees. Where success is the rule, not the exception. This is my chance, Argon, a-and... between us, you've had it good from this system far longer than I have!"

One look up, and Chimera's forehead was maybe three feet from bashing her chest. With no time to think Argon braced herself on her bad leg, gritting her teeth through a surge of pain to dash away. With not an inch to spare she dodged the charge, while her Bagon foe crashed against the pillar, sending chunks of stone across the floor. She glanced down, only just eyeing the bits of blood seeping from her wound.

"But I'm trying to make things better," Argon cried back, lurching up to her feet. "T-the pallids never had that world either. The one stopping them right now is you. N-not Binair. Not 'the system.' You."

A half second hesitation did Chimera in. The Bagon reached for his weapon while Argon limped forth, one hand on the crossbow prod and a single tooth pulling back the string. A morbid sense of deja vu took to Argon while she primed her paw, sparks glistening with each finger. She'd knocked him out once, she could do it again.

The thunder punch soared, and with eyes shot wide Chimera raised the first thing he had to block the blow. Wood splintered against the impact, shooting the Bagon back with only a broken stock in his hand. The rest fell to the floor in a husk of wood and steel broken beyond repair.

"I," Chimera gasped, throwing the remnants aside, "I know that. I'm not running from that. B-but… I also know in a couple short decades you and I are gonna be buried ten feet below no matter what we do here."

Argon tilted her head, watching any stray move from the Bagon once the two began to circle, just a few feet apart. The Raichu's half limp was matched by the Bagon's chittering wince at any touch of his arm.

"What does that matter?" Argon asked. "We shouldn't help others with the time we have? You having a good life is worth more than—"

"I've already had my second chance!" Chimera shot back. "I'm not going to get a third. One body, one mind. Then… nothing."

A thunderbolt crackled from Argon's tail, earning a singe on Chimera's scales before he'd dashed away. The rest charred against the ceiling, while the bunker itself seemed to give a revolting shake at the impact. Bits of concrete rained down around them.

"I've already spent one life in the gutter," Chimera declared. "I'm not gonna risk another. I-I can't. I…"

He charged. Thunder clashed, hitting like a title wave against the Bagon's lowered head. He wasn't stopping.

"I won't!"

Argon's gasp was drowned out by a defiant yell. Her back hit the floor, while blue scales pinned her down. The Raichu's pupils dilated, in a fight or flight surge like never before. It couldn't end like this. Not now. Not here.

Not with her former partner holding a sharpened bolt to her throat.

"Stay down!" Chimera shouted.

His voice cracked, all power gone. He was a beggar.

"P-please… stay down."

He wouldn't do it. He… he couldn't, could he? Argon's maw stammered in numb silence. A finely honed edge glinted against her neck. Bagon and Raichu lied with hushed breaths, while the bunker lurched with another rumble.

Was there anything? Anything at all to turn this around? She couldn't shock him, at least not before he'd have all the time in the world to carve up her throat. In the silence, the rest of the bunker seemed to come into view. The disheveled crossbow prod just out of reach. The two time gears spinning constant as ever a few feet behind her head. And just behind Chimera…

Her eyes darted up. That strange contraption stood, bulky as ever to the Bagon's back. Arceus knew what its use was prior, but it'd work. One problem solved, but before?

Argon's teeth grinded while Chimera awaited her answer, scaly hand constant near her neck. Ever so faintly a paw lowered to her bloodied knee. It was morbid, but…

"Chimera," Argon whispered, sharing one last look at her partner, "I won't be the one to bury you."

She bit down. With the force of Drednaw Argon's fangs slammed down against Chimera's hand. He barely had time to scream. One second more and her bloodied paw struck right between his eyes. The Bagon stumbled, shouting swear after swear, balancing himself against an open steel door. This was it.

A psychic push, and single kick to his chest sealed the deal. One blink followed another as the Bagon careened back, only seeing a red daze. It wasn't until the clang of his forehead hitting the hexagonal metal wall that Chimera realized where he was. Suddenly, the punctures on his hand seemed an afterthought.

"... Wait."

