PARAGON

  Unknown Enemy Arc [10]

  Chapter 96 : Abyss and Summit

  Unova Region - Twist Mountain

  The path was unseen, but behind Reshiram’s fiery gait, it could be walked.

  That was all N felt like he’d been doing, for hours now.

  Their silent steps echoed through a dark cave whose entrance looked more like a slash in the mountain than a hole in rock. Only the glow of Reshiram’s tail illuminated the way ahead. N could hear whispers and the flutter of wings from Woobat and Swoobat far, far above, but none dared approach.

  N clutched Spiritomb’s shard in his hand, but Reshiram didn’t need it. One glimpse was all the dragon needed to catch the unearthly scent. It was supposed to be a trail only ghosts could follow, but a dragon like Reshiram did not abide by the boundaries set by lesser creatures. He simply advanced.

  N did not know why Reshiram was leading him here, of all places. He did not even know how Cynthia would have gone about burying Sylvester here, then blitzing off to the other side of the world to meet with Zelda in Alola. But he trusted Reshiram, so he followed.

  The flight atop Reshiram had been a brief respite from their cove in northern Johto, but N once again found himself isolated from the world. However, this time, instead of his friends beside him, he found himself with naught but nameless pokémon to keep him, or at least, the shadows he cast, company.

  He believed himself a bit twisted for finding greater solace in the latter.

  Ever since he was a child, whenever the world closed in too violently, too abruptly around him, he abandoned humanity and sought out pokémon. Forests, caves, silent woods, and shadowed fields were his domains.

  Now, the isolation of this dark crevice served him well.

  He wanted to say the news of Cynthia’s death was not shocking to him. That for some reason, he’d been expecting it, and that was why he’d had such a subdued reaction to the news compared to his friends.

  But deep down, he knew that wasn’t why.

  He simply hadn’t cared as much as them.

  And the thought of that tore him to shreds.

  Why was it that seeing his friends despair hurt his heart more than the actual tragedy?

  With grief foreign to him even now…did that mean he wasn’t human?

  It certainly felt like he was missing something fundamental as a human.

  He rested his hand on the rock wall as he followed Reshiram deeper into the depths. They were lucky the cave was wide enough to accommodate Reshiram’s size. Spearow could not guide him to the end, and he could feel her talons digging into his shoulder as he walked. Every time she flapped her wings, the Lunar and Nightmare Wings embedded in her wings flashed throughout the cave.

  Without his friends at his side, he felt a certain relief from the guilt that had been devouring him every second he remained in their grieving presences. But it did not vanish entirely, and now that he was alone with his thoughts, he was being forced to confront them.

  The others were prepared to go to war to claim vengeance for Cynthia. No doubt they were ready to give up their lives, if necessary. Could N say the same?

  And even if he could, was it because he truly wanted vengeance for Cynthia? Or was it just because he valued his own life so little?

  It’s not like he was suicidal. But even if the life of the smallest, most insignificant pokémon—by humanity’s standards—could be saved in exchange for his life, N believed he’d make the trade.

  Perhaps this is what that young man Caleb had meant when he’d said N didn’t understand what it meant to be a trainer. Sure, he commanded Reshiram in battle, but his heart was never really in it. He only battled out of necessity. Quite simply, he wasn’t serious about being a trainer.

  When the chips were down and Zelda Leora stood before them, could his friends rely on him to do his part? Would he bring enough power to the table? Even if he desired vengeance, did he have the talent to claim it?

  Your thoughts are loud, N. I’m going to lose the trail.

  Reshiram’s voice jolted N from his thoughts and he shuddered. “Reshiram! I’m sorry, I just…”

  Reflection is well and good, especially in a period of mourning like this. But you have a duty to perform soon. You should steel yourself for what’s to come.

  Of course.

  N was about to reunite with Sylvester and tell him his cousin was dead. N’s emotions now were minuscule compared to what Sylvester was about to experience.

  “You’re right,” N said, his voice echoing. “Thank you, Reshiram.”

  The dragon snorted, brushing past a blunt stalactite. I notice we have a new friend.

  As if on cue, Spearow chirped happily atop N’s head.

  Though N could understand her, her voice was not nearly as clear as Reshiram’s.

  “Ah, not exactly. Spearow is Cynthia’s companion. I’m simply looking after her now that…well, you know.”

  Spearow pecked at N’s head, and N winced, trying to stave off her attack.

  She seems reluctant to part with you.

  N wasn’t the only one grieving. Despite how little time they’d spent together, it was clear that Spearow missed Cynthia. And now that she’d grown attached to N, he could hear the silent wish behind her melancholic chirps.

