[attr="class","nikita"]Outside of the illusion, his Intelleon patrolled a series of rock spires. Her nimble footing and invisibility allowed her to do with a high degree of subtlety. With no vocal box to speak of, her approach was silent. Water swirled at the tip of her finger, ready to unleash a punishing missle at any would-be assailant.

With his notes scribbled onto his secured tablet, Nikita followed a few paces behind. His gun rested idly in his fingertips, a finger posed on the safety. “Most people would be curious, Monsieur Benoit.” A salt-and-pepper brow jerked upward. “Do you not wonder what wisdom the ancients bestowed” The detective scoffed.

Suddenly, a powerful burst of water rocketed past them into a scraggy area ahead. It revealed a gleaming web of electricity—almost invisible in the sunlight.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"]Thomas Benoit

[attr="class","nikita"]The detective shook his head. “It is nowhere near that exotic, I assure you.” It was merely a promise of great riches for the one who reunited him and his Stunfisk. Not something he was overly interested in him. That was not to say he did not appreciate the diversion—merely that the chase was the goal. At the talk of Meteno, the detective scoffed.

“Even a broken clock is right twice a day, Mister Benoit.” He believed in many things. But fate? That some god had a purpose for blowing his house up and killing almost everyone in it? Bullshit. Even with all his knowledge—years of studying the human mind—he was surprised at every turn. To think that everything could be predicted made it all so meaningless.

All the pain he caused. The blood that stained his hands, unseen but ever-present. It was just a silly bit in someone’s grand design. Each movement of those trapped on it is as useless as impactful as the slightest tremor of a Galvantula’s web. One not unlike what stood before him. The droplets from his Intelleon’s attack reflected the sparks beautifully. “Quite likely.”

The man’s tired eyes narrowed. He had no doubt that other obstacles awaited them—some far more dangerous than others. “It would be a shame to keep them waiting.” Brushing aside what remained of the web, he pushed deeper into the kill zone.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"]Thomas Benoit

[attr="class","nikita"]The elder man chuckled. A sound many found more terrifying than the rage that sometimes filled his expression. “It is, unfortunately, neither.” Even if the tomb held untold treasures, they would not turn the tides of this battle. A thrown idol could only distract one man. Selling or bartering one would not keep you safe. Still, it offered something that might later grease the wheels of commerce. “I will keep track of the grave’s location, however.”

Nikita’s reedy shoulders lifted in a shrug. “The past was likely as mad as the present. One can only guess.” While he was glad the region had not been destroyed, he sometimes wondered about the cost of that safety. While not a bleeding heart—by any stretch of the imagination—the destruction that likely resulted was difficult to ignore.

The walk here had been far too peaceful. A thing that stroked his inner cynic—as if quiet was something that must be balanced. Some part of him was almost relieved when the enemy appeared. The tension in his shoulders flowed into action and lightning-fast calculations. Like Thomas, he took shelter behind a rock. A handgun appeared in his hands, freshly loaded and ready to shoot.

“I am counting on it.” As the Galvantula fired, Nikita’s eyes narrowed at their enemy. “Anne.” Shaking off her camouflage, the Intelleon vanished in a burst of air. Her Acrobatics slammed into the bug shortly after the Zoroark’s attack, knocking the sparking bug from its perch.

Shadows appeared as a Toucannon and Bombirdier appeared above them. A rainbow beak began to glow as the Toucannon aimed a Beak Blast at the downed Zoroark. The second announced its presence with a Rock Slide aiming to bury its opponents in stone.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"]Thomas Benoit

[attr="class","nikita"]As chaos rages around them, Nikita’s eyes begin to roam the clearing. It is a sign of how much he trusts his own Pokemon. He is searching for broken branches and stray fabric. These Pokemon are likely under some Rocket’s command, and they would not be far. After all, if they intended interrogation, they would need to know the trap had sprung.

Unfortunately, he finds nothing before the Rock Slide turns the place into a hazard zone. Gently rebuffing Thomas’s grasp, Nikita is teleported out of the way by his beloved companion. With narrowed eyes, he turns to his faithful hound. “Find them.” With a rattle of bones, the dog disappears to do exactly that.

With a surprised squawk, the Toucannon crashes into the ground. Breathless and stunned, it stares up at the skies for a moment before turning to the Weavile. Temporarily robbed of its flight abilities, it spits out a nasty, globular chunk of poison at the dark type’s back. But this is not enough to prevent its ally from falling in a storm of red-stained feathers and icicle spears.

