Chapter 29:Uncertainty
Anabel observed the young teen crawl into his knees as he sat on the ground, his hands touching the still smoking body of Metagross, who looked quite impaired, an obvious consequence of suffering the brunt of a point-blank explosion attack, especially one made by a steel-type like Metagross . For some reasons, explosion attacks made by the ground and steel-types were, in general, much more powerful than the average type. However, bearing the brunt of an explosion, was so to say, much of an acquired experience—it became easier the more you were exposed to it—almost akin to the manner how a pokémon slowly adapted to those attacks it was vulnerable against.
Slowly, painfully, and with a lot of time and effort.
He had outright stated that he wouldn't be continuing the battle any longer, which meant that this was where his conquest of the Tower would come to an end. A pity indeed, considering she wouldn't have minded seeing him battle some more. She had seen a lot of passionate trainers before this, and had stood on the crushed hopes of more than a hopeful few, though considering her stature as the Tower Tycoon, her peers were granted the opportunity much more than herself. Then again, she had the trainers attempting for the Battle Frontier all to herself.
She cast another glance at Ash Ketchum, her lips parting at the thought of saying something. Ash was still down on his knees, a look of blank shock still vivid on his countenance. Anabel wondered if he would even listen to her words should she try to speak to him.
So naturally, it was a surprise when red light flashed out of his poke-belt, as one of his pokémon released themselves out in the open- possibly because his elbow had hit the release button.
The red light condensed to form the shape of a large, golden Ninetales, her nine tails folded backwards as she regally stared, an inscrutable expression on her face, as she regarded Anabel, with her sharp, bright, crimson eyes.
Empath.
Anabel arched an eyebrow. All right, perhaps this wasn't what she had expected. The pokémon… A Ninetales with significant psychic awareness- had gotten out of her pokeball to talk to her, without her trainer's will and knowledge. A rather conspicuous feat, considering not even her own Metagross had been able to decipher that aspect of her innate capabilities, until he had evolved into his final stage from a Beldum—a period that took him over a year.
And this… Ninetales, seemed to have already known her identity as an empath before she had decided to have a conversation with her in the first place.
Anabel allowed a soft smile grace her face, as the Ninetales spread her psychic awareness outward, freezing the entire room, taking it completely out of the flow of Time. For reasons Anabel didn't possibly comprehend, she knew that aside from her and Ninetales, only Ash's Metagross, who was somewhat conscious, at far as his psychic awareness was considered at least- was aware of the changes that had occurred in his proximity, and if she was right, he was currently observing the Ninetales with a mixture of curiosity and outright wariness. Her own Metagross had fainted on the spot after he had used Explosion, and as far as Ash was concerned, the entire event wouldn't even register in his mind, considering he was currently as good as a puppet, frozen in Time.
"I assume you wish to speak to me about something."
I do. The Ninetales seemed… conflicted for some reason, as she cast a worried glance at her trainer. Then, she turned her sight towards Anabel, looking at her squarely in the eye. I understand that facing defeat is a necessity in the path to greatness, and I do mean this with the most respect…
She raised her nine tails upwards, forming a half-corona above herself, as the usual pink shade shifted into crimson red vermillion, and the world around herself and Anabel…
Changed.
The floor stood as it was, devastated, broken, fragmented, with the two Metagross on the ground—one partly conscious and one not, and a frozen Ash Ketchum, and standing on either end, Anabel and Aoi, and the entire universe around them… enveloped in pitch black, dense, sentient fog. A fog whose very presence would have been more than enough to get any psychic crying out in agony, a fog that was something into which even ghosts feared to tread, a fog that was the very essence of the powers that felines like Absol used to their benefit.
The Void, or to use the human term.
Distortion.
A psychic pokémon with control on distortion? What is this… creature?
It was almost like the entire floor was enveloped by the fog, the surface of an alien dimension that didn't exist, with the Ninetales on its very surface, without a care in the world, her tails raised and bright crimson, glowing ominously just like her eyes.
"… Crimson red vermillion…." Anabel stuttered, her face an expression of suspended belief, staring blankly, her mind conflicted between trying to accept what she was witnessing and trying to comprehend the sheer absurdity of the same.
For centuries, the Void has been my abode, and truth be told… The Ninetales spoke as if having a casual conversation. Ash is my only reason to exist in this world. I understand that this world is full of both innocent and selfish people, either of which might have nothing to do with Ash in general, but…
She paused, as Anabel held her breath.
Ash… is my master, my trainer. So I cannot comprehend the existence of a world that has the nerve to permit the survival of that which distorts, or worse, harms my trainer. It is… intolerable to me.
Anabel told herself that she was just seeing things. After all, she must have imagined the shape of a colossal sauropod with wings, glaring at her with ominous, crimson eyes, through the very distortion itself. Yes, she certainly must have imagined seeing the outline of the fallen behind this… this unstable little psycho of a Ninetales.
The peaceful look in her bright crimson eyes told her that the Ninetales was speaking the truth. She would actually unleash distortion into the world should something… sinister befall Ash Ketchum.