  Please don’t make me say goodbye to someone else.

  “What we’re doing is incredibly dangerous. Eventually, I’ll need to leave her in a safe place while we—“

  Spearow squawked, jumping down into N’s face and flapping her wings furiously.

  “Not forever!” N bit out through feather and frenzy. “Just while we confront Zelda Leora!”

  Whatever we’re about to encounter cannot possibly be anymore dangerous than where your master brought her.

  “Reshiram!”

  Whose side was he on anyway?

  You were so concerned just earlier about whether or not you are a true trainer. If I may be so bold, why not befriend Spearow properly and raise her as a trainer would? I believe it would be a constructive exercise for the both of you.

  Spearow stopped attacking him for a moment and they locked eyes. Immediately, Spearow chittered happily, and N sighed, massaging his temples.

  “I thought I just explained why I couldn’t…”

  Danger, pain, injury… These results do not necessarily constitute a moral failing on the part of a human who brings a pokémon to battle. I thought that was a lesson you already learned years ago.

  “Just because I know that doesn’t mean I must ignore my misgivings,” N grumbled.

  Time dulled again after the lapse in silence ended. The darkness seemed to thicken as they descended. The path ahead became more cragged and unrefined, until eventually, every step was bumpy and untraveled.

  Reshiram stopped and Spearow cooed, flapping over to the dragon. Perhaps Reshiram had won her over with their interaction earlier, for she showed no fear as she nestled atop his wing.

  The origin of the path lies just ahead, Reshiram intoned.

  N nodded and stepped past his pokémon. Reshiram offered him a greater expanse of light with a flare of his tail, and their shadows danced off the cave walls.

  Nestled among the blunted stalagmites at the terminus of this tunnel rested a cracked stone.

  N’s brows tightened. He withdrew the stone shard from his pocket and opened his hand. The shard shuddered, then flew off his hand, attaching itself to a microscopic mar on the stone.

  Spiritomb awoke with a rumble of fury, rock and rage grinding against one another as ghastly energy seeped out of its crack and spiraled into a twisted visage of neon spirits.

  “Spiritomb.”

  The ghost hissed, its infernal whispers tracing down the cave like an echo, and N realized there was more than just the usual rage encased within Spiritomb’s form. There was another lilt hidden among the folds of its wrathful voice.

  Grief.

  N swallowed and closed his fist, steeling himself. A draft emanated outward from Spiritomb as it moved, and N realized he was sweating.

  “Where is Sylvester?”

  For a moment, Spiritomb calmed. The grief and rage that had saturated it so slipped away. Its amorphous body bulged and lurched forward, suctioning to the ground, before withdrawing in a hasty flail.

  Sylvester lay on the ground between them.

  Before N even had a chance to open his mouth again, Spiritomb’s form slithered back into the crack in its keystone, and the stone went silent.

  Sylvester stirred.

  N knelt. “Sylvester,” he said quietly, not wanting to startle the man.

  Sylvester twitched, alerted to the voice, and he pawed at the ground, pushing himself to his feet.

  “It’s N,” N said. He considered offering Sylvester a hand up, but figured it’d be better for him to interact with his surroundings on his own. Assuming Cynthia imprisoned him around the same time she “recorded” her message, that meant Sylvester had been stranded in a limbo for months.

  When Sylvester turned toward him, the light that fell over his face made N shiver.

  His face was gaunt, eyes bloodshot, cheeks sunken. His hair fell in greasy tangles, and his formerly spotless clothes were covered in stains.

  He seized forward and grasped N’s collar.

  “Where’s Cynthia?” His voice was hoarse and his eyes were swollen with a desperate fury.

  N heard Reshiram step forward behind him and he threw up his hand. Spearow squawked angrily, but Sylvester ignored her, or hadn’t even noticed her.

  For all long as he’d pondered his approach, seeing Sylvester in this crazed state paralyzed N. His words dried and disintegrated before they could leave his throat.

  Sylvester blinked, searching N’s face for an answer. Slowly, his desperation wilted away, and he stepped back, releasing N.

  “I see…,” he muttered, his voice barely a vapor. “She’s dead.”

  N couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. The air was pregnant with tension and Sylvester stood motionless, his gaze cast downward, listless like a zombie.

  When he looked back at N, his eyes flashed with murderous intent, and N recoiled instinctively. Reshiram growled, the flame in his tail rumbling.

  “Ungrateful runts,” he spat, yanking a pokéball from his belt.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  N realized too late what Sylvester was about to do. Though even if he had, he wasn’t sure if he’d have been able to stop it. N knew, better than most, that despite the man’s innocuous vocation and demeanor, Sylvester Shirona was no amateur pokémon trainer.

