[attr="class","wildbgsaf"]

[attr="class","wildtitle"]A WILD COTTONEE APPEARED!

[attr="class","wildshiny"]

[attr="class","wildpkmnbox"]

[attr="class","wildtab"]

It's waiting for me. Zac realized, taking a step towards the ball. He could feel the pokemon inside. Feel it shifting. Restless and eager, but not testing him. 

What are you? Where did you come from? And why aren't you fighting me? All of my other pokemon are so unruly.

Zac thought about his main team:
Shin, the Rhydon, who was always rushing in to even the score.
Kev, the Onix, who grumbled at his plans.
TBD, the Trapinch, who was always coming for his shins with those big jaws.

Zappa. His oldest friend, and yet somehow his least loyal Pokemon. Was it a lack of respect? Did the Heliolisk not see him as a trainer.

Zac walked over to the Pokeball. "Come out." He said, and there was a controlled burts of red light that coalesced into a towering creature.
A beetle stood before him, it's navy shell rimmed with deep shadows. It had hard, honey colored eyes that were level with Zac's, and a protruding horn that reached up to brush the branches above them.

It made no move to fight, or to run away. Why would it, Zac thought. It's my pokemon, right?

"Return!" Zac said, and the Heracross disappeared back into it's faded ball without complaint.

Is this what it feels like to be a trainer? A real trainer? Zac wondered, clutching the ball tight. Is this what it feels like to be in control?

[attr="class","wildbgsaf"]

[attr="class","wildtitle"]A WILD TANGELA APPEARED!

[attr="class","wildshiny"]

[attr="class","wildpkmnbox"]

[attr="class","wildtab"]

Zac retrieved the ball, holding it in his steady hands.
You're a strange one alright. He thought, inspecting the faded sphere. It hadn't been damaged and scuffed from its trip through...time? dreams?... but the ball itself seemed less than real. Not a fragment of imagination, as Zac always thought of pokeballs as vibrant and fresh.

They were the red of a fresh picked apple; lustrous and right off the tree.
Fused with a hemisphere of packed snow, crisp and cold to the touch. That was something Zac had never gotten used to: how pokemon could be so warm and yet their homes were chill metal. 

"Go..." he said, tossing the ball, which bounced, releasing the Heracross before ricocheting back into his hand. Textbook.

He had almost said a name there. A word that was right on his tongue, even now. "...Alcaeus?" The Heracross blinked. not in recognition, but in acknowledgement, as if to say "If that is what you call me."

The beetle stood. Ready and waiting. Not like a soldier, but more akin to a golem. A creature created to serve. 

"What are you?" He asked, his hushed voice battered by the shifting branches and hiding under the decaying leves. 

The Heracross looked at him with those honey colored eyes, and Zac felt the answer. It didn't come from the Heracross, from Alcaeus, just as the creature itself hadn't come from these woods.

The words came from him. He had asked, not knowing what it was he was lacking or who he was asking, only that there was something missing.
For weeks he had been wracked with doubts. A jumbled mess of a dozen self-doubting questions and professional confusion. 

"What am I missing? Should I be doing this? What's wrong? Why don't they listen? Don't they respect me? What do I need to be a real trainer?"

A mess of questions he had never voiced, and then, like some campfire tale, the answer had come to him in a dream. Taken shape and followed him into the waking world. 

"You aren't Alcaeus." Zac realized. The name had sounded right in his head. it had fitted the pokemon. Fitted a different Heracross maybe, but not this one. It was a good name. Strong and ancient, like these woods, but it wasn't correct.

"You are Answer."

[attr="class","wildbgsaf"]

[attr="class","wildtitle"]A WILD NIDORINO APPEARED!

[attr="class","wildshiny"]

[attr="class","wildpkmnbox"]

[attr="class","wildtab"]

Zac shivered. Answer. The name fit.

As he said it, the Heracross shuddered too. Or maybe it was just copying Zac. There was something strange about the pokemon, as if it were a reflection of Zac himself. 

Something rustled in the brush nearby, and a pointy pink pokemon emerged. A Nidorino stumbled out onto the path, sniffing at the air. It saw Heracross and took on a combative stance, hunkering down and jabbing the air with its horn. 

Heracross didn't even turn around, taking no notice of the attacker.

Why isn't he doing anything? Zac thought, with a frown. "Answer. Get that Nidorino." He commanded. "MEGAHORN!"

The beetle spun, pointed hind claws digging deep furrows into the loamy ground as it pushed off, storming towards the enemy. STOMP STOMP STOMP. Answer reached the Nidorino, deflecting its Poison Jab on his navy shell. Heracross got his glowing horn under the little pink pokemon and swung upwards, tossing it into the trees. It struck an oak with a CRUNCH and fell to the ground, limping away. 

Heracross straightened up, turning to look back into Zac's eyes. The beetle was calm, still, waiting for Zac's next command.