Behind Thomas, a strange tree springs to life. The Sudowoodo’s spots glow briefly as it looses a Power Gem at the bodyguard. “Move!” Nikita shouts as movement catches his eyes. His gun is useless against stone. A new Pokemon joins them—a glowing, shifting Nihelego.

Above them, Anne and the Galvantula are engaged in battle. Now on the ground, and hurting, the bug is turning desperate. The sparking of numerous electric attacks gave the lizard ample warning to evade. Drawing close enough to strike, the Intelleon fires off a Hydro Pump at point-blank range. It coincides with an electric burst from the spider. The combination of the two sends all the electricity back at it.

Steaming and twitching, the spider falls to the ground. Slowly, its limbs stiffen and curl inward. The Electro Web’s sparks die off with their creator, allowing the Zoroark free. Without a second glance at the corpse, Anne moved to return to the fray. But this plan ends as a Seismotoad lumbers into view. Its languid, almost perverse grin makes even the stalwart lizard shudder.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"]Thomas Benoit

[attr="class","nikita"]The tree’s fight seems to leave him as the bug turns toward it. With a jump, it tries to scramble out of the way. Its stubby legs collapse as it picks up speed, Fake Tears pours from its beady eyes, splattering the ground with wetness. leaving the rock at the mercy of the steel bug’s blows. After the second hit, it begins to fight back. Its legs lash out in an attempt at a Low Kick.

Dancing idly through the air, the Nihelego draws closer to the thrashing Sudowoodo. Its bonnet undulates as if contemplating the sight before it. In mannerism, it resembles an art critic at an exhibit, judging the squabbling with a detached air. With a few pumps of its tentacles, it moves to hover over the rock type’s head. Transparent limbs fill with void as it Wraps its tentacles around the false tree’s head. Its neurotoxins work their magic and drain the creature of its fight. Now inky, the tentacles drift back. For a moment, the Ultra Beast ‘stares’ at the Scizor.

The Toucannon takes the opportunity to breathe. The Weavile’s temporarily disabled state gives it a moment to shake its head and evaluate the damage. Powerful wings spread as it gives a few testing flaps. Just as it takes to the sky, the Weavile turns back and unleashes its icicle spears. Its upward movement drives its breast right into the ice type’s range. The spear passes right through its heart. When it falls to the ground, dead, its expression is one of surprise.

Blade-like leaves slice heavily into the Seismotoad’s back. POP! One of its nodules bursts open with a cascade of white mud. With a slow, lumbering shift, the beast turns to face the Decidueye. Taking the opportunity, the Intelleon dodges around the beast. Its water attacks are useless. Clapping the Decidueye on the shoulder, she returns to her trainer’s side.

A hand points through the glade toward the hidden entrance to the camp While she was tempted to kill the ambushers herself, she knew such decisions were best left to humanity.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"]Thomas Benoit

[attr="class","nikita"]Webbed fingers irritably beat away the last few leaves from the initial attack. All over the frog’s body, leaves stuck out like shards of broken glass. The Seismotoad prepared to strike back with a powerful ground-type move, but it didn’t even get the chance to use it. One storm of green is immediately replaced with another. A vicious, heavy-handed tactic like this—especially from a leaguer—catches the normally chill amphibian off guard. “!?”Verdant leaves drew red as the Razor Leaf again hit its mark. With a surprised croak, the water-ground type collapsed to its knees.

For a moment, an uneasy silence reigned. The opponents lay dismembered or mindless before the men. What began as an ambush had twisted into a slaughterhouse.

Like a gourmand, the Nihelego took some time to contemplate its supper. As chaos reigned around it, the jellyfish hovered idly in place. Its gaze remained fixated on an empty patch of rock in the distance. Even the detective’s supreme deduction abilities could not decipher it. “. . .” When the group set off toward the Rocket hideaway, the poison type seemed not to notice at first. Instead, it swirled slowly in its spot like a music box ballerina. Then, as if pushed by a wind, it began to slowly drift after them. Its billowing limbs only paused to draw almost tender lines across the twitching Seismotoad beneath it. A haunting hum emerged as it advanced toward the crevasse in the stone.

As Thomas advanced, Nikita followed. His handgun was pulled from its holster. A single nod followed—there were times when it was best to let a master do his work. “We have your six.” Pausing at a cover point, Nikita could not stop himself from making an observation, “I cannot help but think you have done this before, Mister Benoit.” The man moved with the assurance of a predator. Those eyes held a familiar fire—one that spoke of fearless burning.

The pair drew even with the crack in the wall. With a deep breath, Nikita turned to his Houndstone. “Winters.” With a clattering nod, the dog vanished into the rocky outcropping. A sudden chill followed.

That’s when the screaming started.

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"]Thomas Benoit