Chương 320: Interlude - Iron Islands I

Cecilia had to admit it, Canalave city looked like a nice place to live in. It was not like her usual favorites in Castelia or Jubilife— massive metropolises with urban sprawl as far as the eye could see— but it certainly had a charm of its own. There was something about the maritime way of life here that was so endearing, and it reminded her of the piers in Castelia, only a much smaller version of them.

The streets were paved in a beautiful pattern of light and dark grays, and no asphalt roads were to be found here. Instead of buses or trams, people traveled up and down the city through their public ferry system, which was another point in their favor. But it was the bridge that linked the two halves of the city, that Cecilia enjoyed the most. Unova had always had a thing for bridges. While they did link the entire region together, they were also more than that. They were a symbol of unity.

Bridging dreams, cultures, innovations, and lives together. Six bridges, but all united in one purpose. It sounded good, and it certainly made for excellent dressing, but Cecilia knew of the rot that delved if you looked at Unova long enough. She had always known, but only now did she think it was an issue that needed to be fixed. Rot should be cleansed from the whole. Cecilia checked the time on her phone as she felt the tinge of saltiness in the air with Slowking and Croagunk by her side.

The fighting type was punching the air with glowing fists in an attempt to build up her stamina, trying not to laugh at Slowking's silly jokes. Since the raid on the Pokemon Mansion, she had been training day and night without a day's break, even though Cecilia had tried to have her slow down. She was, however, progressing leaps and bounds with Scyther's tutelage. The soft sound of the waves would have been relaxing, should she not have every trainer who passed stare at her.

The news of her murder had followed her far, it seemed. The loss of reputation bothered her, as much as it pained to admit. She had never been one to care much for what people thought about her, but a good reputation could be leveraged, and she had lost that advantage, possibly forever. Everyone knew Cynthia killed people, but no one had ever gotten footage of it. It was all about image.

It was one thing to theorize and talk about how Cynthia dealt with criminals, and another matter entirely to see someone disintegrate a man's head with Dragon Pulse without flinching. Yes. That was how she had killed. And the second time was nowhere as difficult as the first. She raised her head and exhaled when Chase finally turned the corner with two drinks in hand.

"Catch," he yelled.

"Wha—" Cecilia brought her hands up, and although she made contact with the drink, it nearly fell to the ground. Slowking wrapped it in a neat psychic bubble and raised it back to her.

"Did you have to throw that?" she sighed, staring at the juice box.

"What even is this?"

"Grapefruit," he grunted.

"Chase, I hate grapefruit." He scoffed.

"What the hell is wrong with you? How does someone hate grapefruit? It's literally a fucking fruit. It's sweet." Right. Only Grace knew things like that. Cecilia clicked her tongue.

"It has that weird acidic aftertaste— you know what, never mind. Let's swap. You have a different flavor."

"Whatever." Chase hadn't really needed to find her, since they'd been going in the same direction regardless. He had popped up yesterday night, having just reached the city a few days after she did, and finding which Center Cecilia stayed at these days was as easy as looking up her name online. She appreciated his presence, still. He helped her not get lost in thought about the Voice or Grace. Ah, I thought about her again, she sighed.

Cecilia hated the way they'd left things, but she had needed space— and still did. Still, she couldn't help but worry. Had her meeting with her mother gone well? Had she met Mesprit yet? Were her therapy sessions going well? How was she doing without her— and was it as suffocating as Cecilia felt? She had wanted to ask all of this. Call, speak, do anything together, so long as she heard from her, but this was a conscious decoupling.

The pragmatic way to look at this was that they would be better off learning to spend time without each other. Their last real interaction together had been… somewhat heated, with Grace having tried to minimize the horrible fact that Cecilia had used the Voice. Cecilia had known that she had just wanted to make her feel better by saying that it had been to protect them, but it had done the opposite. But still, it wasn't like they… couldn't text at least a few times.

Grace had just never even messaged once, so Cecilia thought she was doing well enough. Or that she no longer needed her, and that was a mortifying thought. Not even once, she had texted. And she was strangely silent in their group chat as well. The only reason Cecilia knew of her well-being was because Denzel had told her that his parents had seen her in Twinleaf for a few days, and they were not happy about it. Should she text first, then? Would that be odd? Would she be annoyed? Was Grace still angry at her?