Anabel swallowed. The more cynical part of her wanted to point out that the Battle Tower existed to give a harsh time to challengers, showing them their weaknesses and limitations as harshly as possible. There was a reason after all, why only senior and Elite-level trainers even attempted their luck at a Battle Tower. The only reason Ash's application had been accepted had been because of the name on the sponsorship—Samuel Oak, and the fact that he was an Honorary associate of the League. She had simply thought that Ash was one of those prodigies that came once in a thousand.
She hadn't certainly expected…. Well, this.
"There is…" Anabel swallowed again, gathering her words, "There are no such intentions in my mind. I simply treated Ash in the same manner the Tower treats all challengers, nothing better or worse."
The Ninetales kept staring at her with an inscrutable expression on her face. Then you have nothing to worry about, I should say.
Anabel kept a straight face. It would not do to demonstrate weakness before this… this… creature. Much to her solace, the dense fog seemed to slowly evaporate away, as her own awareness registered the world around her, just as she remembered it. The Ninetales in question, had folded her tails back into her regal posture, and if Anabel was correct, then the entire transaction had passed in no time.
I have never seen Crimson Red Vermillion manifested like that. A single tail… yes, but all nine? No way that just a Ninetales.
Anabel gave a sideward glance at Ash. The boy certainly did attract the incomprehensible and the interesting.
What are you, Ash Ketchum? She couldn't help but ponder inwardly.
Apparently, the Battle Tower had its own medical experts, and used highly advanced healing potions and equipment for better and most efficient treatment for the wounded pokémon, a privilege only offered to challengers who progressed beyond the second tier. That certainly explained how the more wounded members of his team, namely Crawdaunt, Rhydon, Gengar and Metagross, who would have, under ordinary Medicare facilities, shouldn't have been healed before twenty four hours at minimum, were returned to an understandably frantic Ash Ketchum by eight in the evening, after which the clearly exhausted trainer had sought residence at the Pokémon Center adjacent to the building, for the rest of the night.
That was not all.
He had, checked up his trainer profile on the pokedex, if only to see what the hellish experience he had been through had contributed, if at all. So it was a rather surprised Ash Ketchum who had taken a read at the new description that came attached to his profile.
Intermediate Trainer Level 2.
He blinked. Then blinked again.
Intermediate Trainer. Level 2.
Surely he was imagining? An intermediate trainer was someone (he had checked out the finer details on the League open server) was someone who had acquired, a minimum of five badges, and heading for his sixth. They were further described as Level 1 to 3, depending upon whether they had six, seven or eight badges respectively. For him to be determined as a Level 2 simply meant that his ability as a trainer was at the same level as the average trainer who had attained seven badges in his first conference event, hardly a minor feat for someone with less than four months of active life as a trainer.
And even then that was not all.
Ash stared at the tiny contraption he had gotten at the reception, when he had been asked to put his signature on some documents, verifying the conclusion of his use of the facilities of the tower, and some more regarding the treatment of his pokémon by the Tower medics. Apparently, a challenger was awarded a certain number of battle points, after a comprehensive analysis of his battle style, choice of pokémon, mode of combat, skill and knowledge of pokémon abilities, and his own decision making. The battle points were accumulated together and depending upon the final value, the Battle Tower would provide the challenger with a certain item, which could be something simple like a single ultraball to something super rare like a Dusk stone.
He opened the contraption once again, still not believing what he was seeing. There, inside the contraption, sat four spheroids, each having the top-half painted with a light pink shade and the bottom with a forest-green color. In the middle, was the medical + symbol on the release button, giving away the identity of the four items he was staring at.
Heal balls.
Unlike pokeballs or its other variants, Heal balls weren't registered to any particular trainer. Instead, the function of a Heal ball was to take in an injured pokémon and heal its superficial injuries, and raise its power levels to the maximum, given enough time, which was usually around five hours for an extremely injured pokémon. Deeper lacerations and injuries were out of the Heal ball's ability to rejuvenate, though the better levels of stasis through suspended animation did keep the pokémon free from its pains until proper treatment could be meted out to it at Pokémon centers. Also, unlike the pokeball or its variants, a Heal ball wasn't limited to capturing or holding a single pokémon, and instead served as a healing device for all pokémon out there, both captured and the wild kind. For someone like Ash, the four heal balls were a Godsend.
I believe you have been staring at them on and off for the last hour.
Ash chuckled mirthlessly, having caught red-handed by Aoi, who was casually draped on the couch beside the fireplace. It was quite late, and all of his pokémon were resting inside their respective pokeballs, with the exception of Metagross, who for some reason, seemed adamant on being out in the open, his large iron appendages covering an area larger than the four-poster bed Ash had to himself.
"Just staring at the results of this endeavour." He answered after a moment. "The day had taken a long toll, and the results go on to prove what a horrible trainer I am."
You are not a horrible trainer, Ash.
"You are biased," Ash replied, "so your vote doesn't count."
Personally, Aoi could swear that each and every one of the team, with the exception of the murderous soul-less ghost and the vengeful tree of course—would have contradicted with Ash's statement. In fact, the brain-waves emanating from the steel behemoth to her right merely confirmed her position on that statement. Of course, for some reason, the steel behemoth simply remained silent and silent, pretending he was asleep.
Aoi had no issues with pretending she thought him asleep as well.
Maybe… the Ninetales purred. But the fact remains. The change in your trainer stature proves your worth. Isn't that what the Battle Tower was about?
