Yannick flicked through the photos on Ever’s camera, admiring the ranger’s work. Yannick was far from an expert at taking pictures but he was used to being in them. In that sense, the pair were perfectly complementary.

“Wow, Compositionally balanced, lighting in all the right places and the framing is on point, too. Fantastic work. These will go down great with the marketing team, I’m sure. If you don’t want to be in one, that’s okay. More coverspace for me. However, you’re not going without a shoutout in the company newsletter. You’re not getting out of that one. Oh by the way, what’s your fee for the photos?” Yannick would happily agree to whatever the young man would like to charge (within reason of course!)

Griselda would interrupt the conversation and hold out her open hand. In the middle of it was a single pebble.

“That’s it!” Yannick plucked the dark coloured stone from her hand.

“Unfortunately, that’s all of it. Looks like the stones were brought to this location rather than them originating from here.”

“Ah that’s a shame.” Yannick turned to Ever. “We were given a tip that these had been found in this spot but it looks like someone had previously collected them and moved them. However, my experts have said that it makes geological sense for them to be in this area.”

“It’s called Fumite, more commonly known as smoke stone. A precious mineral that looks completely innocuous.” Yannick rubbed the pebble, cleaning it of ice and holding it up to the light. Although it was rough and unpolished, the occasional edge would catch the sun, sparkling in a shifting myriad of colours. “When sitting in the darkness, it looks like nothing. But unearth it, cut it and give it a new purpose and it will shine like the rainbow. Historically it has been used as a metaphor for agency and change, showing us that life is what you make of it.”

“I want to go deeper into the valley.” Griselda turned to Hammond who reproduced his map. “Down to here, let’s check this last place and then I’ll be satisfied.” Her finger traced the altitude lines down to an open basin.

“Would you mind if we go to one more place? I’m afraid my people do not like accepting defeat.”

So close to safety, there was just this one thug left in his way. With his foe’s eyes on the courtyard outside, Yannick decided that now was time to act. He needed to deal with him before the Team Rocket member had a chance to go for a pokeball.

After creeping around the side of a cabinet, Yannick lunged out to tackle him to the ground. It was a decidedly uncoordinated effort, but thankfully his mass was aimed in the right direction and was enough to knock his target over.

“Go, now!” He shouted behind him at the staff and visitors that he had been escorting. The group dashed for the exit, streaming out of the museum in a panicked jostle.

They were safe, but now Yannick needed to worry about himself. A palm met his face in the most unfriendly manner, with the matching fingers curling their way up into his eye. Yannick grimaced but still jumped on top of the man, hoping to try to get control.

The two wrestled for a short while but it was clear that Yannick was out of his depth. The Rocket member was quite physically strong and unfortunately the CEO’s reps at the office hadn’t resulted in physical strength.

Soon, his masked foe had made it out from under him and forced himself up and over. Yannick desperately clawed, and one finger managed to hook under the thug’s face covering. Wrenching it free, he was met with a sight entirely unpleasant.

“Haymitch?” He was stunned to see his employee was the one that he had just been fighting.

“Boss, I didn’t want you to find out it was me. I swear, once the boys heard about the rock, I didn’t have a-” Haymitch didn’t manage to finish his sentence as Yannick had grabbed the nearest object, some ancient copper container, and brought it across Haymitch’s brow.

The big man slumped over. Yannick got to his feet, panting while staring down at one of his own. How could it have come to this? How could he have let one of his own be a part of such a menace?

He didn’t have much time to contemplate his own failures as blue and red lights lit up the courtyard outside. Here were the police, a bit late to the party, but much appreciated nonetheless.

As Yannick’s attention was brought back to the matter at hand, he remembered the girl who had saved him only a couple of minutes ago. She was still in there, she would no doubt need help.

The Rocket members in the museum front would quickly realise that their time was running out, but Yannick’s attention was getting back to the loading bay. He pushed through the double doors and what he saw was…

Ever mentioned that he had a Gliscor partner which helped him navigate caves.

“Hm maybe we should look into getting our own. Would that be useful to us?” Yannick asked his team.

“I believe that breed might require further training than what we are capable of.” Hammond mused.

“Ah I see. Yes, our employees are often technicians and labourers first and trainers second. We often don’t manage to employ the personnel talented in pokemon handling. Even Grisleda’s pokemon are part of a specialised work force with skills that have taken years to cultivate. Which is why we sometimes have to rely on the expertise of rangers to navigate these difficult environments.”

