Her attitude changed when the newcomer arrived. His tassels were silken. His sheath was well-oiled. His vessel was sufficiently human. There was a subtle shift in the young woman's body language, the tilt of her head, the width of her eyes. "Why hello, stranger," she said in seeming response to Kenjiro Yamada , then squatted down to talk to the Doublade at his side. "What's your name, handsome?"

The simulation started before she could get much further along and "Chryssa" stood up tall again, wanting to make a good impression. The scene cleared, finalizing on one of festivities. She wouldn't recognize it, but this was the Slateport Night Market. The chill in the air sent goosebumps up her arms and legs. The simulation was set in January, on the cusp of the New Year.

What's going on?

Despite having turned down the offer to join his team, the young woman found herself eavesdropping on an excited priam conrad , who seemed to know the most out of anyone what the challenges ahead would be. She glanced at Alexandra Briarwood . "Did you hear all that?" she asked quietly. "I wonder how accurate that is..." Her protective shield strategy wouldn't go very far against something shooting 'literal nukes.'

Another issue tugged at her mind-- the crowd. With all these people here, it would be easy to lose her two teammates if the festivalgoers panicked and started running. "I didn't bring a flying Pokemon, so I'm going to try and get somewhere higher up in case there's a stampede," she said, edging around a passerby who seemed eager to reach the yakisoba stall. She saw a fire escape near one of the buildings and pushed her way towards it. "If we get separated, shoot some kind of light like a flare up so we can find each other."

Though the Underboss's birthday was incorrect as far as the password went, the young woman known as Chryssa Glasgow memorized it anyway. October 28. If we make it out of this, I'll get him a gift.

Simultaneously, a few password tries later, the door and shutter opened.

She jumped at the sound, grabbing for the next closest person. She found Zac Ramsay , who'd come to try his hand at the wiring. "Thank Arceus you're here," she breathed at the sight of him, loosening her grip. What a reliable person...

She ignored the derisive whisper that seemed to undermine her every thought because something was coming through the door. Her hand slapped uselessly against her hip for her sword and found nothing to defend herself with. At the same time, the tingle of a memory returned to her, like a waking moment between dreams.

The edge of her blade, sliding quickly past skin and flesh. Blood welling up, bright and beaded. Palms, grasped. Promises exchanged.

Before slipping into the "Birthday" room behind Felix Gallagher and BARNABY FINCH , she hung behind for a moment, hesitating. Knowing it was probably folly, she looked for any sign of a scar on Chu-e Choi 's hand. Perhaps it would be possible to see it while he was patting the girl who'd run to him.

I can't remember...

The "Birthday" room was dark. But what had been here was now out there, and that made this place safe. For now.

So what's on the menu?

The thought was more obtrusive than most and she heeded it, crossing over to read the list of items on the board. Was it standard to have a menu at a birthday party, or had this actually been a restaurant?  Where are we?

She didn't mind being in the dark. There was comfort in not knowing. But half-light, half-real, half-drawn-- those things terrified her, for they offered a glimpse at truths too terrible to comprehend. 

She grabbed unconsciously for Cillian Quinn, who'd been looking through the window before her. 

"Did you see that?!"

...It's someone's birthday!

She backed away, stepping through the metallic-smelling puddle. "Something's here." Her voice felt raspy and she tried to clear it, to raise it so people might actually pay attention to her. Chryssa had always been good at commanding the attention in a room. In this atmosphere of fear and mistrust, however, it was easy to discount the words of a stranger. "On the other side of the door. I could... see its eyes glowing." It's coming, she thought, but didn't say it out loud. It's coming for us. 

Panic was the last thing they needed. They needed order. They needed action.

The light of the monitor showed where Martín del Mar and Razz Kingsman were busy trying to guess an unknown password. "We might need to hurry that along," the young woman said from behind them, soft but urgent. "Something's coming. Is anyone good with electronics?" she raised her voice to include the rest of the room, nudging the electrical panel beneath the device.

Perhaps Chryssa's experience with all the unique technology in the Radio Tower could help, but she had another idea. She had caught a glimpse of the 'user' field. Astral-blue eyes returned to the blonde Underboss.

"When's your birthday?" she asked, and nodded at the screen. 

Halls of perfectly-trimmed hedges stretched out in all directions, coiling and curling in on themselves. As she approached the maze, the unofficial Chryssa Glasgow was reminded of a great serpent, its body a mass of corners and cruel angles. 

She was here to test herself today, and she clutched the scrap of paper in her hand a tiny boy with a shaved head and a crimson sarong on the road had sold to her. He'd told her in deep, resonant tones that it would be the key to her success in the labyrinth ahead, and she had no reason to think he would lie. Until proven otherwise, anyone could be a secret roadside guru. 

As the young woman reached the first split in the path, she muttered the "pass phrase" under her breath. "Scarlet... scarlet... scarlet..."

She held up the slip of paper like it would light her path, trusting in the stranger's words. Did it seem to tug left in her hands, or was it just the wind?

Chryssa opened her eyes, a callback ringing through her mind.