Ash opened his mouth, but then looked away, staring back at the heal balls in silence. "It was, and yet, it wasn't. I…. I want to be a better trainer, not a better winner. Sure, my victory demonstrates my progress, but what good is that progress if it all ends up with my team blowing themselves up, just to acquire me some measly bit of satisfaction that I am better than my opponent?"
Isn't that the purpose of a battle? Either one of the battlers has to get hurt.
"Yes, through a battle of attrition, and using tactics. Not through suicide." Ash retorted.
Then you must be enraged at the shadow for choosing to do the same?
"Of course I am. How can you even ask me that? I want them to win using strength and tactics. I want to win because I myself made the better decisions than my opponent, because my pokémon and I connect better than my opponents do." He paused. "Gengar… using that explosion to win me a victory… got me defeated instead."
Aoi arched an eyebrow. Has it occurred to you that Explosion is also… counted as a way of attack?
Ash gave her a defiant stare. "Has it occurred to you that the Team Rocket grunts… are also pokémon trainers? Should I throw away my ideals because someone else does?"
If you wish to achieve victory, you need to take tougher decisions, Ash Ketchum.
"Not by that. No. I'd rather suffer defeat than have my team suffer to get me a win."
You are unbearably naïve, Ash Ketchum. Aoi thought inwardly. However, that doesn't make your words any less true either.
"I need to get better." Ash went on, speaking more to himself than to Aoi. "I need to get better at analysing movements, attack patterns, abilities and loopholes. If only I had been a little better, then things wouldn't have turned out the way they should have been."
And then there is the baby to consider.
"His name is Shelgon." Ash refuted automatically.
Aoi rolled her eyes. For one thing, Shelgon was the name of that particular stage for that draconic species, a generic term used to address them. Obviously, Shelgon wasn't fully-evolved, and as such, wouldn't really receive the wisdom to know and comprehend his own true name yet. As such, calling him a baby was completely fine, considering how… irrational he was being. Surely the big baby didn't expect his trainer to choose him over the better and more competent pokémon for an event of such profound significance?
After taking up residence at the pokémon center for the night, Ash had released Shelgon to talk about the events of the day, in a half-hearted attempt to try explain his reasoning, and just how diabolical the opponents at the Tower were. Ash had even apologised, repeating the fact that he had been in a situation when he had to choose between his personal preferences, his emotions, and rationality. The other pokémon had an extra advantage compared to Shelgon, and that was why he had chosen them. Nothing else.
Shelgon had patiently listened to everything before slowly moving ahead, and letting himself sucked into the pokeball once again, something that hadn't gone well, at all, with his trainer.
Aoi cast a sideward glance at Ash, who was doing his best trying to fool everyone that he was fine, and not completely rudderless, now that his starter was not even communicating with him properly. An endearing fool, but a fool nevertheless.
Like trainer, like pokémon. She decided.
She caught some agitation coming out of the steel behemoth, and decided it was time.
Ash?
Said trainer looked at her, or more specifically, at her glowing crimson eyes. "Yes?"
I think you should sleep. It's been a long day.
The sudden yawn that erupted out of him made him feel surprisingly agreeable to her suggestion. "I suppose you are right. We'll… talk tomorrow." He kept the box with the heal balls on the table, before getting himself on to the bed, pulling the covers off himself.
"... Night."
Another pair of crimson eyes glowed ominously in the darkness immediately after.
Aoi watched her lovable, if somewhat oblivious trainer go to sleep, without a care in the world. She didn't really want to manipulate his psyche like that, but with the amount of conflicting emotions in his head, there was little to no chance of him getting some shut eye. After all, they would continue their journey tomorrow morning, and Aoi certainly didn't want her trainer at anything but his peak form.
The things I have to do….
Aoi let out a sigh, before turning towards the steel type, before sending a mental message. You can stop pretending, you know. It is not like our trainer can sense the inner workings of a psychic's mind.
Metagross's eyes opened instantaneously, his dark crimson eyes glowing in the darkness, as he stared at Aoi with undivided attention.
I witnessed you call Distortion into reality. Came the direct statement, in an inexcusably accusing tone.
Aoi sighed. Yes, and I pretended that you didn't witness it. Does that make us even?
The complete silence that followed, even between the two psychics, was more than adequate to answer her question.
… I don't trust you.
Aoi rolled her eyes. You shouldn't. My bond is with my master and trainer. Not with you.
… Trainer Ash seems to trust you.
Why do you call him trainer? Aoi asked out of random, throwing Metagross out of the loop.
Stop evading my question.
Aoi sighed. Yes, he does. A rather oblivious and childish aspect to his personality, though of course, no less lovable.
That doesn't give me the assurance that you won't use him for your own purposes.
I could accuse you of the same, you know. Aoi threw back.
Metagross looked antagonistic. My trainer has my complete loyalty.
I thought that the iron-legs owe their complete loyalty to all that is iron-legs. Aoi shot back, knowing very well that it wasn't untrue.
Metagross seemed silent for a moment, as Aoi felt her chances for ending the topic rise. Then, the steel type answered back.
Your attempt at enraging me in hopes of digressing away, won't work.
Well… it was worth a try anyway.
Isn't that a pity? She drawled sarcastically.
It is rather easy to get around his defenses if he trusts you. Metagross began.
Speaking from experience?