When Ever produced his camera, Yannick would launch into action. He grabbed the map out of Hammond’s hands and found the most majestic tree he could find. There he stood at it’s base, an ice glaze over its leaves shimmering in the sparse sunlight filtering down from above. He held out the map in front of himself and peered off into the distance.

“Okay get one of me like this. This can be the cover photo.”

Once that scene had been snapped, he waddled back to the digsite.

“Alright now get one of us at work.” Yannick pulled a tiny fold out shovel out of his backpack and slung it over his shoulder while dabbing at imaginary sweat with his other arm. Griselda and Hammond ignored him, doing their best to continue with the job at hand and look as natural as possible.

“Okay now lets have one together. Ever would you like to be in it too? You’re an important part of this operation too. I could take it or is there some sort of timer you can set? Ooh I know, how about a selfie?”

Shit shit shit. Panic had fully set in now. The names on his contact list seemed to blur together. His forearm was trembling. Sweat droplets from his face splattered on the screen. In that dark interface, he could see his own visage. Even amid all of this, the thought came to him. The focus of his unsightly lack of composure. This wasn’t the image he had put so much effort into building. How frail it must be if some goons were all it took to rip that away. Was this all his pride could muster? Surely an industry leader such as himself could rise above it all in a time of need.

Crashing blows rang out through the garage as two titans wrestled in front of the orange splinter of solid sap. Like a golden portal to the underworld, two demons had emerged onto the earthly plane to do battle.

There was no time to be distracted, as some bipedal cat-like pokemon burst out from the crowd toward him. Yannick couldn’t help but gawk at the massive knives protruding from the pokemon’s paws. He hadn’t seen this particular species before and he sure didn’t want to find out what it was capable of. Just as he was about to turn tail, he heard a voice through the chaos.

It was the young lady, Miss Higashi that had introduced herself, pokeball in had. He saw it now. Her in the middle of it all. Commanding her warriors to drive back the invaders. Such a tiny frame seemed the most formidable force at this moment. The Sneasler rushed at the grunts, allowing Yannick and the others the time to disengage.

“Okay!” Was all he managed in response. Her resistance had inspired new focus in him. He had to do what he could. “This way, people!” He picked up the nearest person by the collar and heaved them to their feet. Putting their arm around his shoulder, he hurried them toward the front of the Oceanic Museum again. He didn’t have all the information to make the right decisions in this moment but he figured that getting away from the immediate danger had to be the only decision to make.

Heaving open the warehouse doors, it was clear that the front of the house was in just as much chaos. Several grunts were running amok, weapons at the ready. Thankfully it looked like most of the staff and custom had managed to get out the front door. Only a handful were still inside, clinging to the furthest corner and seeking refuge behind displays and desks.

Yannick held open the door and ushered people through. He was hoping that if he just let the grunts grab whatever they wanted, they would leave the people alone. As nice as it was to go to see the exhibits every now and then, he wasn’t about to put them above his or anyone else’s life. Sticking to the edge of the room, the party made their way around the museum and toward the front door.

It couldn’t be that easy though, as a grunt was posted in front of the door. Fully masked in a balaclava, he watched out through the window at the street beyond. They had to make it past this last one and then it was on to safety.

And there it was, confirmation. The great red letter which towered above the populace of Hoenn. R. It meant terror, and today was no different. He stood there, his mind unable to come to a conclusion as to what to do. Being in Hoenn, there was always danger. Whether it was from the Meteno asteroid or any other number of things, there was always a threat to one’s wellbeing. Having that threat so close and in your face was different, though. His white collar didn’t have enough starch to hold up his backbone.

What got him moving was the thought of his people. They could still be there. He had left the truck when he had come in but had not paid attention to where they were after that. Could they have been caught in the explosion? His head whipped around, his eyes trying to track any face that matched his memory bank. He spotted a young woman who he had met only a few minutes previously. He needed to help her. No, actually, he didn’t. He watched in awe as she peeled herself off a pillar and launched into action. From her pokeball came an impressive horned beast.

