As you wander the floor of the Casino Starlight in search of a bar, you're left to ponder the spectacle of the venue. It's all pretty snazzy, isn't it? Baubles and tinsel and fir trees aside, it's massive, well-staffed, and just generally expensive-looking. And it probably rakes in cash like nobody's business, too! Must be nice, being rich. The owner of this joint is probably swimming in money and poor people's tears. How much tax is this place avoiding, anyway? It's gotta be--

"GAH!" You flinch as a Poipole floats up to you, only to let your guard down as you realise that you recognise the creature. "Oh, hey. It's you. Penrose, right?"

"what a fantastic creature (°〇°)" Meltan reacts with amazement upon seeing the alien, eye wide with wonder. Leaning forth, a metal hand waves furiously, before reciprocating the offered hi-five. "hello friend!"

...Wait, does this mean Lulu Flint is here? That thought is enough to make you straighten up a little. Given how she reacted to the prospect of a week off, you really weren't expecting her to make time to be here. She's actually here? Like, here here? Like, physically here in the building? Like, she's--

"GAH!" For a second time in about a minute, you're caught off-guard by a familiar face. Xenon Antheil is as loud and abrasive and obnoxious as ever, if not moreso than usual. But, well, she is the only surviving Shredette, so you suppose there are worse people to drink with. Still, did she really have to drag you over like that? "Watch it, Xenon! It took the barber four hours to get my hair like this, and I swear, if you mess it up..."

You trail off as you glance around the present company. Unsurprisingly, you don't know most of the faces around you, but your eyes linger on Yumi Hasegawa for a moment. You're getting the weirdest sense of deja vu, like you've seen her before somewhere, but where...? Eh, who knows. Maybe your brain is just that fucked up. Or maybe you aren't fucked up enough? Both strong possibilities.

"...Look, if you're going to drag me over here, the least you can do is get me a drink, you weirdo."

---

DRIP
TL;DR - Shred complains about rich people, recognises the presence of Lulu at the function, is harassed by Xenon, and suffers vague memories of July 8th 2023 at 2:10AM.

Where are you supposed to find a sect of rogue aliens hidden in the caves beneath Hoenn? It's a needle in a haystack, that much is for sure. The only reason you found them in the first place is because the Bloodmoon Beast ended up leading you right to them. But if they're hiding underground and disguising themselves as humans, then what're the odds you'll be able to find them again? Very, very low.

But, not zero. After all, this is Hoenn you're talking about, a region full of unlikely coincidences and crazy odds. You don't know how you'll track them down, but you're sure you'll figure something out. Worst comes to worst, you'll just get lucky.

"I'll work on it."

General Velmos, huh? Is he one of those DRK Triad weirdoes everyone is so paranoid about? She said his name like you should know it. You'll have to skim back through your emails, see if you missed any memos about that. Whatever the case, if he knows about where the Megalopolans are, then he seems like the most tempting lead you've got.

"I'll start on the heavy lifting, lay some groundwork, see if I can't pull a few strings and get things going. Meanwhile, you can spend your week..." You begin, only to pause. From behind your sunglasses, your eyes narrow a little, as though trying to divine whatever Lulu might be thinking. Then, your tone shifts. "...Days off doing some heavy thinking. How long do you think that'll take you? Two? Three days?"

---

Lulu Flint

It was madness.

It was akin to a shootout between the police and gangsters, or cowboys and bandits, or a random selection of Christmas shoppers and two penguins. Pumps and Beams and Gleams and Bolts flew, with both sides scrambling to hastily dodge the attacks of the other. There were many casualties. What could be done against such senseless violence...?

Well, Protect. That was perhaps the only bright idea John Sullivan had had all day, and it spared him from the fire both enemy and friendly. He had successfully maintained what little dignity he had left.

Everyone else, though? It was like a warzone. Two Thunderbolts, one from Hyakkaryōran Tsubaki's Nihilego and the other from Elise Calcifet's Mismagius, both launched forth, and forced the Iron Bundles to scramble and dodge. In doing so, their eyes were diverted from the Dazzling Gleam sent forth by Jack Napier's Gardevoir, preventing them from being flashbanged. However, they failed to account for Momo Sakai's Rotom, whose Discharge sent electricity through both of them, a jolt that did not do lasting damage, but certainly left them stunned for a moment.

Likewise, Momo Sakai's Cherrim used Sunny Day in an attempt to change the weather, which worked for a few seconds, before the weather abruptly changed back to snow. Clearly, she wasn't the only one with a vested interest in the weather. Somewhere, there was an Abomasnow working very hard to maintain the festive atmosphere, and he'd be damned if he let it slip.

The two Iron Bundle's had been split up, but they were still united in purpose. As the smaller Iron Bundle's beak began to whir and widen, the larger would provide a Helping Hand, empowering his ally. Thus, a powerful Beak Blast would be unleashed, like a tank shell being launched right into the centre of the party!

