There's a strange look in Velmos' eyes, though it doesn't take you long to parse what he wants.

"There's no seconds." You state bluntly, though you do gesture towards your pitiful bowl of pitiful soup. "But if you want my leftovers, then go nuts... As in, you're free to eat them, too."

As it stands, though? You've got plenty to chew on, but little to swallow. Despite your best efforts, you've dredged up plenty of insight into the Megalopolans, and yet more nothing on the Toxic Chain. A dangerous parasite, a whole mob of missing Megalopolans, a plethora of witnesses, and yet, all you've got are theories and conjecture. But despite your ever-building frustrations, there's no more point on probing Velmos over it.

You glance away from the conversation and towards the clock. You've still got a few minutes to burn before you're ready to call it quits. So, might as well indulge a little personal curiosity until the time's up.

"Well, who says you need an Ultra Wormhole? There's Pokemon who can screw around with time and space like that, right?" You ponder aloud, stroking your chin as you do. "Say, Palkia, or Hoopa, or one of those types. Couldn't they just rip open a tear or portal or something and let you all march back at once? Hell, with that kind of power on your side, you could probably even reclaim that Ultra Megalocity of yours, too."

...Well, you doubt Palkia's avatar would ever deign to help Team Rocket's allies, and you don't have the slightest clue of where Hoopa and Kyurem went, but still.

---

shiv

From up high, you have a grand view of the chaotic aftermath of your attack. You watch intently as her rushes about, struggling to steer his steed out of harm's way. His Raging Bolt seems faster than yours, but frailer, too. That tracked. From the brief skim you did of Team Rocket's intel on him, maximising speed seemed to be his MO.

Or, to put it bluntly, this was his gimmick. And while it might've worked against the average gym-goer, it wasn't going to work against you.

"Aqua Jet, now."

Another distorted snarl burst out, and the Walking Wake surges forth upon a road of rushing water. There is no deception, there are no feints. Its path is as straight and narrow as such an unruly move can be, speeding like a bullet to make direct impact against both Josh and his Raging Bolt at once.

Meanwhile, you put one foot in front of the other and start the long walk down from the treeline upon the hill down to the battlefield proper. The ambush is over. Now? It's time for the fight to begin.

---

Josh Devlin

Howard moves fast, but your hand moves faster.

You grab the archaeologist by the neck, tight enough to choke him, but not enough to suffocate. That might seem like a meaningless difference to him, but for you, it's a world of difference. With all the hate burning in your blood and the adrenaline pumping through your veins, it takes tremendous restraint to not crush his windpipe.

And with every second that annalise henderson and june sleigh get further away, your grip on the situation grows looser and tighter at once.

"HOWARD." You snarl, looking him in the eye with barely hidden disdain and undisguised incredulity. "SHE'S ON THE OTHER SIDE. SHE'S AN ENEMY. SHE CHOSE TO BE HERE. SHE TRIED TO FUCKING STAB ME. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"

---

howard slayte

It's been some time since you last interfaced with the "RKS System". Besides a brief incursion when it was first introduced, you've mostly left it be. It's all just roundabout nonsense, isn't it? Like horoscopes and zodiac and shit. You were content to leave it alone and let brighter minds untangle its many, many mysteries.

But in the aftermath of the Silent Icelands, with the prophecies of Kyurem looming large over Hoenn, you've decided to indulge again. Maybe it'll help to shed a little light in the days to come.

Plus, with all the surgeries you've got lined up, it's not like you've got much else to do in the meantime. The alternative is a packed schedule of bed rest, physiotherapy, and medication, and the less of that you have to go through, the better. So, accompanied by THEO BECKETT, you once again find yourself within a simulated universe.

And this one? It's fucking crazy.

You're barely even loaded in, and you're going a hundred miles an hour on some kind of futuristic robo-Cyclizar. Things barely even have the chance to render before Techno Blasts start to rain down upon you.

"SHIT!"

You slam your foot down on (what you think is) the clutch, crank (what you think is) the gearbox as high as it can go, and put the (what you think is) the pedal to (what you can only assume is) the metal.

---

THEO BECKETT

^{Continued from here.}
Your whispers with Lulu Flint are cut short as the votes are tallied and totalled and the results announced: Trust has beaten out selfishness. Neither side has forsaken the other. Both will bear the punishment to come, but they will bear it together.

But it's still a punishment. Your third in however many minutes. The pain, the bruises, the fractures, the blood, they're all still fresh on your body and in your mind. As you're herded onto the platform like cattle, you're barely even able to stand, let alone walk, let alone at any reasonable pace. All you can do is stagger along and keep your balance as the Megalopolans push you forwards, wheezing and coughing and gasping all the while.

It occurs to you that you must seem like the weakest of them all right now. Not just in the ward, but in the whole wide world. But that doesn't matter. You just need to keep going. You need to stay alive.

For her sake.

It's a packed elevator and a long trip down. As you descend, you think you see some familiar shades of hair amidst the dark, lovescorned pink and bitter red and arrogant white and more. But ultimately, it's the virulent green that sparks a reaction, booting you down into the hole below. The penalty for your failure? Clean-up duty. Scrape the filth from the floors until they're spotless. Something you're quite familiar with from your days as a Rocket Grunt. It sounds remarkably easy.