I'm only here to assuage my guilt in the unfortunate incident that destroyed this church...

She opened her eyes. She'd been in the dark for a long time. She'd noticed earlier, but old habits died hard. It was easier to be like a sword in a scabbard, dormant, waiting to be drawn.

...So when the world drew her, she emerged from her pod like a ghost from a casket, like a maiden from a marriage bed, like a song from a broken egg. She rose to her feet, a strange feeling of displacement twisting in her gut.

Make a dramatic entrance...

She didn't want to. She wanted to carve through a sky full of eyes without fear for her living body. She wanted to excel. She wanted to be better.

The young woman felt at her hip for her weapon, but found none. The feeling of sickness intensified. I'm alone, she thought. Then--

Are you really? she thought back.

Chryssa's eyes tugged to the four Augurs, once united by the Destiny Bond from Muir's blade. The Bond had shattered, but their keepers remained. Red, Locke Jamison . White, luka chêne . Black, Martín del Mar . 

It wasn't a question of what it meant. It was clear they had some destiny to fulfill. Once, that might have stirred rebellion in Chryssa's mind. Now, she felt only a mild interest, as if from a casual reader who wanted to know what happened on the next page. 

Trying to brush off lingering doubts, she stood up and crossed the crowded room, leaving footprints in the red liquid Cefin Glynn was examining before standing up on her tiptoes to check the room beyond. Her breath coalesced on the dim window. 

"You can chat among yourselves," her voice came, somber and detached. "But I'd keep your panic down. Those who crack now will be the first to fall." She glanced back at Summer Atreides and nagi miwa.

"And those who falter—" A small, too-bright smile appeared on Chryssa's face. "—will be the first to crack." 

She was relieved when the announcement cut her conversation with priam conrad short, saving her from further probing.

Blue eyes narrowed as the young woman accepted the Focus Band without complaint. Her expression showed no fear, only caution. It would be reckless to willingly invite real-world  injuries just to prove her commitment. Her eyes darted to either side as she heard other Rocket members refusing the bands from the Porygon-2.

Did I make a mistake?

...No. She had to be sure of herself. Taking unnecessary risks at the cost of her body wasn't either of their styles.

There was no future for those who didn't know to survive where they could. 

"Thanks," she said, turning to Priam. It pained her to say, but she wasn't here to take the easy road and fall back on Chryssa's reputation to make allies. "But I'd like to test how I work with different types of people." Awkward. "I'll be counting on your help in the future, though. It was... nice to have a warm welcome." 

Looking a little uncomfortable, the impostor made her way back into the crowd, seeking out the intimidating, heavily-armed presence who'd greeted her earlier. "I'm interested in teaming up," she said to The Fixer as she arrived, getting straight to the point. She gave a nod to the tough-looking woman with the Arcanine ( yoshiro shioda ) he'd clearly been speaking to. "Are either of you looking for a partner?"

Her Honedge hung at her hip, inert and unmoving. She made no move to summon any other Pokemon. And she did not look up at the observation deck, where eyes upon eyes sought to bind her with a dead girl's name.

...After both Rockets politely declined, she found herself on her own again, lost in a sea of strangers. Aware the pool of potential allies was rapidly narrowing, she approached a dangerous-looking woman standing by herself. She didn't specifically recognize Alexandra Briarwood, Rocket's newest Beast. She just saw a choice between failure and success, a person who looked like she wouldn't have to worry about if things got deadly.

Perhaps she was just drawn to people with power. It came from being powerless for so long.

"We haven't met, have we?" she asked, just to make sure she hadn't failed to recognize the redhead. "I'm looking for a partner for the exam." Quickly, because she'd already been rejected by more experienced members, she added "I won't get in your way."

A young woman who was not quite Chryssa Glasgow stood at the base of the Oldale Plum Tree, the largest living remnant of the Vital Spirit Festival which had been held in this very place one year before.

Neither she nor her namesake had been there at the time, though Chryssa had enjoyed watching a livestream of the frenzied Tapu Bulu from the safety of her hospital bed in Ever Grande. Still, the sight of the great tree, grown from splintered wood and scattered seeds, inspired awe even in a stranger. High above, its branches were just beginning to bud with beads of carmine.

"You're up there, aren't you?" The stranger's voice carried up from the ground. "They say you've been inside there, hibernating. Can you hear me? I have to talk to you." 

She waited for a time, and when there was no response, the young woman squared her shoulders. She drew the Honedge at her side, though the blade was dull.

Then she began to climb. 

The old, weathered face felt like a cliff wall, but her feet found footholds in knobs and grooves within the bark. She used Honedge like a knife, digging it into the tree above and hauling herself up arm-by-arm. "How did you even get up here?" she panted, balancing on a low bough and fumbling with her free hand for the rim of the hollow where Zac slept.

She managed to pull her chin up and over the edge, standing on the bending blade of her sword. She could see the two of them now, huddled together like sleeping  owls in the same nest. "Now will you listen? Wake up, please. This is important. I need your help, Zac Ramsay ."

The fact that the name wasn't prefaced by an insult said more than anything else.