I don't want her to hate me—"Stop brooding about Grace," Chase said.

"Seen you do it too many times, and I've only been here for a day."

"You don't get it," Cecilia muttered.

"You're right, I don't," he shrugged.

"I don't get this dating stuff, really. But you won't talk to me about it, so I can't, so honestly, that's on you."

"How much longer until the ferry?" she asked, ignoring him.

"An hour and a half," he said.

"Wonder how your therapist will follow you this time. Think he'll be on the boat?" Cece would have smiled at that, weeks ago.

"Possibly. It's not like he's that conspicuous." Chase snorted.

"Conspicuous."

"What? It's a word." That was a lot of time to burn. The ferry to the Iron Islands only ran twice per day, once in the morning and once late in the afternoon, and they were taking the morning one to have as much daylight as possible. Surprisingly, Chase had no longer been hesitant about it when he found her, asking her to go to the islands right away instead, like he was ready, now. Cecilia admired her friend, in a way.

He was the only one who had come out of the Pokemon Mansion in a relatively alright mental state, and he was mellower now than he had been.

"What're they saying about you in your country?" Chase asked, trying to change the subject. Probably awful things, Cecilia thought. Not that she would let that stop her. She had already been branded a puppet of Cynthia, so nothing she could do would rescue her reputation.

"Oh, I haven't looked, believe it or not. I can't handle that many problems at once…" she answered.

"Right. Sorry. Okay, then, what the fuck is it with you and grapefruit?" This was going to be a long hour and a half. — Cecilia leaned against the ferry's railing as the warm wind fluttered in her hair. Already, they had passed multiple islands, but this boat only stopped at the central and largest one, which was, according to Chase, the only island where one could lead a somewhat decent life in the islands. It was no Canalave, but at least it had a Pokemon Center and proper hospital.

Reaching the Iron Islands without a ferry was actually illegal, because Sinnoh's government wanted to log each entry into the island and each exit too. It served the same purpose as those Ranger Stations that flanked Eterna Forest, the entryways into Mount Coronet and Victory Road, except there was no lesson to be had. It was simply a way to track who was going into the relatively dangerous environment. Or which Iron Island denizen was going out.

They still had a while to go to reach the central island, which according to Chase was named Fisher Island. Not a very unique name, but at least she knew what to expect when they reached the place. Cecilia reentered the basically empty ferry and found Chase on his knees facing his seat, where his Wimpod was squirming about excitedly. It was… cute, really. He babied his Wimpod very much, even if he pretended not to. She hadn't even had her first battle, since Chase wanted to 'make sure she was ready'.

With how slow he was being with her, she wouldn't be ready for the Conference in time, but maybe that was fine.

"Am I interrupting something?" Cecilia asked. Her friend flinched, and Wimpod screeched, jumping on his back and desperately trying to crawl under his shirt despite being far too large to do so. Chase quickly recalled her and glared at Cecilia.

"In my defense, I had no idea she would get scared at my voice," she preemptively said with two raised hands.

"Arceus…"

"You, of all people, cannot criticize me for a lack of tact, Chase," Cecilia said as she sat down.

"Still, I'm sorry. It looks like you were having a good time."

"Take whatever you saw to your grave," he said, half-jokingly.

"How's the view outside? Did you see Anvil Island? I always thought it looked cool as a kid."

"You didn't stay in Falkirk your entire life?" Cece asked, suddenly intrigued.

"I did, but my Dad had pictures of some funny-looking islands he'd been to. Being shaped like an anvil is pretty cool if you ask me." How childlike, Cecilia couldn't help but notice.

"I guess I did go to Fisher Island once when I got really sick, but I don't remember it much. I used to get sick all the time, back in the day."

"I did see a really flat island— more than what I thought I'd see, in this archipelago," Cecilia said.

"Oh, that's probably Sandy's Key," Chase shrugged.

"It has like, a hundred people on it tops. Can't really sustain much more, with how small it is." Cecilia paused.

"You really do know every island?"

"Obviously. It's home," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Got any more questions?" He was actually eager to talk about it, too. Cecilia wasn't as good with people as Grace was, but she was not bad by any means, especially with her friends.

"So this place is a part of Canalave, right? They say Byron was born here and used to be a miner." Chase's eye twitched, and he laughed dryly.

