Chương 83: Chapter 67

Ferrum, is a region of stadiums. We love our stadiums. We revel in them. Billions in Poké Gold is spent every year building them, and tearing them down. We flock to them, admire them, eat in them, spend days and days in them, depart from them, and do really just everything else you possibly could with a massive concrete arena. Galar (a reasonably populous region by my research) has, for their nearly eighty-million citizens, exactly seventeen stadiums, with rumors that they might be working on an eighteenth.

Ten of those are for battling, two are for Ponyta racing, four are for various human ball sports, and one is for martial arts of all things. Here in Ferrum, where we have well under a quarter of that populace (twenty-percent of whom are Pokémon), we have eighty-nine. More than quadruple the stadiums for one fourth of the population. And eighty-six of those nearly ninety stadiums are for Ferrum battles, and Ferrum battles exclusively.

The other three are for concerts, human sports, non-battle Pokémon sports, Cyclizar races, and also Ferrum battles. We have, I'd recently Porysurfed my way into knowing, so many stadiums that, at any given time, nearly one-third of the human population of the region could be watching a live battle in an uncomfortable plastic seat. Of course, the vast majority of those battles would be low-level, unremarkable junior and green league matches, but the point still stood.

And that's just stadiums that are actively in use. Another six are currently Mothimballed, awaiting deconstruction, and twelve more are decommissioned and lie in districts assigned to wild Pokémon. Here in Techne alone, we have a staggering nineteen stadiums. You can't walk more than a kilometer-and-a-half in any direction without passing one of them.

There would be more stadiums than Pokémon Centers in Techne City, were it not for the fact that half of those nineteen had centers attached and housed within their bounds. But of course, not all stadiums are created equally. Some are on the small side, cramped, and indoors, and suited for no more than ten-thousand spectators. Techne's three battle academies all have dedicated stadiums with just enough room for their two-thousand students to attend along with their five hundred faculty members.

And for each of those people to bring a plus one. Nine of the city's arenas can house over fifty-thousand viewers, towering edifices sponsored by various large corporations and conglomerates. Exactly four of these nine are true behemoths. These monstrous complexes can seat over one-hundred thousand human spectators and display more than ten matches simultaneously.

The cheering from these absurdities in concrete form makes it impossible to live and sleep within a kilometer of their radii, and the traffic around them is always so impacted that Cyclizar taxis outright refuse to travel on any roads within five-hundred meters. Today, I was not in one of those obscene monuments to our region's shared obsession. Instead, I found myself in Mechry Stadium, a mid-tier venue that seats a paltry thirty-thousand souls.

The arena lies on the city's southern outskirts, near the coast, and is owned and solely managed by the Mechry family and their affiliates. The arena is by no means tiny, but it's also nowhere near as unreasonably large as some of its compatriots.

It was built just over thirty years ago, with a 'generous' endowment from the Mechry's making up just over half of the budget spent on its construction, and has served the people of Techne faithfully since, displaying all manner of tournament and battle for Techne district three. All of this I knew from helpfully posted placards and large, informational displays hung about the concourse, detailing the site's pedigree and history. But what exactly marks a location as suitable for housing a stadium?

Why did the Mechry's build their stadium here, thirty years ago. This, I knew from my social studies classes at school. The answer, as is so often the case in Ferrum's history, is because of gaia spots. You can't have Ferrum Battles without gaia power, after all. Or rather, you couldn't have until my father's company created the BfG.

Prior to that particular innovation, Ferrum Battles could only occur in places where there was sufficient gaia power, which generally meant a gaia spot nearby, or in places with great synergy stones. Those huge, crystalline lattices acted as conductors and batteries for the power of the earth, converting the mysterious energy into syn useable by both humans and their Pokémon partners.

Technically, either element alone was enough to support Ferrum Battles, but the thing that set stadiums apart was that they always have both. A gaia spot, and a great synergy stone. These two elements together allow competitors to go at it at their best. A great synergy stone alone can supply the power necessary for Ferrum Battles for a time, but it will inevitably run out of energy and go inert if not allowed to recharge, limiting the number of battles that can be conducted throughout a day.

Similarly, smaller synergy stones can be used in conjunction with gaia spots without a great synergy stone present, but doing so limits the connection between human and partner, decreasing the amount of power that can flow between them. Obviously, competitors preferred duking it out in stadiums where both are available whenever possible. Or they had, until the BfG had come along and upended the script.