  His pokéball whistled through the air and snapped open beside N.

  “Fly!” Sylvester hissed, leaping atop the back of a massive Fezandipiti.

  The creature’s eyes were slits and they shimmered as it took stock of its surroundings. Fezandipiti, like its poisonous cousins, were notoriously unfaithful and malicious, yet somehow, Sylvester had bent one to his will.

  N barely had time to shield his eyes before Fezandipiti bolted down the shadowed tunnel, leaving a blaze of amethyst toxin curling in the air.

  “Wait!” N yelled. “Sylvester!”

  Gritting his teeth, he mounted Reshiram. “Come, Spearow! We need to go after him!”

  Spearow fluttered onto N’s shoulder and Reshiram twisted around, knocking crags of rock from the walls and catalyzing avalanches around them. Lumbering forward, Reshiram scooped up Spiritomb and jumped, and N felt his engine burn beneath him.

  Reshiram was fast, but Fezandipiti’s size would give them an advantage in here. Which meant they’d need to find it fast after emerging from the mountain.

  Sylvester’s cries of grief and rage reverberated through the cave and N shuddered.

  Sylvester didn’t know they were wanted by the world. That they were enemies of the International Police. His recklessness would get him caught or worse if N didn’t apprehend him first.

  “Speed up, Reshiram,” N urged.

  He had a new assignment now.

  Kanto Region - Indigo Plateau

  “Coffee? Tea?”

  Lance motioned to a lavish leather couch that faced his barren teak desk, and Riley sat down. His office was dark, like Lance himself, though not for lack of light; the Champion simply seemed to prefer dark colors.

  “No, thank you.”

  Ignoring him, Lance snapped at one of his silent attendants who’d held the door open for them and flicked his finger at Riley.

  Several minutes later, the attendant returned with a tray of tea. Riley accepted his cup with a nod, and the attendant left Lance’s on his desk. Bowing, he departed and shut the door behind him, leaving the two men alone.

  “I’m sure you’re already aware, Sir Riley, but I don’t ordinarily grant audiences so flippantly. Due to your…circumstances, I’ll let it slide today, but please be aware that I cannot be so accommodating if there is a next time.”

  “I apologize for the imposition.”

  Lance’s arms were crossed before him like an iron wall and his gaze did not leave Riley. “Not many are capable of getting to the peak of Indigo Plateau without going through Victory Road. It’s commendable, but if you were hoping to challenge the League, you’d have been disqualified for that.”

  “I’m not here for that.”

  “No, I suppose not.” Lance exhaled. “You have my condolences for what happened in Rota. An unforgivable tragedy. The League is committed to ensuring no such barbarism occurs ever again.”

  “I appreciate that, Lord Champion.” Riley laced his fingers together. “I’d like to discuss that matter, if you don’t mind.”

  Lance bristled, but his stern visage was so immoveable, Riley could not tell if it was because he was uncomfortable or annoyed. “The League has already donated a staggering sum toward the Guardians’ restoration and we’re working closely with the International Police to root out the terrorists’ collaborators. I fear your flight was for naught, Sir. We are already on your side.”

  “The Guardians are thankful for your assistance. But this is about the poison that once festered amidst your leadership.” Riley kept his expression stiff, mentally forcing himself not to cringe at what he was about to say next. “If Champion Cynthia was able to use the League as a vehicle to fuel her evil, how can we be confident that there are no others still doing the same?”

  This time, Riley could tell Lance was suppressing a sneer.

  “As has been reported, an internal investigation is underway, with oversight from respected parties. If any more of the League’s personnel is poisoned, to use your term, they will be purged immediately.”

  Riley leaned back, preparing to initiate further confrontation. It was a fine line he wanted to walk; he could only keep the conversation going for so long with pleas of transparency or accountability alone. He wanted to upset Lance enough that the Champion would continue to engage him, but not so much that he was thrown out.

  Of course, there was the original mission to consider too: to gather intel on the League’s true leadership and the origin of their conspicuous fusion with national governments.

  “I have been watching the news,” Riley said coolly. “Gym leaders are being elevated and dethroned left and right. I appreciate the honor of an honest pokémon battle as much as the next man, but the attack on Rota appears to have inspired turbulence within the League. Who’s to say that bad actors haven’t slipped in beneath the shield of a fair and square victory?”

  “That question has been asked for the entire life of the Pokémon League, far preceding your tragedy. Rest assured, all League members go through an intense vetting process before we affix their names to our institution. We are well aware of the vulnerability you described, and in the wake of the Rota Incident, that process has become even more rigorous.”