Surprisingly, or not, he didn't rise to that particular taunt.
The Ninetales let out a verbal laugh. But I agree. He is rather easy to decipher, if one knows him well enough.
Like you? Metagross accused.
Like me. Aoi didn't even bat an eyelash at that statement. Nevertheless, our trainer has nothing to fear from me. He has done me no wrong. I wish as much harm on him as he does me.
You are not… normal. Metagross accused. Your awareness feels like one of us, and yet you wield that which defiles us. I cannot comprehend the details of your existence.
Some questions aren't to be answered, merely to behold. Aoi returned saucily.
Or simply monstrous and hidden beneath a veneer of civility. The steel-type taunted.
Aoi didn't bother to reply back.
Trainer Ash… The Metagross began, has the proclivity to gather the incomprehensible and the broken around him, and it happens way too much for my liking. The Gods did not recognize his potential, and now… a wielder of the Void does so. He paused, staring at the Ninetales squarely in the eye. I will not permit the Void to drag my trainer into its corruption.
Personally, Aoi couldn't help but feel that should He feel like, He would do the very same, if only out of a whim to annoy the steel behemoth. The Fallen was thrown into the Void eons ago, and he rose up to become its true wielder. Truth be told, Aoi didn't know anyone stronger than him in all of existence.
He was an immortal. He got bored. It happens.
Feel free to do what you wish. I am not your nemesis, nor am I intending to cause any harm on my… our trainer. As for our mutual existences, do not steer into mine, and I will not steer into your own.
That was about as subtle as a sledgehammer, Aoi mused. Nevertheless, a sledgehammer was also a tool for some reason. Then again, a physical hunk like Metagross would perhaps appreciate the comparison better than say… the psi pokémon.
Metagross, it seemed, didn't care about the threat, no more than he cared about the fact that he had just declared himself antagonistic to someone clearly affiliated with the fallen. You do not battle for my trainer, and yet you accompany him at all times. What is it that you crave from his constant presence?
Aoi sighed. She would have called the steel type a rock-head, but then again, that position was taken by someone else on the team anyway, so she supposed she would have to stick with steel-head instead. Can a girl not be simply possessive of her master?
You? Metagross drawled.
The Ninetales let out another laugh, before she looked away. I do not feel it necessary to answer your question, as it is none of your business.
It is my business if it involves my trainer. Metagross replied, his tone still persistent, not at all missing the slight glow in her tails. A not so subtle demonstration of power. Alien, horrifyingly powerful, unprecedented power.
A pair of thin crimson eyes cast a sideward glance at him. I have spent centuries, trapped inside the twisted ruins of my own curse, surrounded by raw otherworldly energies trying to corrupt me, and the infinite Distortion ensnaring my senses. Some like you, pseudo-legendary or not, will not break my resolve.
She stretched her legs, her nine tails creating a rather comfortable position for her to rest, as she coiled herself into the couch. For some reason, she didn't think she would get some shut eye if she tried to advance into her trainer's bed for the night. Not with the surprisingly persistent steel type being out in the room anyway.
The next morning, a somewhat flustered Ash found himself standing in front of a humongous gate made of wrought iron, looking beyond at the apparently ancient conurbation everyone knew as Lavender Town. Despite being on the periphery of two famous cities, namely Cerulean and Saffron, the jaded region of Lavender Town stood like an oddball, a region lost in time, with its stone-walls, cobbled streets, and tall, pointy rooftops, and an everlasting stench of desolation all around. For the more sensitive population, the town smelled alien, with an odd… sensation in the air, the sudden chills on turning through a sharp corner, and the strangeness of the shadows.
A miniature biosphere for the ghost kind, and those who revelled in their presence.
And in the dead center of it all, a massive stone mansion, with seven towers spiralling out of it from the periphery, each having a large stone gargoyle carved out of single monoliths, and a large Haunter sculpted on the pointed top of the main roof, with its malicious eyes looking way too alive than it had any right to be. The home of the Ainsworth family, one of the oldest and most notorious families in Kanto.
The Ghost Tower.
If you are done gawking, could you please let me back into my pokeball? I'd rather not stay around in such a deluding and mentally-repressive environment.
Ash arched an eyebrow at Alakazam's demand. For some reason, his usual tone seemed to be overflowing with derision and outright scorn. On second thought, he shouldn't really be surprised considering where he was standing. Someone as sensitive as the psi was surely feeling the stench of the ghost-types in the very air all around them.
He hadn't wanted to delay his journey any longer, and had asked the psi, earlier in the morning, to teleport him all the way to the Ghost Tower of Lavender Town. Alakazam had, in his own colourful way, described how his services weren't available everywhere and that the maximum distance he would take him would be the outer gates of the Town, and not an inch ahead. Ash had agreed to the counter offer, content in whatever he got from it.
"Yeah, I'll just do that." He mumbled, raising his pokeball, returning the psi into the silent and considerably preferable confines of the device. He put it back into his poke-belt, before plucking out two other pokeballs, as he released the entities within them. In a matter of seconds, Aoi and Gengar manifested in front of him, the former letting out a long, enthusiastic yawn, stretching her limbs and neck out, while the latter giving out her usual grin, before said grin evaporated almost instantly, as the shadow pokémon realized where it was, that she was standing.