"A few years in Oreburgh, and Byron forgot all about us. Dad said that he promised a lot when he left, you know? He crawled through the mud every day like all of us, and it was the first time someone from the Iron Island got to such a position. Gym Leader of Oreburgh. He stayed there for years, and he promised he would put pressure on Sinnoh to change stuff. Teracore operates in Oreburgh's mines too, so we thought he'd be able to put some pressure on them and have them change the way they do things."

Cecilia frowned, guessing at what happened next.

"Nothing changed beyond some empty gestures. It's always the same, really. Empty promises," Chase muttered as he stared through the window at the endless ocean.

"I know now that he probably really did want to change stuff. Why else would he become Gym Leader of Canalave after so many years spent in Oreburgh? Closer to home, and this time, the Iron Islands would actually be in his jurisdiction."

"Power comes with its own bindings," Cecilia said.

"He got in there thinking he'd change everything and got a dose of reality, I bet," Chase snorted.

"Even back when Cynthia hadn't democratized the country, Gym Leaders weren't all-powerful and had to wrangle special interests, and Radetic had his fingers in a lot of pies." Cecilia frowned.

"How'd you learn about this? Not that I'm calling you dumb—""You better not," he grunted.

"I've just been researching stuff. You know, to get ready." Cecilia leaned forward. Had she finally found someone to speak about statecraft with?

"Did you figure out anything?"

"I did. The clean-cut way of doing things would be to grant the Iron Islands independence from Canalave and to make it a full-fledged part of Sinnoh," he concluded.

"That way, we negotiate with the mining companies. We set the terms. Not some bureaucrat sitting hundreds of miles away in a cozy office who never set foot on a single island."

"Negotiations, then. I thought you would employ more brutal methods as Champion."

"Well, I'm not going to be the Champion any time soon, right?" he admitted, possibly for the first time.

"Gotta start small. Organize, and stuff. Make this matter. Of course, it's going to be hard without Canalave's subsidies, but we could negotiate something with the federal government. I could also try going for Gym Leader position, but I'm not planning on working in some crummy Gym for a decade and licking Byron's boot so he picks me as a successor when he retires. He picked his fucking son for Oreburgh, and you know what happened."

"They say Roark made Maylene look like an angel, early in his tenure," Cecilia said.

"He desperately wanted to show up his father and bulldozed every challenger that came through."

"He used the correct Pokemon, but he fought for real," Chase nodded.

"He'd let wins slip through after trainers knocked their heads against him a few times, but if your instincts were worse than his, there was no way you were winning on the first try. It's a wonder he was never recalled."

"Not a wonder," Cecilia smiled.

"If he hadn't been Byron's son, he would have been fired by the League. There's no way they would have let a random Gym Trainer stay in his position."

"Nepotism's the bane of my fucking existence," he spat.

"Anyway, Byron fucking sucks, no matter where he comes from, but I'll wait until I'm in a position to make change happen to judge him fully."

"How level-headed."

"I'm super level-headed. You just never bothered looking."

"You did, I recall, call me overrated Unovan trash when we first met." Chase snorted.

"Water under the bridge, right?"

"You're lucky I'm so forgiving," she said, finally cracking a smile.

"When we get to Fisher Island, how do we get to Falkirk? Another ferry?"

"They haven't even rebuilt the town, Cece," Chase shook his head.

"Don't think they ever will. We'll have to fly there. It's fine now that they know we're in the Iron Islands. I know the general direction, but I'll get us a map just to be sure."

"They sell maps out in front," Cecilia suggested.

"They do?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I'll go now, then." He came back with a crusty map that took effort to unfold. Cecilia wrinkled her nose. There was no way she was ever going to touch that thing, but Chase didn't seem to care. The Iron Islands were composed of hundreds of inhabited and uninhabited islands. Some were simply a large enough rock to have been marked down, while others had thousands of inhabitants. According to Chase, tens of thousands of people lived scattered throughout the islands— nearly a hundred thousand in total.

Directly east of them was Sinnoh's coast and the area around Eterna Forest.

"There. The town's still labeled, since it's an older map," Chase said, tapping on Falkirk. His lips tightened, and his finger stayed still on the island.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?"

"You deal with your own demons," he snapped before pausing.

"My bad. Sorry."

"Water under the bridge," she repeated.

"Remember, I'm here to help."