---

The next deadline is for 8PM GMT, 10th December 2023.
Hyakkaryōran Tsubaki Elise Calcifet Jack Napier Momo Sakai John Sullivan

Obliging their trainers, both Gengar and Lopunny left, running after the train. Would their efforts succeed? Or would they come up short in stopping the runaway railcar? Only time would tell, but for now, there were far more pressing matters to attend to.

Such as stopping the Iron Bundle from using its Z-Crystal.

Some tried to steal the crystal before it could be activated. schuyler tate attempted to outwit the malicious machine, using Ditto-Bundle’s Present to distract it while Goodra attempted to Shadow Sneak it away. Alas, the aforementioned Present did nothing but burst into streamers and confetti, and though it was programmed to do many things, being surprised was not one of them. So, despite their best efforts, the Goodra could not loosen the dangerous gemstone from the penguin’s trap-like grip

trinity beckman tried a similar approach, except with a Hisuian Zoroark and a Flinging Cubone, and achieved similar results. Alas, chunks of rock and broken baubles did not prove the most effective projectiles, and certainly not enough to loosen its iron grip. Thus, much like Goodra, Zoroark failed in its thieving mission.

Others, perhaps fuelled by irritation, took a more direct approach - They simply had to knock out the Iron Bundle before it could do anything else. Both robin coello’s Snorlax and virgil roach’s Cubone attacked the Iron Bundle directly, hitting it hard enough to knock it off its perch and send it flying into the air. Even still, it did not let go.

Finally, luka chêne’s Sylveon launched forth a last resort Springtide Storm, the strength of the winds sending the Paradox Pokemon flying high into the air. But that, too, wasn’t enough. All of their efforts had failed. While they had done some good damage to the Iron Bundle, denting its exoskeleton and exposing the intricate machinery underneath, they had not disabled it. So, there was nothing left to stop it.

It crushed the crystal in its flipper, and in an instant, it radiated such intense Z-Power that it was akin to a reactor of pure energy. Its LED eyes glowing with killing intent, showing such pure loathing for those that stood in its way. Then, it unleashed its Z-Move.

Blows fell down like comets. Each thrust of its arm and kick of its leg sent down a frigid blast of pure force. It was a veritable hailstorm of attacks, a blizzard of sheer violence, and it was all directed at them.

Z-MOVE: SEASON’S BEATINGS

---

The next deadline is for 8PM GMT, 10th December 2023.
schuyler tate robin coello luka chêne virgil roach trinity beckman

"Dross? Who the hell is Dross?"

Seriously, does he just assume you know everything that happens in Team Rocket? You're a grunt, they don't tell you shit! But then, if the gym leader and "AQUA" member doesn't even know, then... Holy shit, this is REALLY bad. If the raging storm around you didn't clue you into that, then his reaction certainly did.

Cursing under your breath, you manage to send out your Golurk. The sheer weight of the stone construct causes the metal floor to groan beneath their feet, as though it might collapse under the pressure. Fortunately, it doesn't, and you manage to find your balance long enough to lurch over to it and clamber up onto its sturdy shoulders.

WARNING: Atmospheric conditions highly unstable. Staying outside presents a high risk of death, especially given our current location. RECOMMENDATION: It would be wise to retreat to the mainland for shelt--

"JUST SHUT UP AND FLY!"

Golurk complies. Its legs shift into rockets and propel you straight upwards, just in time to avoid the Origin Pulse that crashes into a Sea Mauville. The entire platform shakes from the force of the blast, but thankfully, it doesn't sink. But if it gets hit by another one? You aren't so sure. Tanking one of those hits had to have caused some structural damage, and if another one hits it while its in an even worse state? It's going to the bottom of the ocean.

Well, at the very least, you're not standing on it anymore, but still.

"Fucking hell..."

---

Navy

You're not much of a Christmas guy. After all, you grew up poor, you haven't talked to your family in decades, you don't have many friends, you hate capitalism, and as a cherry on top, your birthday falls on the 25th of December. Conversely, you are a pretty big fan of parties. Who doesn't love getting drunk, wasting money, talking shit, flirting with women, getting rejected, and passing out on the floor? So, you take your love of parties, and you minus it by your dislike of Christmas, and all in all? You're more than happy to be attending this Christmas party.

...Look, you know the metaphor is rough, alright? The maths might've been a little sloppy, but don't worry about it. The point is, you're excited. You're a VIP now, a Beast, an elite officer of Team Rocket, and someone who commands respect, and that means you get to act like it, too. Not only did you shower for this, not only did you go out and buy a new outfit, but you even got yourself a haircut! You're elite, you're prime, and you're ready to rock!

Oh, and Meltan is here, too.