"Gen—Gar?" She asked.
"Yeah," Ash answered, not needing to ask Aoi to translate for him. "We are in Lavender Town."
An inscrutable expression flickered on Gengar's face for a moment, before she gazed back at Ash, giving him another one of her grins.
Her trainer frowned. "Do you… not want to be here?" He paused, wondering if he had read her wrong from the very start. "I thought you'd have liked to come back over here."
Gengar just grinned back, before levitating herself a foot into the air, before indicating towards the direction of the Ghost Tower.
"You want to go there, right?" Ash asked, trying to confirm it.
"Gengar!" The shadow pokémon slowly drifted towards the Tower, as Ash began to walk loosely behind.
Ash glanced back at Ninetales, who looked like she thought it was too early to deal with stuff like that.
The shadow's perspective of relationships is warped. You won't comprehend them no matter how much you try.
Ash shook his head, knowing fully well that he inwardly agreed with the golden Ninetales, who walked into the town, right behind him.
Ash and Aoi trotted through the cobbled streets of the ancient town, with a levitating Gengar in front of him leading the way, not that they needed it, considering that the Ghost Tower was easily the largest and tallest building in all of Lavender Town, and with the entire housing built in the forms of squares, the way was easily identifiable. The more they walked, the more it became obvious to Ash why Scott, the man he had met back on that island, had told him that the Forest of Illusions was similar to Lavender Town, only much more deadly. So far, he had already spotted several ghost types- most of them being the usual Gastly, and the less commonly found Duskull and Misdreavus levitating, often in presence of people—whom Ash ascertained were their trainers, or simply basking in the shadows.
Truly this town was an ecological niche for the ghost-kind.
After walking for another half an hour, he found himself standing in front of another humongous gate, carved out of wrought iron, obstructing his path into the giant mansion that lay beyond it. For some reason, Gengar had stopped a few inches away from the gate, staring at the great mansion that had once been her own home.
"Is there a problem?" Ash asked, looking at Gengar, whose large, convex eyes seemed transfixed on the wrought iron barrier separating them from the mansion.
Gengar didn't reply back.
Unsure about what it meant, Ash took a step forward, as his fingers came inches close to the slightly rusted surfaces, before a sharp, high-pitched voice stopped him in his tracks.
"The Ghost Tower doesn't accommodate trespassers very well."
It was a girl, a little girl that looked around ten, with jet black, braided hair, with two twin tails on either side, dressed in white. She wore a red brooch like ornament on her neck, Ash observed, as the girl approached him from the inside.
"Who are you?" Came the direct, no-nonsense question.
"I'm… Ash. Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town."
"How can the Tower waste its time on you?" Came the derisive question, dripping with condescension.
Aoi narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Ash on the other hand, seemed irritated at her behaviour.
"I'm here to meet the Elite Four Agatha. Professor Samuel Oak has sent me here."
Apparently, the little girl recognized the name, judging by her now squinted eyes. "You seem to be telling the truth, so I will let you pass."
"Thank you." Ash tried as hard as possible not to scoff.
He took a step forward, as his fingers-
"Wait!" the girl screeched.
Oh what now? Ash looked back at the little annoyance with expectation.
"Only humans and ghosts are allowed in." The girl replied in a half-mocking tone. "It's Lady Agatha's command." She paused for a moment. "Though… pokémon that are immune to the effects of the ghostly energy are also allowed in, unless they are the dark ones."
"Why?"
The girl's lips twisted. "The ambience here is too dangerous for them."
Almost automatically, Ash turned towards Aoi.
You know better than having to ask that question. I spent eons in presence of ghosts. The ambience does not affect me.
Ash considered it. To his knowledge, only the normal-types were immune to ghosts, and that narrowed his team to just Pidgeot. However, there was no point in keeping Pidgeot trapped inside her pokeball when she could spread her wings and fly in the open should she be at the Ranch. Making a quick decision, he switched on the Xtransceiver.
The steps to the mansion were roughly a quarter mile away from the main gates. Ash had sent back all of his pokémon, save Aoi and the ghosts, which effectively meant only Gengar, since neither of the other two could be trusted at this point. Gengar still levitated in front of him, though she was slightly subdued for some reason, while Aoi seemed to unconsciously stick closer to Ash, her golden fur rubbing against his jeans, as the two walked up to the doors above the steps. The little annoyance had deserted them at the gates, sprinting away in another direction, possibly to harass somebody else for all he knew.
On closer look, even the architecture looked dated. There was an old fashioned metal chain hanging from the left, which apparently functioned as the door bell, considering the rather loud sound that reverberated as soon as Ash pulled it downwards.
Five seconds passed by. No one answered.
Ten seconds.
Still no one answered.
Fifteen. Ash raised his hand to pull the chain a second time, when the door hissed open, as he found himself looking at the familiar face of the revenant crone of Kanto—the Ghost Mistress of the Elite Four.
"Elite Four Agatha." He croaked.
"It is Agatha and nothing else." The old woman replied, her sharp eyes jumping from Ash to the floating shadow pokémon beside him. For some reason, the shadow pokémon felt extremely familiar, and judging by the manner it was shying its eyes away, Agatha knew that it was not a coincidence. She knew this Gengar. It was only a time before her memories spotted it out.