"Seriously, though, what about you?" Chase asked.

"You dealing okay? I've never had any problems with, uh, you know." The Voice, she guessed.

"You know about Zweilous," she said. She had told him, before they decided to go together to the Iron Islands. There would be a fight there, and she had said that if he wanted to go alone to avoid having to deal with a rampaging dragon, he could.

"The thing is, when I asked my brother about how to deal with their evolution, he told me that it would take days for them to even hear my voice. Weeks to use in an actual battle without them going blind with rage and murdering anything in their way." Chase frowned, but decided to let her keep going.

"You see, for all of your flaws, you've got a good moral code—" he chuckled.

"—I'm serious. You don't have to worry about temptation, Chase. Me, I have thoughts about ways I could use this to my advantage. I was considering using it on Zweilous when they evolved, Chase. To get him to sit still for an hour so we could speak and see if I could get through to them." If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. She'd already told her therapist Jude about this, but he had been less than ideal in that regard.

Instead of pushing back, which is what she wanted, he had said that it might work in everyone's favor and talked to her about consent instead. He was right, damn it, he was. Zweilous— or Hydreigon, in this case, wouldn't mind. Their evolution would change them, but she knew them like the back of her hand. If it didn't work, well, no harm would have been done, because they wouldn't care. The command in question would have been to calm down.

Only enough to let them communicate without Hydreigon throwing lethal attacks at her and her team, and not enough to actually control the dragon's actions. Knowing Zweilous, they would be horrified that they had even struck her in the first place, but was it her place to do this for them? It was not. So after Jude's suggestion, she had asked them, and they had agreed without a moment's hesitation. They were growing smarter, these days, but was their word enough to count as consent?

"You're having a real war with yourself over here," Chase noted. Cecilia took her first real breath in a minute.

"I don't like the way I'm starting to think, Chase."

"I'm probably a bad guy to ask for advice," he shrugged.

"But would it really be so bad?"

"It would," she answered instantly.

"Then don't do it." Cecilia sighed, and turned away from him. He did not get it. No one did. —"This place hasn't changed," Chase said as he stepped onto the pier.

"You said you didn't remember it," Cecilia raised an eyebrow.

"It's about the atmosphere, Cecilia." Fisher Island was actually home to five separate fishing cities. This one— First Landing— was the largest, home to nearly ten thousand people, and the largest town on the Iron Islands in general. It felt odd to walk on land again after hours spent at sea, and the world seemed to move, still, but Cecilia walked through the pier and entered the town. First Landing's buildings were actually mostly made of stone, and their exteriors were scarred by the ceaseless sea winds.

Slate-gray roofs, weathered but steadfast, provided a stark contrast against the vibrant blues of the ocean that stretched endlessly to the horizon. The paths were mostly dirt, but the areas around the pier were paved, along with the path to the mines in the islands' center. Cecilia assumed it made it easier to extract resources that way, but it reminded her of what she'd read about the colonial empires of old.

Develop ways to bring resources back to the mainland while leaving the actual inhabitants living in squalor. This place never stopped being a colony, did it? And they did live in squalor. There was no other way to say it, the people here lived in abject poverty worse than the most underdeveloped parts of Virbank, which her father so charmingly used to call a dump only kept afloat through the existence of Pokestar Studio. The Iron Islands did not have an industry to keep themselves above the water line.

All they had was mining resources that never seemed to run out and fishing. Nothing else. The people here looked hardy, both in their constitution and in their expressions. Everyone here was as well-built as your average trainer or better, with how much they moved around every day, which made Chase's past thinness stand out a lot more. Other cities couldn't boast of such a population.

"Pokemon Center should be up this road," Chase said.

"Can we spend a night here?"

"Of course," Cecilia nodded. She was not about to stop Chase from getting to know his home again, and if she was correct, he might need the time to get ready and brace himself to confront his past.

"Just making sure, you don't have any plans for revenge, right?"

"Nah. I need to look forward, not back," the teenager replied.

"Plus, that Steelix would definitely kick my ass. It was like that Rhyperior and Tyranitar we saw in Mount Coronet." She wanted to ask if his memory wasn't skewed by the trauma, but that wasn't her place, and she was glad he wasn't pursuing Steelix deep in the abandoned mines. Battling a Steelix in tight caves of all things was a surefire way to die. First Landing was built upon an ever-rising hill, and it was like the city had layers, like a continuously rising semi-circle.