He charged, in vain. Argon was already to her feet, and slammed the bulkhead door just in time for Chimera to cave in a small dent. Motors whirred, and tumblers shut. For the first time in days Argon felt relief; not even he could escape this.

"W-wait no!" Chimera stammered, trying once more to wipe the blood off. "Please don't-"

"ATTENTION. TRANSFER CHAMBER HAS BEEN SEALED. COILS CHARGING. TRANSFER WILL BEGIN SHORTLY."

What? Argon stepped back, while the pistons pushed in full force, and the coil above Chimera took on a faint glow. From the abject horror on the Bagon's face, she'd just signed his death warrant.

Two more headbutts against the thick glass windows were predictably null, sending Chimera crashing back into the center of the machine. At the third, limp attempt Chimera slumped over, forehead against the glass. There couldn't have been more than a foot between them on opposite sides of the machine, but he looked a world away. Hands shook. Teeth chattered. A single thought crossed him, the final words of a cornered animal.

"I-I'm going back," Chimera said.

It was a plain statement. No doubt about it. Argon's ears drooped all the same.

"Wait, what do you mean?" Argon asked. "What is—"

"I'm going back."

With the second time, he'd convinced himself it was true. Argon's cheeks sparked, in a rare opportunity to make sense of the barrage of the last day. What had her old boss said? 'From one human to another'? Binair had obviously kept this a secret. If Chimera had been here, and there were no Legendary shenanigans to how he they'd both arrived, then—

Oh shit.

Chimera's bloodied, thousand yard stare confirmed it. He stood unmoving, with one realization after another seeping into his consciousness. His jaw stammered.

"I… "

A few minutes at best, and everything would be gone. There was no out from this. The thousands of pokemon that had looked to him for answers. Any sense of meaning to the shiny platinum badge pinned to his bag. Even the private fucking office with the newton cradle. One push, and it was dust.

"H-how— no…"

Human again. He didn't have long here. The Bagon across Argon gave a slow, morbid laugh. He knew it well. It all set in. All this time, and the boulder had rolled right back down.

"So that's how it ends," Chimera said. "After every choice, that's how I'll go down. The stilted, jaded prick who betrayed everyone who ever loved him for nothing. The fool who amounted to jack shit, at the price of everything."

"Would it have mattered any other way?"

Chimera froze at Argon's question. He looked up, bracing for her venom, yet behind it was something else. She'd held enough bile to slam him across the room minutes ago, and yet… their fates had been decided. The plot was over. The revolution would go on. It was just them now. Human and partner. Melancholy diluted the Raichu's anger, as if she'd left her own trance.

"What if our places were reversed?" Argon asked. "What meaning would that life have, after causing so much pain to others? Would it really have been worth it? I-If this is how it ends, if you're really going to leave… I want to know."

All too quickly his gut shouted a morbid yes. He couldn't weep in these final moments. Beg. Admit himself the bloodied fool in an idiot's tale. But despite every effort Chimera's voice fell. Something in the Bagon's being had dammed that answer. With every spark, crumble, and slam of pistons a strange fog cleared, with only one thing left to find.

All he could see was black. Yet Argon was across the glass, nothing on this world or another could block out what he'd see. The last few seconds seemed to flash before him. The piercing cries of his partner. The blood that had oozed from her knee with every step.

That was the world he was building, wasn't it? He couldn't lie to himself any longer. No ambitious half truths or convenient justifications could cover that blood. How much had gone unseen? How many others would share Argon's fate to crown his success? She held her breath, a few messy tears starting to form. They'd have only one chance for the truth.

"I…. " Chimera said, letting out one last, glum sigh, "no. No it wouldn't. I've been bullshitting myself for too long. Walking a path that's brought nothing but pain and misery for everyone. Nothing I can say now will change that."

The coil charged, with faint flickers of blue static crackling across the Bagon's skin. A few seconds more, and Argon gasped. Ever so faintly, a bit of Chimera's arm seemed to flicker. He gave it no thought, staring back as a thin mix of red dripped from his eyes. Blind as a bat, it all seemed the same.

"And to top off that smoldering shitfest of mistakes," Chimera whispered, "I ended my time in this world by stabbing and betraying the one person I should have trusted most. I-I… god, I'm sorry."