  “I recall reading a story from several years ago, that the head of the notorious Team Rocket was outed as a gym leader of Kanto.”

  Lance’s lip curled. “That story is from more than several years ago, and there’s been nothing like it ever since. Viridian City’s gym leader is now the esteemed Gary Oak, son of Professor Samuel Oak.”

  “Nothing until Champion Cynthia.”

  Lance’s eyes narrowed. “Did you come here for a fight, Sir?”

  Maybe a bit much. Riley threw up his hands. “No. I’m sorry. It’s just…we’re all still on edge. It hasn’t been easy… My people want reassurance.”

  Lance nodded slowly. “You look tired, Sir. Respectfully,” he added hastily.

  Probably because I’ve been sleeping in a cave.

  Despite his time spent in Hisui, he was hardly used to outdoor living like Ash and Pikachu.

  “Let me approach this from a different angle,” Riley said. “The regional governments. Increasingly, it is said they are under the League’s control. How can we be confident that our lawmakers are not under some undue influence?”

  “Conspiracy theories,” Lance growled. “The League is a global institution, of course we work with the government. But we do not encroach into politics. When we are asked to provide a service, we oblige.”

  “And what service is that?”

  Lance paused for a long second. “Security.”

  Riley nodded. “Of course. The League creates the best trainers, after all.”

  “If any of you Guardians are looking for work, perhaps you could join us. You are a formidable bunch as well.”

  Riley let out a hollow chuckle. “Tempting, Champion, but my people have always lived apart from the rest of the world. After the Great War, we tried to keep to ourselves to avoid a similar catastrophe.”

  “That same world has coalesced and come to your aid, Sir Riley. Perhaps it’s time to rethink that policy.” Lance twitched. “I apologize. That was rude.”

  Riley shook his head. “I know you’re not at the top of the ladder yet I’ve subjected you to my interrogation all the same. I’m sorry too.” He locked eyes with Lance.

  Lance held his gaze, but looked away a moment later. “The Board has been working overtime to get to the bottom of Cynthia’s treachery.”

  He spoke Cynthia’s name with ill-concealed contempt.

  The Board. Riley almost snorted. Give me a break. I’d bet my life that it’s a Platebearer who has his hand up your ass.

  “Any chance I’d be able to meet with the Board?” Riley asked.

  “None,” Lance said immediately. “Chairwoman Geeta barely has enough time to attend to her duties as is.”

  “Her duties…?”

  Lance stared at Riley. “She’s Paldea’s Champion. They’re the newest League so she’s overseeing its operation personally until she’s defeated.”

  “I see. Champion and Chairwoman sounds exhausting.” Just like Champion and director of Paragon… “Paldea’s League seems particularly unique as well…” Riley remembered seeing a TV spot about it some time ago.

  “Yes, yes, the child genius. For the record, I actually advised against naming a six-year-old to the Elite Four, but ‘her IQ is supposedly over 200 and she’ll be like their mascot’ and yada yada.” Lance shook his head. “I’m sorry for complaining. Can I help you with anything else, Sir Riley?”

  Riley shook and offered his hand. “No, thank you for making the time, Champion. It’s greatly appreciated.”

  Lance gave a stiff smile and shook Riley’s hand. “As I said, we’re on your side.

  As Riley was walking toward the door, he spun around. “One more thing, if you don’t mind.”

  “Hm?”

  “The device that destroyed Rota… I trust it’s in safe hands?”

  Lance’s face didn’t move. For a moment, Riley thought he’d gone too far.

  “I wouldn’t know anything about that, that’s the International Police’s jurisdiction.”

  Riley exhaled and nodded. “I see. Good day, then, Champion.”

  He could feel Lance’s eyes burning his back as he turned away.

  I hope that gave Zinnia enough time…

  Lance’s attendants opened the doors to the office from outside and Riley departed. As they led him back to the lobby, Riley fingered Metagross’ pokéball.

  Only once he was outside and away from the building did he deploy his psychic companion. The iron titan hovered above the ground and released a satisfied groan as the wind passed over it.

  “Eavesdrop, Metagross. This location.” Riley transmitted the coordinates to Lance’s office to his partner and started to listen. An Aura Guardian spontaneously appearing at Indigo Plateau was strange enough. Maybe Lance would feel the need to report it to…whoever he reported to.

  Metagross’ voice crackled and hummed like the static of a radio. Lance’s voice warbled as Metagross adjusted the psychic frequency until it could be heard clearly.

  “…asked about the weapon but doesn’t seem to know anything,” Metagross intoned, mimicking Lance’s voice. “I wouldn’t worry about him.”