I'd familiarized myself rather intensely with the devices after learning how dangerous they were, and what I'd discovered was frankly terrifying. Each BfG (and by extension, the PSS's based off of them) contains a fist-sized synergy stone cut in such a way that it actively draws gaia power in from the surrounding environment. Usually, synergy stones and great synergy stones restore their power gradually, soaking in Ferrum's abundant environmental energy.

If they're on a gaia spot, they'll recharge instantly, refreshed constantly by the influx of the earth's power. The stones mined and cut by RealTech, on the other hand, suck in energy like a vacuum, pulling in a constant vortex to ensure they have enough power to function. Supposedly, studies had been conducted on the long-term environmental ramifications of this technology, and no anticipated issues with their use had been found. In my mind, that claim beggared belief.

And I wasn't the only one to think so, judging by the ongoing protests wracking the region and the recall on the original BfG product. But while the original BfGs were off the market, plenty of people still owned one, and PSS's were still getting handed out to sub-contractors and government agencies alike. And that wasn't to mention the copy-cats and knock-offs that were starting to crop up, copying the technology, except with even fewer safeguards in place. And I knew something that the general public didn't.

Because– as I'd learned recently– synergy stones are receptacles and stores not just for the power of the earth, but also for the feelings and emotions of the people and Pokémon wielding them. And if the artificial stones at the hearts of portable battling devices are changed in such a way as to more readily absorb the earth's power, how much more responsive are they to the whims and emotions of their holders? That concern kept me up at night, sometimes.

Along with memories of a pustulant orange crystal, and of crimson light draining from sad, compound eyes. Reflexively, my fingers brushed the earring dangling from my right lobe. The stainless steel of the Kalosian wire was warm from contact with my skin, and from the small, crystalline shard attached to it, which was radiating its own tiny heat, as it greedily absorbed the overflowing energy from the stadium's gaia spot.

I'd considered throwing the piece of jewelry away after my near-disaster in Kanto, but barring unexpected inter-regional teleportation, there probably wouldn't be any problems with holding onto it. Tons of people wore jewelry with synergy stones in them without having any issues, and something about disposing of the stone felt wrong. Like throwing away someone's last gift to you.

A gentle paw on my left cheek broke me out of my reverie, and I turned my head to find the maus on my shoulder (the one I'd taken to calling 'Nidoqueen' in my head) pointing at a nearby concession stand. It was a bit embarrassing, getting so distracted when I was so proficient in multi-tasking, but in my defense, my mind was rather preoccupied right now.

"Right, sorry, we were getting food," I forced a chuckle as I lined up.

"Let's get some lunch in us, and talk this out." - Clear. Clear. Clear. Clear.

"So, if I were a Pokécidal stalker who could turn invisible at will and make people see illusions, and I was out to get Alyssa and her Pikachu, where would I be?" Predictably, none of my partners had an easy answer to that question. And only half because they were distracted by the food they were carrying. Clear. Clear. Clear. Clear. The issue was just how many options a potential assailant had available.

They could arrange all manner of accidents in and around the stadium, from vehicular danger, to falling light fixtures. And that wasn't including the possibility of them losing patience and taking more direct action. But Mr. Gima was playing defense today, sticking close to Alyssa after my warning, utilizing his similar ability to go wherever he pleased unnoticed to ensure that my best friend always had an unseen protector. Clear. Clear. Clear. Clear.

Which meant today, I needed to be the one on the offensive, sniffing out our foe before they had a chance to set up whatever mayhem they intended. My tools for doing so? My sharp wit, the ability to order random patches of air to reveal their secrets to me, and the dozens of threads of attention I had running, parsing the crowd on autopilot for anything unusual or out of place. Clear. Clear. Clear. Clear.

I buried another groan in a bite of sausage, watching the sheer volume of people strolling through the crowded concourse. It was intermission right now, which meant almost everyone was up and out of their seats, intent on getting food and using the restroom before the next battle started. The sheer number of humans and Pokémon moving about was straining even my ability to pay attention, even with the stadium only at half-capacity. And that wasn't even to mention the feeling of tension suffusing the arena.

There was a forced jovialness in the atmosphere, a fragile peace, that everyone seemed desperate to maintain. It was even more noticeable now, after our brief stint on foreign soil. The pervasive sense that something was wrong, suffusing the entire stadium and, really, Ferrum as a whole. Blaring televisions hung from the ceiling.

Usually they displayed the ongoing matches for anyone who had to step away from the stands for a moment, but with the break on right now, they were instead plastered with advertisements and news broadcasts. The former got plenty of attention, while almost everyone fastidiously disregarded the latter. My knights walked besides me, ignoring the looks they got while they happily slurped away on some concentrated protein packs.

