As the air grew static, and the Iron Bundle aware of his presence, Cillian’s words rang in Grigori’s ears. In the heat of the moment, the idea had evacuated itself from his mind like he the safety of their cover. “R-right!”

But first, not die. An Iron Bundle had locked on and gathered energy into its mouth. He dashed back just as an Ice Beam tore through the spot he’d just been. The chill it left in its wake quickly vanished, taken up by the fires from Scizor. His free hand pulled up the Poke Ball and called back the Scizor.

He left the grunt a furious, hellish glare on the way back, one that filled him with sudden regret and doubts.

They all faded when the sky exploded. His vision went pure white, and reality itself disappeared. he couldn’t even hear the destruction of the Iron Bundle in one clean, efficient attack. There had been too much water, and thus they were all subjected to the raw electricity that tore the cavern asunder.

Grigori thought he fell. He couldn’t tell. The seconds passed, and his eyes took long, arduous seconds to readjust. His ears didn’t. As suspected, though, the threat had been finally neutralized. His heart raced, but they were now safe. For the time being.

Something burned. Flesh? He sniffed– it was close. Why did his hand hurt? He looked down and–

Grigori screamed deeply and dropped the smoking ball at the same moment. The ball was literally red-hot, and vapor poured from the seems of the ball. That wasn’t good. Bad. Fear returned to his mind, even if the auditory information didn’t.

“Oh no,” Grigori untapped the power of the mega band. Its power left without fanfare, and he couldn’t feel the thrum of its energy. “Mr. Quinn, please, I need assistance!”

---

Cillian Quinn
TOTAL: 713
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The Life Dew helped against the raw, burnt flesh. Not enough to call him as good as new, but it no longer felt like his skin was aflame. Now, it throbbed endlessly on a fixed rhythm. A pulse filled to the brim with pain and misery. Grigori held his wrist with his good hand and breathed deeply.

The ball does not see any signs of change with the Life Dew. Even as the Shaymin sacrificed itself, its only known purpose in life, the ball only ceased to smolder like charcoal in a fire pit. It kept its fiery glow and showed no signs of decreased temperature.

At least Grigori heard Cillian’s most recent words, the first good thing to happen in the last minute. He nodded to the quiet words, on instinct, and tried to grab the ball with his good hand.

“Agh!” The ball clattered against the cavern floor again. Still too hot to handle. How was he supposed to help?

He looked to his vest, and gave it a quick feel. Thick. Hopefully heat-resistant. He braced the fabric and gripped the top. The grunt pulled once, twice, and it gave on the third attempt. Black fabric split at the seams, until he reached the bottom. It looked like he’d been in a violent mauling.

Not very far off. Once more, Grigori reached for the Scizor’s ball. Heat radiated through the fabric and to his hand, but not enough to burn. Some part of him wished it did, so he could bear some of the struggle. 

“Please rest easy, Scizor, help is on the way…” he struggled to his feet.

Heavy steps carried him out of the cavern, up its steep slope. Guilt clung to him, alongside the sweat, while he beat himself up and put one foot in front of the other.

---

Cillian Quinn
TOTAL: 661
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