Not all wounds healed overnight. Argon gritted her teeth, just a tad short of acceptance while a jolt of pain hit from her knee. The silence spoke volumes. With all her being she wanted to believe, but he'd lied once before. Chimera's heart sank with a silent, yet morbid chuckle. She was right, of course. He'd made his bed.

Even so, there had to be something. One way to undo a bit of the damage he'd caused. Anything to show his partner that it wasn't all in vain. Nothing else mattered.

He had nothing left in hand to give. Perhaps… a promise?

"It's not much," Chimera said, "but I want you to know I'm going to be better when I get back. I-I'm gonna try and be more than the gloomy human that went to this world, or the self serving Bagon that came back. That path starts now, a-and— in fact…"

He motioned past Argon, pointing to, of all things, the time gears. At their azure glow a pit formed in Argon's stomach. Just a few feet away, the relics that had helped bring them together and tore them apart. She should have dropped them when she had the chance.

"If Faire really is going to change forever, then you have to show them," Chimera continued. "The gears we were gonna use to freeze every single Pallid here. 'A habit of amplification' is what Binair called it."

One blink, and Argon could almost see that from the mountain Rampardos again, unflinching as time itself before them.

"So that's—"

It was obvious enough they'd planned some way to end the revolution, but this?! Mass capture then enslavement, tantamount to genocide. She turned back, sharing a look with her blind partner that told well enough. The pokemon would see now. Binair wouldn't have a choice.

He wasn't the only one. An intangible feeling of lightness crossed Chimera's chest, while the coil above had turned a vibrant blue. With a gasp the Bagon pounded against the glass, his arm growing just a bit fainter through the static.

"Please!" he begged. "I-I want you to know it wasn't all for nothing between us. Even if you don't believe me. I wouldn't blame you, b-but… I just need to say it. You have my word I'll be a better man. One that can live for more than just myself."

His very being blinked like an image out of sync. That same voice from the cavern was in full force to Argon. Turning her back on the pragmatic had screwed her before, and right now that choice was collecting those gears and leaving him to his fate. Sentimentality kept her, sure, but there was something more than that. Something deeper.

Before her stood a Bagon bloodied with nothing left. As flawed or more so than any other pokemon. Overambitious. Arrogant. Couldn't paddle across a river if his life depended on it. Even so his words left the same heart and mind. The human that came into her life, introduced her to a world like never before and, in the end, had the will to atone for his own mistakes. Inch by inch her tepid paw raised to the glass. There was only one thing to say.

"Chimera, I believe you."

He shot back, as if slapped with a fish. Upon realizing her words hadn't been the delirious delusions of a Bagon's fading mind, Chimera held a faint smile. The echoes of that same, toothy grin. It took a bit, but Argon was happy to oblige with her own.

"T-that's all I need, Argon," Chimera replied. "Thank you. Thank you so—"

He fell back, that billowing lightness growing ever stronger. Argon slammed her paw against the door when what was left of two support columns crumpled apart, taking a corner of the ceiling with it. Chimera's gasp at Argon's danger was louder than her own, though the cave-in was a few feet away. Their breaths grew no softer.

"It's not safe here," Chimera said, before slumping back. "And… I don't think I have much longer."

The coil above fizzed with a soft whir, preparing for one last shock. With heavy steps, Argon turned back. She couldn't object.

"So it is," Argon replied with a sniffle. "Chimera, I-I'm sorry things went the way they did. I wish we could have been partners for so much longer. Even with everything that's happened, I… I'll be glad to have had you as a friend."

A simple nod from Chimera said enough. Energy crackled with finality across his scales. Only one chance left to say it.

"The feeling couldn't be more mutual," Chimera replied. "And—"

He bit his lip. A bit of old pride nipped at the Bagon's thoughts but he fought it off.

"Looking back, I can say without a doubt you were the friend I needed coming here. You stuck by my side in the worst of moments, but knew when I needed someone to call me out on my bullshit."

The energy through the coil condensed, forming a glowing sphere at the center. Argon flinched, while Chimera let out a deep breath.