"omg missile toad :o do the poliwhirl drive the rockets?"

"No no, I said Mistletoe. Missile toads aren't a real thing... I think." You explain to the metal nut perched on your shoulder. The Meltan is also dressed for the occasion, wearing a paperclip that he twisted into the shape of a bowtie. Hardly the most flashy accessory, but you kind of blew the budget on your own outfit, and he's happy enough, so you'll make do. "Didn't I already explain to you that we're not a space agency? There's no actual Rocket. It's just a name."

"i see i see ⊙ω⊙ so the frogs kiss under the mistletoe?"

"...Yeah, sure. Now, let's go get a drink, yeah?"

"ooo yes please! :D"

---

Shred's DRIP.
Open to Inter Actions.

"I'd like if it that was true, but I'm not so optimistic."

You think back to the incident that took place underneath Route 119. Ideally, you'd like to savour a cigarette while mulling it over, but given that you're in a submarine, you'll have to forego that luxury. So, you just cross your arms, tilt your head back, and try to imagine the taste of nicotine on your tongue as you reflect on what happened.

"Sure, the chains on the rescue team members disappeared, and the ones on the dead did, too. But what about the other Megalopolans and their Pokemon?" You muse, placing a hand upon your chin. "They all had the parasite too, and not only are they gone, but we don't know where they went. They could be off in some other cave, plotting the same things, and we'd be none the wiser. Besides, I have a hunch..."

You hesitate for a moment. Should you really be relying on "hunches" and "vibes" to try and convince a highly respected scientist, of all people? But hey, what do you really have to lose? What is she going to do, lose faith in your nonexistent intellectual prowess?

"I think there's more parasites out there. Besides the Megalopolan ones, I mean. I don't know why, but I just get the feeling there's more out there that we don't know about."

---

Lulu Flint

The good news is, she isn't mad. The bad news is, she still doesn't seem particularly eager to take the break, either. Man, this is exhausting. Just trying to convince her to take a vacation makes you feel like you need a vacation, too. Why can't she just trust you on this one? You, someone who's practically a stranger to her, who specifically sought her out after she tried to kill him, and who keeps making demands of her without clarifying why? It just doesn't make any sense.

Once again, the question comes back to what you want, and once again, you still can't give her a straight answer. But you came here for more than one reason, and if won't tell her the first one, then you can at least offer her the second.

"...Look." You begin, taking a few steps back towards Lulu and lowering your voice to a whisper once more. "I don't like anything that happened down in that cave. Now that all the proof has up and vanished, nobody has any reason to believe us. I know for a fact that the League won't do anything about it, and I doubt Rocket will do shit, either. But if that Chain ends up coming back, and if that parasite ends up spreading, then it won't end well for anyone. But, we were both there. We know how serious this shit is, and between your brains and my brawn, we might be able to stamp this out before it becomes a problem."

And that'll mean, Arceus willing, you never have to choose between your life and hers ever again.

"Is that so much to ask?"

---

Lulu Flint

"I'm sorry, officer, it's just--"

Before you can even finish your perfect excuse, the window goes sliding back up. Slowly, your eyes look back to Howard, and if looks could kill, his skull would've imploded on the spot. What the fuck was he doing?! Didn't you just tell him to keep his mouth shut? Well, you guess technically his mouth is shut, but that hardly makes it better. It might even make it worse! Does he really value his pedantry that much? Your freedom is on the line!

The window comes back down, and before you can resume your excuse, the archaeologist asks the copper for an autograph. Eyes wide and mouth agape, you turn to look towards the pig. And that's all you see, a pig like any other. Is Howard really in the business of asking any old member of law enforcement for their autograph? It beggars belief.

Slowly, you lean back in your seat, allowing to flagrant display of bootlicking go on unimpeded. From behind you, Grigori asks the same question you're thinking. At the very least, the two of you still have your sanity intact.

"Dunno." You murmur, looking at the man from the corner of your eye. "Some kind of cop celebrity, maybe? Beats me."

---

kyle lopez Grigori Sokolov howard slayte

You can't say you're particularly happy to be here.

Seriously. Why can't these intellectual types ever ask your help for normal science stuff, like doing egg drops, or making baking soda volcanoes? They always want you to fight a giant whale, or steal a generator, or do some other insane thing. Like, for instance, going out to Mount Chimney in the middle of a raging blizzard.

Somehow, it's both too hot and too cold at the same time. You are simultaneously overdressed and underdressed for the extreme conditions. The sweat dripping from your face is freezing to your skin. One minute your boots are slipping on ice, and the next they're melting from the heat. And none of that is even mentioning the lava, which is really just the burning icing on this frigid cake. Even someone like you, who knows next to nothing about meteorology nor mountaineering, can tell how fucked this is.