Cecilia stared in disbelief at what they called a Pokemon Center here. The building was so small and nowhere near as sprawling as the usual ones. It looked like it would barely have enough room to house ten people, let alone enough to heal the largest Pokemon specimen. Chase was unbothered by it, though, and entered the building right away. Cecilia stopped herself from wincing at how dirty everything was in here. They couldn't even be bothered to clean the floors? And what was that smell?

Goodness, this was not going well. She would honestly rather camp outside than sleep in here. The Unovan let Chase speak to a nurse who wasn't even in costume as she tried not to be rude and stare at every nook and cranny.

"We've got two rooms. I'm going to go out, though. You coming?" he asked.

"Yes, please— oh, wait, my phone's ringing. They have service here?" Chase rolled his eyes.

"You know, once in a while, your rich girl persona really comes through. Obviously they have service, it's a damn Center."

"It was a genuine worry!" Cecilia blustered.

"Let me see…"

"Oh, my phone rang too," Chase muttered. There was a flutter of warmth in her stomach when she saw who was texting. Grace had sent a message to the group chat with the people who knew about Team Galactic's true plot, so Mira, Chase, Denzel, and her. Grace P.

'Sorry for having been radio silent for a few days, guys, I hope everyone is doing well. I finally met Mesprit yesterday and I have a few things to say…' It was long. Longer than any text she had ever received from her, but it explained the meeting with Mesprit, including the Legendary's terrifying behavior, making Grace love them by force. Cecilia sighed in relief when she read that Grace was back to normal, however. Beyond that, there weren't many details about the conversation they had.

They did finally have an answer as to why they'd been chosen, and it made understanding Azelf's disdain so much easier. They had not been someone the Legendary wanted, but they'd been the best option. It was odd, however, that Uxie had waited until they met Mira to give someone their gift, but then again, maybe there really was no one better.

In her opinion, Denzel might have made a good Shard of Knowledge, but she was no God and didn't know what the criteria for being picked even were, and there was no doubt Mira had been a good pick.

'... my new powers are odd. I've essentially become a full-blown empath, and I'm feeling so overwhelmed by everything I'm probably going to have to skip visiting my dad until I adjust better to them. I feel like Jubilife would make me pass out on the spot right now. Just being near Sandgem is hard enough. So I'll be staying on routes for a little while until I learn to adjust my power down, so I'll probably be silent again. Sorry.'

"Well, looks like she's doing relatively alright for herself," Chase said after finishing reading. Cecilia nodded absent-mindedly. Grace was an empath, which meant sensing what emotions people and Pokemon felt at all times. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness at the thought, but it looked like she would be able to turn it off at some point like she'd said she had done against Wake, so that soothed most of her worries.

Cecilia texted back to the group chat as a whole, but part of her so desperately wanted to call, just for a minute. To hear her voice again. Mira C. Wdym by full blown empath? Thats a little vague. For a moment, Grace was typing. Then for five minutes. Then for longer. Cecilia almost thought she'd accidentally typed a letter and put her phone back in her pocket. Grace P. I can tell you whjen we ssee each other. Mira C. Thats in a while Grace. Possibly over that 1 month timeline you gave us. Grace P.

Sorry, I have to go. I have to get bettr at undrstading it myself before I say anything innscurate, and Im not ready.

"She's not okay," Cecilia muttered as she crouched with a heavy breath.

"She's not okay at all. I have to call her." Chase didn't protest, since he didn't understand why they'd been apart in the first place. The phone didn't ring. It went straight to voice mail, so she called again. And again. And again. More than ten times. Chase gripped her shoulder tightly and acted like he couldn't see her tears falling to the floor.

"You know what, why don't we, uh, stay in? Your next meeting with Jude is tomorrow at noon, right?" Should she leave? No, she shouldn't. It wouldn't be fair to Chase, but it also wouldn't be fair to herself to try to chase someone with no way of knowing where she was despite how much she wanted to. Prioritize yourself, Jude would say. Right now, she had to get Zweilous through their evolution, get Scyther to evolve, and help Croagunk reach her potential. Cecilia steeled herself. Compartmentalize.