  Riley’s eyes widened. Already!

  A pause.

  “I don’t think it’s worth the time. The Guardians are a nonfactor. Especially to the man you work for.”

  Riley frowned. “Capture the other speaker, Metagross.”

  Metagross’ body released a crank-like sound, as if heavy gears were turning within it.

  “Ah, but you work for me, dear Champion, and I’m telling you the Guardians should not be underestimated!”

  Riley’s heart stopped in his chest and he nearly vomited.

  That’s Zagreus’ voice!

  “The Guardians worked with the Paragon Organization in Rota! He could be in league with them!”

  A chill ran through Riley. He was already being suspected, and Zagreus had gotten it exactly right.

  Lance cleared his throat. “As you say, my lord.”

  Zagreus scoffed. “Though even if he is, he gains nothing from his meeting with you. But do not do it again. If a Guardian makes contact again, repulse him.”

  Riley felt sweat drip down his neck. This is not what he’d expected at all. At worse, he’d been expecting a Vandrick like figure, who conducted the forces of a Platebearer from the shadows. Someone they could corner and get information out of.

  “Yes, my lord.” Lance hesitated. “Speaking of…is there any word on our delivery?”

  “Ah, yes! You’ll be pleased to know that all the pieces have arrived safely. Reconstruction has already begun, but it will take some time without the original schematics.”

  “That is good.”

  “No trouble with Diantha?”

  Lance hesitated. “No.”

  Riley’s heart raced as he listened in. Champions Lance and Diantha work for Zagreus…? But who does Zagreus serve…?

  “Excellent. Perhaps I’ll put in a good word for her. But onto more current matters. As you might have gathered, the world is moving briskly toward chaos, and chaos means opportunity.”

  “You refer to the International Police’s manhunt for the Paragon Organization.”

  “Yes. The Queenpin’s dogs have bit through her leash and now Interpol is scrambling to get their house in order before our guests arrive.”

  “Guests…?”

  “Yes. None of this chaos is an accident. Everything is spiraling toward the singularity.”

  “Forgive me, my lord. I don’t follow.”

  “You don’t need to follow. You just need to follow me. I’m telling you of this before the others because there will come a time in the near future when a man of discernment will be needed for a certain task.”

  Lance grunted with pride. “I am ready.”

  “Good. This opportunity concerns the administration of the International Police.”

  Lance faltered. “My lord, you aren’t suggesting an assault on the International Police’s leadership, are you? That would be…”

  “No. But as much as I detest them, we and the Paragon Organization find a common enemy in the Queenpin. And if things play out ideally, they’ll wipe each other out, like Aaron and the Kalos king did.”

  Riley’s teeth clenched. They spoke of his king’s death like it was nothing more than a casualty of some greater political game. Zagreus’ treachery was well known, but to think even a Champion could think so callously… First the International Police, and now the Pokémon League.

  The institutions of this world are twisted…

  “The Paragon Organization…” Lance said. “Surely they stand no chance against her… Even if they have the International Police running circles around them…if they ever threatened the Queenpin directly, she’d get involved herself.”

  “Don’t underestimate them,” Zagreus snapped. “I’ve faced them before. That’s why we’re leaving them alone. Let them writhe about on the world stage. Their flailing will only harm the Queenpin. And while she’s busy engaging the monster she created, we will take it upon ourselves to ensure the International Police sees itself placed under new management.”

  “The International Police is the apparatus through which the Queenpin acts on the world stage. Even with the Paragon Organization needling her…she will not take it lying down. This…would be an act of war.”

  “Do I have the wrong man for the job?” Zagreus hissed. “Perhaps Diantha would be more enthusiastic?”

  Lance cleared his throat. “No, my lord! Whatever you ask, I will do.”

  “There’s a good dragon. Even if Paragon’s chances of winning are minuscule, it would be foolish not to take advantage of this chaos. Robbing the Queenpin of Interpol will force her to take more drastic measures, perhaps even a direct confrontation. Either way, we get what we want.”

  “I see. Then I will keep my eye on the International Police. And when the time is right…”

  “Excellent! I’m glad we’re on the same page! My master will be very pleased to hear this!”

  “I’m glad, my lord.”

  There was a pause.

  “If I may ask…the guests you referred to earlier… Are they truly…?”

  “Hm? Oh, yes, of course! They will be here soon.”

  Lance sighed. “So…the Paragon War continues…”

  “No, my dear Champion. This time, the Paragon War will end.”

  Next — Chapter 97 : Infiltration

  Apologies for the delay, I really could have had this out last week, but I started writing something else that I didn’t even finish so it was just a waste of time.