Isaac's protests sounded like baggage Zev did not want to deal with in that moment. His short reel of patience — which normally did not encompass imparting life lessons onto impressionable, younger criminals — was already at its end, at any rate. He merely continued to smile that hollow smile at Isaac.

"What makes family so different, anyway?"

Nothing, actually. Nothing at all. Family, friends, lovers, even colleagues like Isaac himself — they were all just things. Tools. Zev remembered, in that briefest of moments, the last argument he'd had with his brother three years ago. Caleb's expression of fury and disbelief had etched itself into Zev's memory. It was the first time, for as long as they'd been alive, that Caleb had defied him.

"You made me into this — this — prisoner, didn't you? Everything I am, everything I've done, it's because of this cage you built around me. And I didn't see any of it until it was too late!"

"You're right," Zev said at last to Isaac. His smile had faded, his expression having settled into callous indifference once again. "Family, friends. They're all the same."

Calmly, he reached for a Pokéball at his belt and released his Xatu, whose sole chirp echoed in the uneasy silence of the clearing. "Xatu will teleport us to Slateport City. I believe you have a delivery to make there." He paused, then said with neither mockery nor goodwill, "Good luck with your scars."

Isaac Merlo

NOTES
+ Mission: The Hounds of Oldale