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Alexei wasn’t watching where he was going, his thoughts swept up in a multitude of—things.

There were so many things he had to consider, like contacting the supplier down at the Soda Pop house down at Slateport, and then checking if he could have a continuous supply sent up to Fortree. Considering the logistics of so many things at once was so—alarming, confusing all at once, however—

Due to getting so absorbed with thinking, he didn’t realize he’d bumped into someone.

However, that someone was—

“A—Archie?” he stammered, blinking a few times. “It’s—it’s a surprise seeing you here.”

Of course, due to him being so distracted with other things, he’d failed to notice that this man was not the same one he’d encountered down at the beach some time ago.

“You—you dyed your fringe?” he asked again, blinking and taking him in properly before reaching out to gently touch the now-black hair he was seeing.

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Alexei blinked a few times, confused. Wait a second, what was he on, why was he suddenly saying all this—

“Archie, what the—what are you saying?” he continued, blinking a few times in confusion at the sudden demeanor change. Surely the other wasn’t playing hot potato with him right now, what the hell was going on—

“Come on, you’re… you’re kidding me, right? What’s with the ‘tough guy’ act?” he continued, hand still outstretched, so very close to touching the now-black hair. He distinctly remembered the shock of white hair up front, and—

“No, really. Archie, what’s going on? Why are… why are you so angry at me all of a sudden?” he went on, feeling his throat go dry. Shit, what was happening? Surely the guy wasn’t going apeshit or something?

Oh, Alexei, if only he knew.

“I thought you—look, have you… have you been drinking again?” he tried once more, fingertips barely touching the now-black hair the other man had.

Either this was a very bad joke the other man was pulling off on him right now, or he was legitimately seeing a doppelganger in front of him at the moment. He couldn’t tell which.

“You—you can drop the angry act n-now,” he ended quietly, his other hand very hesitantly touching him on the shoulder.

“It’s… it’s scaring me.”

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What—

What?

His mind had gone blank for the briefest of moments, unable to believe what he was hearing. Wait a second, what was going on—

“Y-Y-You can’t be… serious,” he breathed out before he felt cold metal pressing against his neck. Wait, what—against his neck?! “A-A-Archie, what—what are you saying—“

Maybe he was going in too fast, too soon. With panic clouding his reasoning, it was clear Alexei was losing his head at that very moment.

“You can’t d-d-d-do th-that now, c-can you?” he went on, trying to control himself… at least until the sharp stench of iron hit his nostrils.

Oh, shit.

The scent of blood makes him panic even more—there was a reason he kept that secret to himself for so long. Nobody else knew—only his sisters did. Even then, it was a closely-guarded secret that he chose not to reveal to anyone outside of family.

A secret that may become his undoing.

“Why… why are you hurting me, l-l-like this?” he gasped out, panic getting the better of him as the smell of iron thickened the air, his own panic rooting him to the spot.

Was he leading himself to his own undoing? He had no idea. What was the possibility of him surviving this—this encounter?

He had no knowledge whatsoever.

All that was certain was that the fear was thick in the air, only getting worse the more he picked up on the smell of blood—Alexei didn’t know it was his blood, but still.

“Arch—ie. Please, please—stop this…” he whimpered, unable to break away from the terrifying gaze the man in front of him was casting on him.

“You—you’re n-not a murderer, are you…”

A moment of clarity hit him, right then and there. Daring to look down, past the red that was slowly staining his clothes, he realized—

It was too late when he noticed it. That there was something decidedly off about the other.

His terror had him rooted to the spot—if he so much dared as moved a single inch, who knew how much deeper the metal that was digging into his skin would go. He stood there, paralyzed with fear, unable to move; much less run away.

A trembling hand then reached up to where he could feel the metal pressing into his skin, his flesh, himself—an attempt to pull the suffocating presence away.

Not like this.

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So many things were running through his head at that moment.

Now that he’s been backed into a corner, the more obvious the smaller details are—while this…this man shared a lot of physical characteristics with Archie, a few things stood out to him particularly.

For one thing…

“If—if he has secrets… to hide, th-then, I believe…. He-he would reveal them. I-in time,” he began, the edge of panic still clearly in his voice.

“E-everyone has th-their secrets,” he added a few moments later. “And… I a-also noticed something. A-a-about you.”

Shit, where was he getting the courage from?!

The stench of blood hung thick in the air, and yet he forced himself to go on.

“If—if you were r-r-really him, really Arch—ie, y-y-you’d have called me by my name the moment I called you. You—you haven’t.”

What a time to get a smart mouth, Alexei! What fucking time. Teetering right on the edge of death, and this happened now?

“S-so. Humor me, t-then,” he went on, tasting blood in the back of his mouth but forcing himself to blot it out, to hone in on the present, the right now.

“Who…who are you. Why. Why—why do you look like…like him.”

Like… my Archie? he finished the rest of the sentence in the back of his head.

Both of his hands were now trying to move the blade away from his skin, however he wasn’t sure if he could throw the other off him if worse came to worse.

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As it was, Alexei’s been rattled so much the way the words sink in differently as he tried to comprehend what was going on.

It was pure, unadultered terror that kept him locked onto the spot. His struggling with the blade digging into his neck resulted with said blade cutting his fingers open.

More red poured out of the cuts across his fingers before his balance shifted, the strange man’s words sinking in as he found himself on the ground. He thought the madness had already ended, however—

That reprieve was not to be.

Another sharp, stabbing pain tore through him, and the glint of metal caught his eye as he turned to trace where the knife had pierced through his right hand, and left in there.

The knife had been left there!

The fear and terror that had bubbled up inside him had rendered him temporarily mute—much as he wanted to scream he couldn’t. The only thing he could do was watch in silent horror as his wallet was found, taken, thumbed through—

Not the wallet!

The attempt to kick the other man had resulted in another burning, stabbing pain that forced him to stop struggling as he began to feel light-headed. How much blood had he lost at this point?

He didn’t know.

His left hand scrambled over his jacket, fumbling through the pockets he could easily reach, before a random Pokéball was pulled out, fingers clumsily slipping over the release mechanism.

A one in two chance—

A blue-plumed Braviary burst out of the beam of red light. The avian let out a cry of alarm at the sight, spreading its wings out of surprise before the same fumbling fingers attempted to pull at a chain around his neck.

Black spots dancing across his field of vision before he pulled out a thin whistle and attempted to blow a singular note, then pointing at the darkening sky.

“G-get…help,” he managed to choke out before the overwhelming taste of rust coated his mouth and darkness took him.