Until the doors slide open, and something emerges.

A creature strangled by Toxic Chains, like a flower ensnared by parasitic vines, lashing out at anything that draws near to it. There's something familiar about it, like you might've seen it before, though you can't place where. In a way, it isn't dissimilar to the ape or the mutt looming above you, but at the same time, it's undeniably different, isn't it?

You don't get much time to scrutinise it, though, before it blindly stomps in your direction. Survival instinct kicks in, and you shove Lulu Flint out of it's path before throwing yourself to the ground, amid the dead and the mochi. Wooden sandals crack hard against your head, then your shoulder, then your back, then your hip, then your knee, then your foot, before finally leaving to stalk another victim.

It hurts. It fucking hurts so goddamn bad. But you can't scream, and you can't suffer. All you can do is quietly pull yourself together and begin to work. You pick and toss the detritus off the floor and towards the bowl. As fast as you can. Before it comes back for a second time.

...A part of you dreads if you'll find any liquid metal or off-red fur among the bodies...

---

s3L_Kp9a
Lulu Flint

Well, it was something.

Not something you can claim you're particularly excited about, mind. If Tera Crystals truly can be made to acquiesce, to bend to the will of an outsider, then you're too late: The Toxic Chain has already taken a hold of them. They're dancing like puppets on strings, just like the Megalopolans, just like you. Even if they weren't, could she manage to sway the fickle power of collective consciousness in her favour? Could you?

A tiny cut on the palm of your hand itches. A bite where you'd held your makeshift knife too tightly. A reminder, however small, of the consequences of failure. The cost of rebellion in all forms. You take a deep breath.

It's not the answer you were hoping for, but it was the only answer you were ever going to get.

"Alr--"

Before you can even begin to reply, you're interrupted by grating barks, grinding machinery, and the shifting of Megalopolans. Whatever you were going to say, it'll have to wait. Your punishment, and surviving it, come first and foremost.

---

Lulu Flint
(CONTINUED IN ROUND 4 OF PRISMATIC PENITENTIARY)

Trading Shred Zeppelin's Gacha Snorlax for Elise Calcifet's Gacha Sableye

You will get through this... You must get through this... You have to get through this...

If not for yourself, then for her.

She has an idea. She doesn't say what it is, but you can see the kaleidoscopic shimmer reflecting in her eyes. It makes sense. After all, Lulu was the one who initially introduced you to the potential of Tera Crystals, wasn't she? Back when you thought they were nothing more than a novel gimmick and a quick buck. Your days of scrounging around caves and tunnels with howard slayte feel so quaint now, don't they? When your biggest enemies were your nictoine addiction and the cost of rent. Now, you stand across from primal and undeniable forces, Space and Envy and Infection and Fire.

Part of you wishes you were back then. Living that carefree life in those days without worry. Though, given where you've found yourself, any time and any place would be better than here and now.

But as much as you'd like to, you can't linger in your memories for long. Not when you can't take Lulu with you.

"The Tera Crystals?" You murmur, though you don't look towards the ceiling. The wound is too raw. It'll only hurt you all the more if you do. Still, you've interacted with them enough to understand what she means. "You think we can summon something to help break us out?"

---

Lulu Flint

To say you're not doing well is the understatement of the century.

You're a wreck of a human being. Your skin is a forest of ash and cinder upon barren earth. Your missing arm aches with phantom pain at memory's slightest provocation. Your eyes... They're so tired. Even when you burn with fury, they never really light up like they used to. And all that? All that was before today.

Rivers of red flood across a graveyard of char. The revenant of your past self is on the brink of being exorcised. If you close your eyes right now, you might never open them again.

And it would be so easy, too. To let them fall. To shut out the world. To let the sun set on Shred Zeppelin, and just...

”Stop.”

You obey. You don't know why. You just do.

”None of it matters now. Now we move forward and stay alive. We figure it out.”

Easy for her to say. Lulu Flint, who has known more than you could ever forget. Lulu Flint, who has survived things even worse than what you've gone through. Lulu Flint, who has solved mysteries the likes of which would've taken you eons to understand. The strong. This intelligent. The beautiful. The wise. She's got everything you don't have, and more besides.

You can't do it. You're supposed to be wild and pure and forever free. Instead, you're chained and tainted and enslaved. How are you supposed to move forward, stay alive, figure it out like this?

”Don’t leave me here.”

...

...

...

Uh oh.

With a groan, you begin the arduous climb back to your feet. It's difficult, with the state you're in. Even breathing, with your bruised ribs and bile-choked throat, is a struggle. The mere act of being is painful. Moving? Is ten times worse. Still, you manage to drag yourself up to your knees. For a moment, you consider trying to rise to your feet, but as soon as that moment passes, you discard the idea outright. No point. Sooner or later, you'll just get tossed back down anyway.

"Alright." You crane your head to look up at your cellmate. Your eyes are defeated. But, they're still open. "I'm here. I'm here with you. And I'll stay here with you until it's all over. I..."

You shouldn't.

"...Promise."

---

Lulu Flint

PURCHASING/REDEEMING

welcome to the poké mart!

1X Premium Gacha - Normal (150 PD)

pkmn-hoenn.boards.net/thread/35215/shreds-gacha?page=2

TOTAL

do come again!

150 PD