"My name is Ash. I-"
"Ash Ketchum from Pallet Town. I have heard quite many mentions of your name." Agatha replied in a half-sardonic tone. "Then again, they are not... undeserved."
Ash felt a tinge of embarrassment. He had certainly not expected to be remembered by an Elite Four for one. "Professor Oak sent me here." He replied, oblivious to her inner thoughts. "I need some aid with a certain ghost pokémon and he suggested you."
"So, the legendary Oak has finally gotten his hands on something to bother remembering me. I will see what I can-" She stopped midway, as it suddenly hit her. The reason why this Gengar looked so, so very familiar, and why it—she was behaving so… conspicuously in her presence. It took a moment, but her eyes widened, and her hold on her walking staff tightened almost instantly.
Then, she turned towards Ash, almost as if it pained her to leave the Gengar out of her direct sight.
"I must ask, young man… just where and how did you gain the acquaintance of my father's pokémon?"
Meanwhile in Fuchsia.
"He challenged the Battle Tower?" Steven stared at Cynthia's frame, his expression one of incomprehension. "Why would anyone in the right mind-?"
"This is Ash." Cynthia returned, her face twisted in a frown, as she regarded Steven's face on the other end of the Pokenav. "You should know by now how thin the line is between irrationality and dedication when it comes to him?"
Steven sighed. "And pray tell, who was it that put this brilliant idea into his brain?"
Cynthia gave him a meaningful look. "Samuel Oak."
Oh.
…
OH.
"I presume you have seen the results?" Cynthia asked. "He didn't call me last night, so I assumed things didn't exactly go all flowery."
"Always the optimistic one, aren't you? " Steven returned derisively.
"What can I say? Your Champion won't leave him be on his own." Cynthia retorted dryly.
"Possessive…" The silver-haired man drawled.
"Shut up. Care to tell me what the results are?"
Steven sighed. "And here I thought I held a position of respect." He paused. "Hang on a moment. Let me check." He lifted up the laptop screen, accessing the league database. Any and all contributions from the Battle Tower were recorded in the League database within twenty minutes after said event had concluded. "Let's see… Ash Ketchum. Inter-" He paused, before rereading it again.
"What is it?" Cynthia asked impatiently, not for the first time hating the fact that she didn't have access to the Indigo league database.
"Intermediate trainer. Level 2."
"Come again."
"Intermediate trainer. Level 2." Steven replied, still surprised. "Damn. The kid must have improved by leaps and bounds if this is his present evaluation."
"He's not a kid." Cynthia returned stubbornly.
"Right. Boyfriend and everything. I totally understand."
"It's not just that." Despite what it might appear, Cynthia was certainly not blushing. "He's been through too much to be one."
"And just like that, you had to deflate the mood." The former Champion complained. "But I agree."
"Intermediate trainer, level is that? Six badges?"
"Seven." Steven corrected. "Considering he still has five gym badges to acquire, he should be facing hellish difficulty defeating the gym leaders."
"All the better." The Sinnoh champion retorted. "He needs all the experience he can get."
"I'm almost surprised you didn't join him on his journey."
Cynthia flipped her hair. "Champion here, remember?"
"Yes, yes. Remind me of my shortcomings again, why don't you." Steven complained.
"Stop being a baby." Cynthia chided. "If you want it back that much, go and challenge the Kanto Elite Four. Or better, go defeat Wallace at home."
Steven whistled. "Nah... Hoenn is the silent type. Kanto is much more exciting at the moment. And you know I'd stand no chance against Agatha."
It was the unspoken truth about the Kanto Elite. Lance had ruled Kanto unchallenged for over a decade because of one single reason only.
Nobody ever got a victory out of Agatha, the last stand of the Elite Four. And unless you beat the Elite Four, you didn't get a chance to battle Lance Wataru. There was a reason after all, why Lance always deferred to Agatha when she had an opinion to state, though such a situation was a rarity.
Cynthia didn't comment on that. Instead she returned to their original point of discussion. "If Ash is already that good, then I can only imagine his progress by the time the Indigo Conference is over. I cannot wait to get him here, and-"
"Have your wicked way with him?" Steven wagged his eyebrows suggestively.
"Pervert." Cynthia muttered. "I intend to take him in as an official apprentice after that. He'll be the one that defeats me and take my place as Champion."
"I'm surprised you haven't started picking names for your future offspring as well."
"Shut up."
Back in Lavender Town.
"Your father's… pokémon?" Ash swallowed, trying to digest what he had just learnt. "Your father…"
"Ethan Ainsworth." Agatha pronounced. "My father set sail off the coast of Cerulean… and then never came home again. We thought something… might sinister might have befallen him, but there was no news."
Ash was sitting in the main hall, on a rather old-fashioned wooden couch, opposite the fire place, with Agatha sitting on a wooden rocking chair, her face getting illuminated on and off from the light of the fireplace. Despite it still being morning, the amount of sunlight entering into the mansion was feeble at best.
"I heard about what happened to him from a man back there, on the island, though it seems more like a fictitious incident than what might really have happened. I…" he paused, unsure how to put it, "I have never really questioned Gengar in that particular subject."
He cast a sideways glance at the door. After entering through the main door with Agatha, Gengar had dissipated inside the shadows lining the corridors, while he had followed Agatha into the hall, where they were sitting now. He hadn't seen Gengar reappear back ever since.
