[attr="class","spiral"]"Fuck."

IMPRISON binds him anew. The tether provides him little recourse so he exudes his frustration in in the only way he knows. Whatever she may think of him, as unbecoming as he is, matters not. The only thing that matters, the only thing that ever matters, is the objective and the reward that comes with it.

"God fucking dammit!"

Cauterizing the wound brings their impromptu extraction to a close. No matter what Pokemon Ditto ferries into the room the HEAL PULSE can never quite quell the pain. It's more supplemental treatment than anything else, used to dress her treatment with an assurance that his flesh will regrow properly.

Utter disgust paints his features and he can't bear to look at Jirachi's Wish Tag. By now, it reverts to nothing more than mere paper. His flesh, once a piece of him, curls around it, giving it new life. Why they conjoin remains unknown but it's evolved.

It's something new.

[attr="class","spiral"]Dry humor, while otherwise amusing, is overcast by the glaring sun of searing pain that covers every millimeter of his exposed flesh. The cut, as precise as it is, outlines the perimeter of where it hurts the worst. Even after being addressed, the last thing on his mind is anything physical.

He takes his breather with a scowl, fuming.

“Yeah.”

The volcano goes dormant once the eruption ends. Like harden rock, his expression dies down as the extremities of his pain increase his threshold for tolerance. The way it continues to bleed in suffering and torture seems tame in comparison. Slowly, he comes to.

“Shitty timing.”

His gratitude is told behind the softer glimmer of his eyes. The lack the poignant intrusion they usually thrust at his company. Instead, the recoil until he can take a long enough drag that the embers flicker. What he exhales is solid MISTY TERRAIN, more gel than vapor, holding it back out for her.

“Bloody tag is unpredictable.”

His eyes narrow.

“Or something is coming.”

[attr="class","spiral"]“…”

Fernando yearns to protest. Her presence, while welcomed at first, is now infringing upon his schedule. There is far too much for him to do with not enough time to do it. Dedicating a whole day is out of the question. Yet he doesn’t have the gall to refuse her.

He had underestimated Jirachi once before. This will not be a repeat.

“Fine.”

His fever wanes the more his mind wanders. Pain is an afterthought in the recess of what’s to come. The display between scientist—no, trainer would be more adept at this point—and Ultra Beast tug at his worry but even that subsides.

“But the tag comes first. It is imperative it remains functional. Dormant if necessary, but functional nonetheless.”

[attr="class","spiral"]“I’ll be alright,” he insists. Another labored breath comes, this time deliberately slow, to ensure he can still strum up his MISTY TERRAIN on demand. The condensation rests on his chest, pulling apart like loose cotton candy.

“No. But the first wish was simplistic. Butchered, arguably, but easy enough to execute. Mine was a bit more complicated. It’s still being fulfilled.”

A wince cuts across his features when Fernando tries to push himself up to stand. The fingers of his good arm wrap around the armrest, digging into them, as his muscle flex underneath his grip. One, two, push.

“Indeed. Once it stabilizes I intend to move it to my lab, when I can do so covertly.”

The towel slips with his movement, caught by the same hand as he wipes it across his brow. “The sooner the better.”

[attr="class","spiral"]Fernando hesitates, not because he doesn’t trust her—he doesn’t—but out of a natural born reservation. It’s a habit older than he is, honed by an upbringing prone on secrecy.

It takes a conscious effort to spell out the words. Each syllable leaves his mouth drier than the last, a testament to how much he’s invested into her asylum.

“To simplify it, I wished for the continued and lasting survival of mankind with us nestled near, if not at the top, of the food chain.” So far, so good. The everlasting threats that appear in Hoenn have been sufficiently trounced. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t something worse out there. In fact, he knows it exists. “It comes with the stipulation that the world exists and a balance is maintained but who knows how the tag will interpret it.”

In more ways than one, he is grateful for her presence. Their relationship, fragile prior to their mutual partnership, has grown on his infatuation and appreciation he has for her talents.

“The tag is merely a piece of the puzzle, a means to the end.”

He heaves one final gasp. That’s enough floundering. The rest becomes bearable. He still leans into her though.

“It will be the basis for the world’s contingency.”

[attr="class","spiral"]“It’s good practice to adapt to your company. The Opal is surprisingly good.”

He reclines into the couch until his weight can push no further. It’s the first real rest he’s gotten since the tag started reacting. Fernando feels his eyes close but that doesn’t last. It never does.

“No,” he runs his uninjured hand through his hair. “It’s only a hypothesis but forcing the wish tag to work without Jirachi leads to corrupted wishes. The first instance was summoning a fake Ho-oh that turned on the wisher.”

Which makes him doubt his own endeavors. “It’ll still fulfill the wish but in roundabout ways. Mine was purposeful long and vague to avoid such issues. I can only assume this will contribute to it or that the wish tag needs more in order to fulfill it.”

How this fits into everything comes to mind but surely the wish tag doesn’t realize his more immediate goal. Having a piece of him would certainly fall within his own predictions but even that was just a washed out theory.

“It doesn’t need all of me, just a piece, I think. It needs to be able to recognize who I am and bond with me.”