Put the anxiety and grief in a box and keep it there for later. With a deep breath, she rose with her back straight and her chin high, as if she hadn't been crying in the first place.

"Go do whatever you want, and I'll follow," she finally told Chase. Her friend frowned.

"You doing that is seriously weird. And you know, probably unhealthy."

"I can't afford to cry with so many challenges ahead of me. Where are we headed?" Cecilia followed Chase out of the Pokemon Center and down the winding road. Apparently, he was going to some kind of bar he'd spotted on the way here next to the pier that Cecilia had missed due to looking around like a kid. There was definitely more to Grace's empathy than she was willing to let on, but why keep it hidden?

Cecilia racked her mind with the answer, but nothing came up beside her maybe thinking her power would make their opinion of her change. And if she hadn't changed when hearing about Cecilia and Chase's Voice, then why worry about her own gift? The group chat was still alight with Denzel trying to see if Grace was okay, but Mira was largely silent, not typing anything other than an 'okay' when Denzel asked how she was doing, which sounded faker than anything else, even through text.

It wasn't just Grace who wasn't doing well. None of them were. Even Chase, if she looked long enough. He perpetually readjusted his cap or gripped the necklace around his neck like a tic he couldn't shake. They entered a non-descript bar without a name that smelled like cigarettes. Cecilia nearly choked on the second-hand smoke, and even Chase looked uncomfortable. Sailors here spent their evenings drinking their wages away and playing dominoes or cards, which they slammed on tables in obnoxiously loud ways.

Those who didn't drink hoped to save enough to move to the mainland and escape from this horrible life. And the ticket to the ferry was expensive, for people who lived here. That wasn't even counting the money you'd need to start a completely new life. These people were stuck here. This was Sinnoh's largest open air prison. Cecilia's eye twitched when she felt people stare.

It reminded her of the horrifying way Louis had looked at her in the first weeks they'd known each other, before Eterna Forest had changed them all. She was strong— strong enough to destroy this entire building without a second thought and bury them all in the debris. She could order everyone in this room to die for her, and they would do it with a smile on their face. Still, she felt anxious.

"Are Pokemon allowed here?" Cecilia asked Chase in a hushed voice.

"Knock yourself out," Chase said as he strode toward the bartender. A woman, thankfully. One of the only ones in this entire establishment who had apparently learned to ignore the stares. Cecilia released Scyther at her side, and suddenly no one was looking at her anymore. She breathed a sigh of relief as the bug type eyed her curiously. He wouldn't get it, of course, but his presence was very appreciated.

"Hey. I need information about Falkirk," Chase said, leaning against the dirty, ash-covered counter. The woman snorted, scanning Chase with tired eyes.

"And who are you, little man?" she asked with a very distinct accent. The same one all of the Iron Islands' inhabitants shared, and that Chase had largely lost. It was surprising to Cecilia that someone didn't know who Chase was, especially in his home region. She would have expected them to be fans of his, and even then, he had just participated in the biggest poacher raid Sinnoh had experienced in decades. It was all anyone could talk about on the news!

"Chase Karlson," he answered nonchalantly.

"Son of Urie Karlson and Adeline Halcourt. One of Falkirk's thirty-one survivors. I have seven badges, and I fight for you." He stopped to slide her his Trainer ID.

"Now, I'll ask again. I need information about Falkirk." He was the center of the room, now. The person everyone in the room had to look at— even her. Murmurs about his name ran through the bar. So they did know him, then, Cecilia thought. Just not what he looked like?

"Ask away, Chase Karlson," the woman said.

"What's your name?"

"Sonja."

"Sonja. That Steelix who destroyed Falkirk," Chase said as he dragged a chair to sit on.

"Was it spotted recently?"

"It was. Some fishermen saw it nesting out of the mountain's crest while they were looking for Magikarp, Goldeen, and Remoraid," she said, turning to one of her customers.

"Right? Anders?"

"Had its head hanging out of the mountain and everything," the man nodded as he smothered a cigarette.

"It claimed the entire island as its turf. Won't let anyone try to rebuild." That sounded like a domain in the making, given a few decades. Though according to Grace, Hatterene had told her that another Pokemon already had set up shop here and was the reason the iron never ran out. Could there be domains within domains? Could Pokemon share domains? The implications were endless, but she had no answer.

"The miners angered it too much, now it doesn't want to let anyone back on," someone else spoke up.