"I'll never forget that," Chimera said, looking to Argon with one last, wary smile. "You know, it's a bit ironic. The Raichu that wanted nothing more than to help her fellow man, that ended up meaning more to Faire than any other pokemon could."

A bolt shot down, encompassing Chimera in an aura of light. Through the thundering crash, Argon could faintly hear a chuckle.

"Decent story to tell."

The smoke cleared, and he was gone. Argon sat staring at the empty chamber for a few more seconds, as old memories flowed tandem with new aspirations. A lingering silence filled the room, while her paw set from the glass. With a vigor in her heart long thought buried, the Raichu turned. Three gears floated, heavy and smooth in one paw. In the other, laid a wooden stock, splintered across the grain yet whole nonetheless.

It was that moment the two souls departed. Human and Pokemon, intertwined through the crossing fates of a thread that diverged to new tapestries. The revolution would close, the beings in its wake would emerge wiser upon a new world, and tomorrow would come.

The sun rose bright across Faire, for a path long traveled had reached its end.

---​

Final Author's Notes: And… that's a wrap, folks. At least, for the most part. It's been a long, winding journey that the young high schooler I was could never imagine its challenges and rewards, but Pathways of Aspiration has reached its tentative end.

I know as well as anyone there is still a decent amount to be resolved. Cerise and Binair's fate. The true extent of Faire's change. Argon and Eoin's final words in their shared future. My true plan is to bring those lingering threads to a close in an epilogue chapter. If I'd had the time for more regular updates, I'd have put in a couple more chapters, but a pandemic continues, and in just a few days I'll be starting a new chapter of my own life in college.

That's not to say I'll be silent until then. In truth, I've wanted an opportunity like this to go over and/or rewrite some of the earlier chapters that didn't age as well past the initial rewrites. This'll also give a chance for me to do a sweeping check to fix… some of the more embarrassing typos that have accumulated over my writing. Not to mention some more flexibility to work with other oneshots and story concepts. Once any rewrites or major edits have been done, I'll be sure to edit in a message at the end of this note.

In the meantime, I'd like to take this opportunity to give my wholehearted appreciation for all the fine folks that have helped me get this far.

Starting up, Pathways of Aspiration Beta Readers: Namohysip, author of Hands of Creation, and MadderJacker, author of A Home Far Away.

Namo, I won't mince words saying the support you gave me during and after the opening months of my story are a major reason I've gone on this long. You're astute, hardworking, and the likes of the Pallid worldbuilding and Eoin's characterization wouldn't be half of what it was without your input. Thank you for everything, and I wish you the best on your writing endeavors.

MJ, since the day you offered to beta my story you've held a keen eye and talent for editing that I only hope I'll someday match. Since day one you've saved my hide more than a few times. 'Locomobile'. 'Reviced Chapter'. Cringeworthy on my part even now, but as you said, 'Cringe ages like fine wine'. It was your input and the standard you set combing over my chapters that helped light a fire under my ass and grow as an author. Best wishes with your story, and thanks a ton.

As a final note for the both of you, I appreciate you encouraging my writing, yet also telling me what I might not have wanted, but nonetheless needed to hear. Thank you both for always being there when I needed someone, writing or otherwise.

As for smaller yet no less important appreciation, thank you Snapinator, artist of Seeds of Dissonance for drawing the wonderful artwork of Argon and Chimera. Thank you to all the wonderful folks of the PMD Writers United discord server, for giving the community, advice, and friendship I'd be hard pressed to find anywhere else.

Lastly, perhaps the most important of all, my sincerest thanks to every single reader who decided to give my story a chance! I cannot stress enough how much knowing there were folks out there waiting for where Pathways of Aspiration would go helped pull me back to the keyboard. I know PMD stories nowadays aren't exactly scarce, and I hope I made your time reading my story worth it.

I'll certainly try not to be a stranger! As some parting words, I thought I'd use a phrase I read once at a story's end, from a PMD fanfiction that helped inspire my journey into writing. When the world closes in, and you can't decide which path to choose, remember…

Smiles go for miles.

Au Revoir Everyone, but not goodbye.
 
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