Maushold perched nervously on my satchel, the trio munching on a small pile of oran berries and keeping their ears splayed wide for anything amiss. Mana floated us all, attended by a small school of azure fellows and taking the occasional bite out of a ball of dried seaweed, rehydrated by her own conjured water.

"Seriously guys, let's think this through. Say I want to hurt Alyssa, or more likely, Pikachu, but I've tried several times to manufacture accidents to no avail, and my target has wised up and acquired some bodyguards. What's my next step in escalating?" Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. We walked in silence for a few moments, musing over our answers.

"Links, falinks, fafa linlinks," Tristan said solemnly, the rather complicated statement taking me a bit to parse. Something about pieces of varying value. A barked command got my knights out in front of me for a second, Tristan ordering Bers to push Galad away (and almost jostling him into spilling his protein pack) so Percy could get at Lance. While the brief demonstration inspired an abbreviated scuffle between Bers and Galad that I had to put a stop to, it also conveyed Tristan's message quite succinctly.

"If you can't get to the Nidoking, take out some Nidoran?" I confirmed, to which I got a nodded head, and a satisfied slurp.

"So who's the Nidoking, and who are the Nidoran in this case," I mused, sinking into thought once again as we navigated through the crowded concourse. Before I could dwell much deeper on the question, someone called out to me. The part of my brain cataloging all the passerby blared an alarm at me, and I looked up sharply at the unfamiliar girl waving an arm and calling my name as she pushed through the crowd towards me.

She started as my gaze landed on her, and the Beedrill hovering above her head floated down a little, as if instinctively moving to block the girl from my sight. She said something inaudible up to the defensive Bug-type, and then continued elbowing her way through the throng. Something about the young woman tickled a memory, but for the life of me I couldn't place her.

"Fe!" the girl's voice finally grew more discernable as we got closer to one another.

"Oh my Guardians! It really is you. Alyssa was worried about you." The mention of my best friend's name on this stranger's lips made my eyes sharpen further, and I reflexively cleared my throat a couple of times, trying to purge the remaining malaise from yesterday's strain, just in case. We finally got close enough to speak without shouting, and I spoke with just enough volume to be heard over the ambient noise of the crowd, "Well I'm alright. You are…?"

The girl seemed confused at my question, and I took the moment of awkward silence to give her a more thorough lookover. This stranger was tall, almost as tall as Alyssa, which means she had close to a dozen centimeters on me. She was wearing two shirts, one yellow with long sleeves and black stripes and the other all black and advertising a band I wasn't familiar with. Complimenting the ensemble was a belt covered in spiky studs, and a yellow choker worn tight over her neck.

The young woman's face was drawn, showing evidence of the same tension that all Ferrenites wore these days like a shroud. She covered it well, with powder and eyeliner and black lip gloss, but her hair was limp, and her eyes jerky as they flitted about the crowded concourse, as if cataloguing potential threats.

"It's me, Fe! You know, Gretchen?" the girl finally informed me, her voice exasperated.

"Golems, it hasn't even been a year!"

"Gretchen?" I felt my eyes widen as my mind finally squared the vaguely familiar face and the distinctly crooked nose with memories of a girl much shorter and scrawnier.

"You– um, you're taller." I could have done better than that, but again, I was rather distracted. Something about a newscast playing on a nearby television screen was tickling the back of my mind.

"Yeah, I grew. Crazy fucking thing. Then again, I can see why you're not familia–" whatever she was about to say, she slapped a hand over her own mouth, forcibly stopping herself.

"Shit, that's not what I meant to say. Not what I should be saying." the girl took a deep breath, clearly centering herself, "Fe, I'm sorry for what I did to you at the end of the summer. I wasn't in a good place at the time, and I ended up taking that out on you at a time when you really, really didn't–" I held up a hand, "Hold on, hold on. Wait one second."

The girl pulled up short, blinking first in shock, and then in affront, which was fair, since what I'd just done was absurdly rude, but I didn't really feel all that bad about it though.

Firstly because the other teen had only ever been horrible to me and I didn't care much about how she felt, and secondly because alarm bells were blaring in another piece of my mind, synapses firing and uncomfortable connections forming as the newscaster on a television everyone was doing their best to ignore reported on tragic events from yesterday.

A freak, horrendous accident, where a wild Pokémon brought to Techne General for treatment went berserk and killed three staff members, while injuring another half dozen. The Pokémon's rampage was ended by a passing employee of the Frontline Corporation, but before they'd been restrained, they'd exhibited odd symptoms. Rapidly-recovering wounds, wisps of black smoke surrounding them, and flashes of unearthly orange affixed to their form, shining with an odd, inner light. A Shadow Pokémon, as Donna had dubbed them.