"Fuckin' Teracore."

"Ain't that right," another man laughed.

"Cheers to that."

"Cheers!"

"So most of the time, it's underground?" Chase asked.

"Most of the time, yes, but a Steelix that powerful can feel anything walking on the island. Kicked out an entire expedition of sailors we sent to attempt to rebuild on our own," the barkeep muttered before smirking.

"Why? You planning on getting revenge for us? Gonna shank the fucker?" Chase let a joke about stabbing through metal pass, then shook his head.

"No. I want to pay my respect to the fallen." Cecilia expected anger, but there was a twinkle in the woman's eye.

"Maybe they do raise you right on the mainland."

"I was raised here," Chase challenged.

"But you've lost your touch," she shrugged.

"Talk like 'em, now. All prim and proper. Look at your gal. One step with us common folk and she looks like she's about to pass out." Cecilia's face twisted with indignation, but Chase raised a hand to stop her from talking back and before Scyther could hiss and flash his teeth, though he did anyway, causing the bartender to pale.

"She's not like the others," he said.

"She's also a friend, not my anything. So you shut your fucking mouth." The woman laughed as color returned to her face and she turned to her clientele.

"He's got a mouth on him too! An Islander, born and bred! Want something to drink? Both of ya." Apparently, that had been… good? There were a lot of cultural differences here that Cecilia didn't get. Chase asked for whatever they had while she asked for cold water. Instead, she got lukewarm water that still had a slightly salty taste to it, and she decided not to drink any more of it. Chase, meanwhile, got beer while being underage.

Cecilia knew that he normally wouldn't have drank any, but he indulged himself this time.

"Any words from the Rangers?" Chase continued.

"They're too busy keeping the mainland safe. Got word from Canalave that the price of reclaiming the island from Steelix wouldn't be worth the cost at the moment."

"Never worth the cost when it's for us," Chase said.

"And no Ranger can take that Steelix down without help from the League. I'd do something if I could, but I'm not strong enough yet, I'm afraid."

"Can't you call them… what do they call those? Conference-goers, or whatever," someone said, eliciting a few laughs.

"Have 'em beat that Steelix."

"It's probably stronger than even those," Chase said.

"But either way, the Conference is something else entirely. Most people who make it there have never stared death in the face in any serious capacity anyway. They'd shit themselves before going to face down a wild Steelix."

"Heard you were chummy with the government, though," Sonja said.

"Chummy's one way to put it. I've already asked for help multiple times. They have other priorities, at the moment."

"Obviously," she spat.

"Any other questions, son of Urie?"

"You wouldn't know what moves or techniques Steelix is capable of using, would you? In case it tries to attack us."

"Moves?" Sonja laughed.

"They tell us to watch for Rock Slide or Rock Throw down in the mines," another man spoke up.

"Don't know much about battling, son."

"Don't worry about it, you've been plenty of help," Chase said. He downed his drink and grimaced.

"Arceus, this tastes like shit."

"Tastes like home, though, doesn't it?" Sonja grinned. He paused, then smirked.

"That, it does." They left soon after that, although Chase paid a lot more than the actual tab and told them to keep the change. Cecilia kept Scyther out and about. She'd never seen Chase in his element like this, and it had been like he'd been another person. No, it had been like he'd been himself, but fuller. Like she'd peered through the potential he actually had. Already, the people in the bar were probably speaking his name, and it would spread further than it already had.

"They didn't know much about you or what you looked like," Cecilia said.

"I thought they would."

"News spread slowly through the islands," Chase shrugged.

"And they have a lot more to worry about than watching Pokemon battling. Notice how few trainers there are here?" Cecilia nodded.

"I thought it was odd."

"It serves two purposes. One, it keeps us down in the mud. If one of us ever got strong enough and had ideas, then it'd be bad for the people running this show."

"Teracore," she muttered.

"They own this place," Chase said.

"Not in name, but they do. Byron was an anomaly, and they got to him before he could do anything of note. Two, it keeps us ignorant and makes us disdain the mainlanders, because we're other. Notice how they hated you when you walked in?"

"They were also staring in very inappropriate ways," she angrily said.

"Were they? Shit, sorry. Want me to go and beat 'em up?"