"Don't bother. I already know what happened to my father. My brothers and sisters have already questioned her for details. They are, after all, her own kin. The Ghost Tower is not just home to Gengar's first master, but also home for her own kin."
Ash didn't know what he should feel about that. Nevertheless, the odd suffocating feeling in the back of his throat wasn't something he enjoyed. At least Aoi… he glanced at the Ninetales who lay draped over his lap, her eyes closed, though Ash could tell that she was paying absolute attention to every single word of the ongoing conversation. He wasn't the most intelligent being out there, but he was less oblivious than people assumed him to be.
"I… understand." He tried.
"You don't." Agatha accused sharply, staring at him with her sharp hawk-like eyes. On closer look, one of her eyes seemed dead, cold—a prosthetic at best to maintain her facial outlook. Her face softened soon after. "And for your own good, I hope you never do."
Ash didn't know what to make of that statement.
"Will… Gengar?" Ash felt the words die down his throat. He didn't want to acknowledge it, not after everything he had been through. Not after… "Will Gengar… stay here?"
Agatha shrugged. "It is not my decision. It is hers." She stared at him with a curious expression. "Surely you do not want to lose a powerful pokémon? Gengar are the apex of ghost types out there."
"There are many ghost types, and should I want it, I can always defeat and capture another Gastly or Haunter. Gengar's decision to stay here has nothing to do with my own betterment as a trainer."
Agatha arched an eyebrow. "You are allowing her to take her own choice?"
Ash shrugged, despite not wanting to do so. It hurt to accept it, but that made it no less true. "Gengar joined me on her own accord. I will not stop her should she… decide to leave."
"Because you can always catch another Gastly?" Agatha taunted.
"Because she has her own choices, and I respect that." Ash answered, his voice slightly edgy.
"Interesting." The old crone pushed back into her chair. "You are an unusual trainer, Ash Ketchum."
The teen didn't understand if he had just been complimented or insulted.
"It was a compliment." Agatha replied, as if reading his mind. "Most trainers are more… shall we say, pragmatic about pokémon?"
"Pragmatic?"
"They consider them as tools, and… pets, if you want a better term. Those which they can easily trade when a better opportunity comes walking."
"My team is my family. I do not trade family."
A cruel, sinister look flickered on the old woman's face. "Interesting. Very interesting." She reclined back again. "So tell me, Ash Ketchum of Pallet Town… what can Agatha Ainsworth do for you?"
To the point then. Ash decided. "As I mentioned… I encountered Gengar in the forest of Illusions back in the Mirage archipelago. I… also encountered a Team Rocket Executive over there, who had come in with a huge team of Umbreon, and some more… powerful pokémon to capture the ghosts of the forest."
The chair stopped rocking.
"Initially, my Absol was battling Gengar with my life at the table. Then, the Rockets attacked with hordes of Umbreon. I…. well, my team and I tried our best to fight back against the Rocket executive and the grunts. Gengar, and the other ghosts also battled them."
The old crone arched an eyebrow again. "Wouldn't it have been better to take advantage of the situation and escape the forest?" She paused, staring at Ash, as if judging him. "An enemy of my enemy is my friend, after all."
Ash considered her words. "The forest belonged to the ghosts. I was told about them in advance, about how it is their territory. Getting my life at risk was a given. That doesn't make the ghosts my enemy."
Agatha continued to stare.
"Anyway," Ash went on speaking, looking anywhere but at her. "The Executive had a Magmortar and a Dusclops. During the battle… the Magmortar died."
"You ordered your pokémon to kill it?"
"No!" Ash retorted defensively. "Instead, it would have killed us all—me, my team, the ghosts, everyone had it succeeded in what it was doing. It was only because Alakazam reflected the entire thing back on him that he—well, he died."
"I see." The ghost mistress replied slowly. Truth be told, she had already gotten the complete experience of what might have permeated within the forest back then. However, she simply wanted to see how this… unusual young man's thought process was like, especially considering that he was currently holding the allegiance of her father's starter, not a minor feat by any standards.
"Gengar and the two Haunter were about to kill the Dusclops too, so I… captured it before that could happen. The Executive was gone before that happened."
Indeed he had done that. Agatha knew it well. All the while being under the curse of a powerful ghost, a condition that would have sucked the life out of him in the next couple of minutes, Ash Ketchum had decided that saving the life of the other ghost was a matter of higher priority.
"And?"
"Well… the Dusclops… she's strange."
"Most ghosts are." Agatha scoffed. "To those who cannot comprehend them anyway."
"Not that." Ash countered. "She's… she follows my commands—formal commands anyway. And yet, well, she's got this… murderous streak in her. Nearly killed my Mag- Charmeleon when I put them for a mock battle. She doesn't talk or do anything, just stands still, and always looking forward to-"
"Murder someone." Agatha finished for him. "Release that ghost here."
"Excuse me?" Ash narrowed his eyes.
"Release her here." Agatha repeated without delay. "I wish to see this… mockery, with my own eyes."
"Uh… sure." There was no way he'd know better than the greatest Ghost Mistress of the era after all. Without delay, he pulled out the ultra-ball that held the murderous beacon pokémon inside it, releasing her out in the open.