A Shadow Pokémon had been the one to injure my mother. The news was calling it an accident, but that didn't make sense to me. I couldn't imagine any hospital would ever admit or try to treat a Pokémon so-afflicted. Not because they wouldn't want to, but because doing so would be impossible. The level of violence, of energy, of horrible strength would preclude any such attempt at treatment. How do you get at a Nidoking when it's covered in layers of protection? You start by removing the other pieces.

I'd thought my mom had been involved in a horrible accident, but what if she'd instead been a casualty not of random happenstance, but of enemy action? I didn't have any conclusive evidence, but the hypothetical made my blood run cold. If Alyssa's stalker knew how to create Shadow Pokémon, and could do so anywhere, anytime, unseen, what would they do next? A memory rose unbidden, of an insectile body, brought low to the earth, only to be reinvigorated by some strange, eldritch strength.

Of my own experiences clutching a corrupted stone, driven to make it a part of my very body. The shadow synergy stone had almost possessed a will of its own. A covetous desire to subsume and consume. It sought energy, drew it in from the environment, and channeled it into its host, so the poor bearer could seek new sources of power and do the same again. And where would a corrupted synergy stone find power, in a Ferrum stadium?

"Gretchen, you said Alyssa was worried about me. Did you come here with her?" The girl bristled at my question, her desire to apologize clearly warring with her irritation at my rudeness and odd behavior.

"Yeah, you weren't around so she gave Bert and I a call and asked us to meet up so we could head over to the stadium together. It's not safe to be on the streets alone these days, y'know?"

"So you've been down in the competitors area," I reasoned.

"We need to go there. Now." The other girl's face twisted up, but before she could respond, she took note of my expression, and actually parsed the command laced in my voice. I wasn't sure what was on my face, but something about it made the already pale teen blanche even further.

"What's going on Fe? Is Alyssa actually like, in danger or something?"

"I hope I'm wrong, but I think everyone in the stadium might be in danger." - You can't give an insane statement like that without explaining yourself at least a little bit. Unfortunately my hurried exposition didn't offer much to Gretchen other than confusion since she was so lacking in context, but to the other girl's credit, she took me down to the competitor's area without much complaint, and offered only a few words of concern when I diverted us into the first 'Staff Only' area I could find.

"You don't have to follow me. I just– I have this feeling. We need to check on the gaia spot," I whispered to the other girl. The further we descended, the more certain I felt. Something was wrong. I just couldn't quite put my finger on what it was.

"Well I'm not letting you just get into trouble on your own. I guess I owe you at least that much." I shook my head.

"I hope we just get in trouble. Seriously Gretchen, this could get dangerous."

"All the more reason to not let you go running off on your own then," the other teen replied, her eyes flashing.

"If I've learned anything this year, it's that we've got to stick together." I wasn't really sure who 'we' was, but I was actually sort of thankful for the other girl's company. It made stalking through the stadium's oddly derelict underbelly just a little bit less creepy.

"Seriously though, where is everyone? Maushold, do you hear anything?" My diminutive partners offered a shake of their heads, indicating a negative.

"There should be staff down here, right?" Gretchen asked, as we hustled along.

"I mean, they can't all be working above-ground. There should be people on break, maintenance personnel, that sort of thing."

"Something is wrong," I reiterated, the certainty growing in my belly.

"Shit, I should have told Mr. Gima."

"Who?" Gretchen asked, but before I could explain, a chirp from Maushold caught our attention. The trio had angled their heads towards an upcoming corridor, indicating sound coming from that direction.

"Sign says that's towards the south-side of the stadium," Gretchen indicated a hanging directory. I thought back to Mechry's above-ground layout, visualizing the placement of the great synergy stone in my mind. I knew that it'd be located directly above the gaia spot, and sure enough, it was prominently placed in the building's southern facade.

"That's the way we need to go," I urged, accelerating our group's pace through the suspiciously abandoned corridors. It only took us another few minutes to arrive at our destination, the end of our journey was punctuated by the sight of two guards and their partners, all four slumped against the same wall.

"Are they–" Gretchen breathed, her voice choked. My body felt ice-cold at this point, as I went to check on the nearest uniformed man, holding a finger to his mouth.

"Still breathing," I told her, relief warming my tone. I pushed up an eyelid, staring at the man's overly-constricted pupil. It was barely visible against his brown iris, and very tellingly, it didn't dilate at all as it was exposed to the light.