"I figured you didn't notice. It's alright, they stopped when I released Scyther anyway." It wasn't alright, but the last thing she wanted was to have Chase start a fight with his own people when the current situation had so much potential to be seized. The bug type fanned his wings and shrugged.

"Anyway, we hate the mainland. Not knowing jack shit about Pokemon battling keeps us isolated, and hatred is a powerful tool. Ignorance, though, that's the main purpose. Some people have radio here, but almost no one owns a television or a mobile phone, and being interested in battling is seen as a shameful, foreign thing. I never wanted to be a trainer until I figured something needed to change around here. I thought I'd just be a miner like my old man, or a fisherman.

That I'd either die from straying too far from the coast or too deep in the mines. Or I'd get crippled for life." Cecilia nodded. She had seen those too, while walking the streets. People who had been grievously wounded on the job, now wasting away.

"You have an opportunity here," she said.

"To spread your name in all of the Iron Islands. To become the most famous man here since Byron, decades ago."

"That's not the goal," he said.

"That way of thinking will turn me into just another politician."

"But it'll help you gain leverage," she pushed.

"To reach your actual objective. A voice for the Iron Islands that people can't just ignore. When you gained more influence, you could…" she gestured widely.

"I don't know, organize a strike or something. Keep the people organized and fed through donations, if you use your fame to call on the rest of the region to help. No one knows how bad it is here, Chase. They don't ever talk about this on the news—""I know that," he spat.

"I— know."

"So then it should be the goal. There's an opportunity here. I'm not telling you to do it now, but at some point, you'll have to grab it. With the Voice, you'll have so much leverage that the government will be inclined to listen to you."

"I get it. Now fuck off." Cecilia's shoulders slumped.

"Sorry, I guess." Her friend brought a hand to his forehead and sighed.

"I don't want to think like that, Cecilia. I don't want to be… one of them. The people who see this as some sort of game and not people's lives. They'll suffer if I go through with this. Every time there was a strike, they ended up only losing."

"You're already playing the game. Here, take your plan for independence. Think it'll be any easier? Even though Canalave gives you enough money to keep you afloat, but not enough to actually improve your lives, it'll get worse before it gets better. It's a course of action to achieve your goals, and it's just politics."

"It fucks me up, you know," he sighed, suddenly turning toward her.

"The fact that I see what's been done here and I get it. I hate it, but I fucking get it. Sinnoh's iron mines are the most productive in the entire world because we have an endless supply here. No one has to do prospecting, aerial surveys or whatever the fuck it is they do to find new ones. We just keep mining the same spots over and over and shit out more iron and ore than multiple countries combined. And it's like, when did I start thinking like this?"

"I get it. I really do. But thinking it is one thing, Chase. To beat your enemy, you have to know them and how they think. And you have to hit them where it hurts." Chase's leg stopped bouncing— she hadn't even noticed he has started— and he sighed.

"Well, I'll be fucking damned. I guess I will."

"We're the same, you and I," she said, grabbing him by the shoulder. She'd grown a little taller than he had, now, by slightly less than an inch.

"Yeah, only you'll have to do on a region-wide scale what I'm trying to do in a localized area," he said.

"Good luck with that." It was not a sarcastic remark, but a genuine one.

"Now, this Steelix," Cecilia said.

"What exactly is the plan to stop ourselves from getting killed?"

"If it comes for us, I'll use the Voice and buy us enough time to fly off," he whispered.

"But I'm hoping that two people instead of a full expedition won't anger it too much. You keep yours for your dragon."

"I didn't tell you I'd use it," she said.

"But you want Zweilous to evolve during our stay here, don't you? To get them useable before the fight with Byron."

"I do," she acknowledged.

"So either you'll have to most likely give up on the Conference because risking using Hydreigon in a Gym will be insane," he said.

"Or you'll have to use the Voice and figure something out." Giving up on the Conference? Not an option. It was meant to be her stepping stone. A place to show how powerful she'd grown to Unova and to arrive there with the wind in her sails. Without it, she would arrive humiliated. Cecilia's lips thinned.

"Why don't we go train? Clear our heads for a few hours?"

"Sure thing."

"Maybe Wimpod and Croagunk can have a fight," she smiled.

"Absolutely fucking not," he growled.

"She's not ready." She was smiling. Walking like nothing had happened with Chase and Scyther by her side. But inside of Cecilia's mind, gears started turning.