"Clops!" the beacon pokémon drawled smoothly, her tone way too calming, a rather contradictory thing considering her behaviour. Not for the first time, Ash registered just how larger the Dusclops was, compared to the normal size. Dusclops in general, were quite large, larger than a Gengar, and their evolved counterpart Dusknoir were much larger, getting a height post eight feet. This Dusclops though, was already a little more than six feet. It was only a point of wonder just how massive she would be post-evolution.
Almost immediately, dense fumes emerged out from the floor, or more precisely, from Agatha's shadow, reforming into a Gengar, larger than anything Ash had ever set sight on. It was easily six feet in height, its eyes and its infamous grin giving off an ominous feel, even though the Gengar wasn't even staring at Ash in the first place. He shuddered, feeling the sudden fall in temperature as Gengar slowly levitated right in front of Dusclops.
And then shit hit the fan.
Two shadowy projections of her hands shot out from Dusclops's body, gripping the Gengar, banishing him into the wall on the opposite side, pinning him there, as Dusclops slowly rose in the air towards her prey. Almost instinctively, Ash began to rise up to take action, if not for the hand gesture from Agatha, asking him to relax, telling him that everything was under control. Despite his own hesitation, he pushed himself back into the chair.
Aoi didn't even move during the entire interaction.
Dusclops pressed herself against the Gengar, her monochromatic eye glowing menacingly. Despite his distance, Ash had an unsavoury feeling that he could hear Dusclops breathing heavily. He decided he didn't like the sensation that accompanied it.
And then she opened her mouth, lifting the top part of the mummified carapace that was its body armour, coming closer and closer to Gengar.
Ash felt his knuckles turn white. It was almost nostalgic, only he had seen Magnus instead of Gengar back then. Please…. He glanced at Agatha's look of complete apathy. Please do something.
And then everything changed.
Gengar suddenly dispersed itself into dense fumes, before completely enveloping Dusclops completely, a part of said fumes even pouring down into Dusclops's oral cavity. Then, the fumes began to glow with a sinistrous purple color.
And then, Dusclops screamed.
Agatha silently stared at the murderous ghost wishing to prey upon her brother. Of course, there was nothing to worry about it in the first place. Living with ghosts made one jaded towards such things. After all, in their primal forms, a ghost was a true and utter psychopath, revelling in the fear and pain of the others. The level of ruthlessness she had seen ghosts display in her long life was more than enough for dark types to burn with envy. However, that didn't mean she was completely unfazed by the murderous specimen that the kid—that Ash Ketchum had presented before her.
Dusclops. A ghost that was, in true sense of the term, a conceptualization of nothingness. There was nothing, absolutely nothing inside the ghost, and yet it was not Distortion and yet not vacuum. Ghosts weren't the souls of the dead as most people believed, and were mostly, a form of interdimensional travellers, composed nearly entirely of Chaos. While Agatha couldn't boast herself as more knowledgeable about ghost-kind than themselves, she was definitely someone on the immediate next rank. According to her not-so-humble opinion, a Dusclops was merely a container of nothingness, given sentience through the wild energies of Chaos. Being born in a world with only traces of chaos energy, a Duskull was reduced into a lowly poltergeist of sorts, taking amusement and nourishment out of human fear. After its evolution into a Dusclops, that amusement reshaped itself into an ever-lasting hunger, though more than often than not, a Dusclops was able to tame on this… primal form of itself, rendering itself somewhat tameable, and used as a pokémon for pointless battling.
This Dusclops however, was different.
Twisted.
It was almost like someone- possibly a result of nefarious experimentation made by those who didn't know any better, had outright ripped away any and all shreds of self-restraint from Dusclops's constitution, and Agatha got a feeling that it wasn't merely psychic or psychosomatic, but genetic. Someone had raised a Duskull devoid of any self-restraint, and forced evolution on it. The entity that stood floating before her Gengar was not a Dusclops, but a pale shade of it- one that contained the unbridled primal form that was forcibly self-repressed by all ghost-kind, lest the world be consumed in their amusement and greed.
And then people have the gall to speak ill of the otherworldly ones. Agatha mused with a frown.
She considered the murderous entity once again.
She didn't like what was going to happen. But it was necessary.
Her left eye, the one that always stayed dead and unmoving, glimmered before returning back to its usual state, as a single thought flitted through her mind's eye.
Miasma.
Almost instantly, Gengar dissolved into dense fumes, pouring into Dusclops's oral cavity, enveloping the beacon pokémon completely, as its foreign ghostly energy burned Dusclops from the inside and the outside.
Venoshock.
The fumes began to glow with an ominous purple color, as Gengar, still in his half-vapour form, leaked out the deadly poison that was part of its own physical constitution. Though in hindsight, venom would be a better description than poison, since the poison's effects were only amplified when used in combination with raw, undiluted ghostly energy.
End it. Explosion.
Dusclops screamed with mind-boggling agony, as the poisonous ghostly energy seeped into every single part of her form, before she felt a sudden build of pressure within herself.
For the first time in her life, Dusclops knew fear.
Seconds later, a completely silent and horrified Ash Ketchum returned the Dusclops, with half of her body in fumes and the other half, literally unmoving, as the dense purple fumes reformed back into Gengar without so much as a sound.
Gengar grinned.