"Hypnosis. Probably a strong one, judging by how unresponsive they are. Mana," I stood up and turned to my floating partner, "give me an Uproar."

"What?"

" WAAAASHHIIIIIII!" The sound of my partner obliging my command overwhelmed Gretchen's confused question, forcing a shouted curse from the other teen as she scrambled away from my screaming partner. The two guards shot up like they'd been injected with adrenaline, as did the Houndoom and the Grovyle slumped over next to them, all four dropping into defensive stances, eyes scanning for threats.

Instead of whatever danger they were expecting, they found two teenagers, six Falinks, three mauses, one Beedrill, and a small school of very, very loud fish.

"We need to get into the gaia spot!" I shouted through the ringing in my ears, wasting no time. The two men looked at me, obviously confused and befuddled, and their Pokémon weren't doping much better, the pair still blinking the sleep from their eyes.

"What's going on!?" one of the men shouted, just as Mana's Uproar ended. His voice was still faint, even in spite of the sudden silence, as the ringing from my piscine partner's move still reverberated in our ears.

"I think someone snuck something dangerous into the gaia point. We need to go make sure it's secure," I told the two men, gesturing at the door behind them.

"And who the hell are you?" the other man asked, looking (understandably given the situation) angry and belligerent.

"The one who just woke you up," I reasoned, "after someone went to the effort of Hypnotising you asleep. Someone who wanted to get past you, into the gaia point," I nodded again demonstrably at the closed door set in the wall behind them. The angrier one ground his teeth for a few seconds, and then snapped to the other man, "Argen, check it out. Snipe and I'll keep an eye on these–" he'd probably been about to say a number, but he clearly got lost trying to count Gretchen and I along with all of my partners.

I didn't help that Mana was slowly duplicating into more and more azure forms in anticipation of sudden and extreme violence. I was tensed up too, because I could feel it now, a sense of wrongness, flowing out from the door Argen was about to open. My ear was cold, and when I spoke, it felt like I could see my words, traveling through the ambient wisps of shadow that were rising up from the ground.

"Wait–" But he didn't. Argen pulled the door ajar, and a blast of energy from within blew the entire thing off its hinges, sending the poor man flying. He went tumbling past us, hitting his Houndoom and sending them both careening into the corridor behind our group. A wave of shadows erupted from the open portal after him, and I felt it trying to lift me, to carry me away.

My mouth opened in a wordless scream, blasting the shadows around me away, and my partners flew forwards, putting themselves between me and any danger from inside the room. As a wall of water and carapace erupted in front of me, I felt a hand latch onto my arm, and then we were all consumed in the encroaching well of inky black. For a moment, everything was darkness, and then, the shadows lifted, and all I could see was a vision of hell.

A grey expanse of cold steel opened up in front of us, blocked at the edges by jagged spires of metal and concrete. Pulsing orange stones lay intertwined with crystalline shards of fractured cement, and crooked rebar and sparking wires exploding out in fractal frenzies from the edges of our enclosure. I swiveled left, then right, but could see no breaks in the wall of rust and stone hemming us in on all sides. The 'sky' above us was open, somehow, but cast in a sallow, pale-gray that went on, seemingly forever.

Far off in the distance– on the very edges of what I could see– great, toothed gears rotated in a dizzying, endless dance. Wherever we were now, it wasn't in Mechry Stadium. The other security guard had been carried away out-of-sight by the blast of shadowy energy, but Gretchen had made the journey to this otherworldly hellscape with me, sheltering in the aegis of my partners and my overworked voice.

Our Pokémon stood and floated in front of us, bristling and buzzing at the threat on the other side of the eldritch space. Floating there, rotating so quickly electrical sparks were coming off their body, was a Klang, the Steel-type's body covered in wisps of shadowy power. Orange crystal protruded from both gear's teal cores, affixed there by some unknowable means, and an ominous grinding noise flowed off the Shadow Pokémon in waves that I felt in my bones and teeth.

"Wh-wh-what the hell is going on? Where are we?" Gretchen's horrified voice came from behind me.

"I'm not sure," I told the other girl grimly, "but I don't think we have much time to figure it out." With a mechanical screech, the Klang's already frenetic pace accelerated even further, and the two halves of their conjoined body began crashing against each other in an inconsistent tattoo. They turned to face us, and though I couldn't make out their eyes due to the speed at which they were spinning, I knew exactly what I'd find there. Hate, and an all-encompassing need to consume.

And then, with the roar of metal and the crackling of electricity, they were on us.