And that's about all you can tell. Not for lack of trying, mind, you'd more than eager for an explanation to this madness. Alas, your "partner" on this expedition doesn't seem particularly interested in verbalising any of her findings. So, you're really just standing here, waiting for her to get bored and finish up so you can leave. Speaking of which...

"Are you done yet?"

---

Xenon Antheil

Everything seems to be going remarkably well, up until the point it isn't.

Grudges overtake the mind of Decidueye. The clarity of his purpose is muddled by the insidious power of ruin. In an instant, the seeds of disdain grow into a flower of hate, which proceeds to blossom into violence.

As the Aerodactyl lands a chilling bite and freezes the Scizor solid, it leaves the owl completely free to do as it wishes. The Brave Bird, meant to strike down foul snail, instead comes crashing down into the back of the prehistoric predator. The result is brutal, not just for the victim, but for the one dealing the blow, too. The recoil of slamming into stone at high speed bruises flesh, cracks bones, and ruffles feather. And, in a much needed windfall, it also breaks whatever spell had taken hold of the bird.

"Ngh...!"

With a grunt, the Decidueye hits the floor, reeling from both the physical and mental punishment. Weary eyes look up towards the Tablets of Ruin, now enlightened to the nature of the atrocity before it. It was not looking at a snail. It was like looking into a deep abyss, darker than the deepest ocean, more sinister than anything man could dream up.

You, meanwhile, are looking at a snail.

"...Decidueye, what the FUCK are you doing?"

"Apologies, Zeppelin. I cannot defeat this opponent."

"What? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Against the devil;

There is only one option;

A hasty retreat."

And then, the Decidueye makes good on their haiku. With a swift U-turn, it quickly returns back into its Pokeball, and in its place, another is sent out in a red flash of light. Fucking bastard. You thought that he was a bird of prey, not a cowardly little turtle dove! Why can't any of your Pokemon ever just be normal and follow your orders? You grit your teeth. No no, this is fine, you can still make this work! As long as whatever Pokemon that comes out next is half-decent, you can still--

"Gadzooks!"

--FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

---

howard slayte Elisabeth Fiorelli Grigori Sokolov

"--The Seismitoad is faster! THIS SEISMITOAD IS FASTER! ITS THE SWIFT SWIM! AND THE DRAIN PUNCH HITS THE DREDNAW! SUPER EFFECTIVE, OH MY LORD, WHAT AN OUTPLAY!"

You awake to the sounds of the Galar Championship League playing on the television.

With a groan, you groggily sit up on your mattress, eyes bleary and head pounding. You feel like death. You're nauseous, you're hungover, and you've just been pushed through an interdimensional portal and into an alternate timeline. Fucking hell, did that Winter bastard hate your letter that much that he had to banish you into a time prison? Cunt.

Well, not much you can do about it now. You've just got to get through it. The good news is, you still feel like yourself, same body and same mind and all that. But that doesn't answer the most pressing question, does it? Bracing yourself, you reach under your pillow, and grab your phone. Alright, what's the bad news? What timeframe have you just been been haphazardly tossed into? The screen turns on, and...

2:05PM, 30TH NOVEMBER 2023

...Huh. He sent you to yesterday?

That explains a lot. Breathing a sigh of relief, you turn off your phone, and slump backwards onto your "bed". This is weird, but it's also easy! You've just got to make it through one measly day, and you'll be free of this timefuck nightmare. Whew! You really lucked out here. After all that dream nonsense, you really didn't want to have to go through more butterfly effect bullshit.

So, time to hunker down and wait this out.

...Okay, she's definitely in rough shape. She's being offered a week of paid time off, no strings attached, and she said no? Most people would kill to have that sort of thing, and she's turning it down? Fucking hell. You can't let her do that. If you did, it'd be nothing short of negligent.

"Look, I'm not telling you how to live your life." You clarify, walking the precarious tightrope between being considerate and authoritative. "If you want to spend that time researching, or studying, or experimenting, or whatever science thing you want to do, that's none of my business. But take it from me? It won't kill you to take it easy for a while. The world isn't going to end just because you take a day off. You think I'd let it? I live here too, y'know."

Yeah, right. Why did you think saying this would impress her? You can't even protect your own dignity, and she's supposed to think you can protect the multiverse? Murder Roulette works on zombies. It won't work on Eternatus.

And then, without much in the way of warning, she cuts to the heart of the matter. What's your angle?

"I don't have an angle. Well, technically, I do, but... Fuck, man, it's not anything nefarious, alright? It's just that--" I am madly in love with the idea of you "--I don't want you to work yourself to death, okay? You're WAY too smart to die over something so stupid! So, stop being stubborn, do yourself a favour, and take the time off. Is that really so much to ask?"

...You were wrong before. You hadn't fucked it before, but now? Now you've really fucked it.

---

Lulu Flint