Yannick didn’t have time to watch though as his attention was wrenched away by a scream. Across the loading bay, the grunts were taking a crowbar to the crates that stored many of the treasures of the museum. A couple of staff members were trying to interfere as best they could, pleading with the aggressors. At their feet was Yannick’s driver, laying limp.

Before he could stop himself he was over there. Picking up a trolley, he hefted the thing at the grunts. He wasn’t much of an action star but this was the best he could do. “Leave it, it’s not worth your life!” He yelled at the staff while crouching over his driver. Grabbing the driver by the shoulder pads, he dragged him out of the approach of Team Rocket. Putting a finger below his nose, Yannick could feel faint exhalation. He was still alive.

Thankfully the grunts had gone back to their thievery instead of approaching them. They had begun to lift anything they could get their hands on and load it into their vehicle. The centre of the loading bay had been transformed into a fierce battle, crashes ringing out as the pokemon tore into each other.

Yannick quietly cursed under his breath and sense returned. He reached for his phone, pouring through his contacts for every League member and police captain number he had collected. He pressed one and hoped that they would pick up.

The forest provided the smallest respite from the cold, breaking up the windchill enough for Yannick to catch his breath. He looked down at the hiking boots he had been supplied. One size too large and probably not done up properly, he felt a drip of snow running down his ankle.

“Yes it seems to be around here.” Hammond mulled over his map while pacing around the icy grove. “Time to get to work, Griselda.”

“You don’t order me around, whippersnapper.” She grumbled but stepped up to the plate all the same. With a flick of her wrist she produced two pokeballs and threw them. Out came a dugtrio and a loudred. The two pokemon did not seem too pleased with their new work environment.

Hammond dug around in his bag and found the small mineral. He handed it to Griselda who then held it out in her hand in front of the pokemon. The dugtrio rubbed it with one of its noses while the loudred let out a few sound waves, his ears pulsing slowly. This was only the start of the strange ritual as the pokemon started their search for the mineral in the area. The dugtrio dug downward, searching from below while the loudred crouched down on all fours and sent sound waves down at the earth.

“Ah I should probably explain what is going on.” Yannick laughed and turned to Ever, realising the ranger would probably be lost. “See, we are searching for a particularly rare mineral. It’s quite valuable, see, and a few adventurers who had passed through the area had found a few pieces by happenstance. Now with that information alongside our experts best guesses as to where the deposits are likely to be due to geography, we have decided on places to investigate-”

“My team is the best in the world!” Griselda piped up, energised by finally getting to her passion. The cold faded away as her attention was fixed on the prospection. “My dugtrio can feel the earth around him, and can sort of ‘smell’ water content and densities of the earth he travels through. Complement that with my loudred’s sensitive ears that pick up on the faint echoes of the sound that is reflected by the different mediums and we will be able to determine composition of the earth.” She smiled with much too much teeth at the ranger, expecting him to be as astounded with her talent as she was.

“Oh, I have an idea. You said you were a photographer too, right? Would you happen to have your camera on you? Could I get you to take some photographs? I’m sure they will go well with the presentation pack.” Yannick made sure to stand up straight and look as natural as he could in the wilderness. Yes, this is what the people wanted, seeing the big boss at the ground level, doing the hard yards for the good of the company. He could see the positive impressions raining in already.

Heavy steps would lead Yannick up the steps of the Bijoux Solette Slateport storefront. His ball and chain. And at the top, he would look out at the view of the city below him. Tears of relief flowed freely down his face. He raised his arms up to the sky. In his right hand was a cylindrical mechanism. His finger found the button on the end. He pressed down hard. And then that sound started again.

THUNK THUNK THUNK

It was the machines again. And they were coming from the business district. Now they were coming from the night market. Now they were even coming from the beach. The sound emanated from the whole city. The ground itself seemed to shake. The number of machines that would have been required to pull off this effect would have been countless. The Zorua at his feet turned its nose to the sky and howled.

And then the explosions started. First the business district, then the Night Market, then even the beach. The bright fireballs like christmas lights strung up around the city. Plumes of red and white fire rose into the sky and the shockwaves shook the city. Whole buildings came tumbling down. The screams filled his ears. The last explosion was directly under his feet, in the Bijoux Solette store. Finally, he was free. The blast evaporated the scenery.

“A valve that was pushed to its breaking point. The steam building up. Then the final release. This can’t be my future, surely. I would never get to a place where I would do such a thing.”

--------------

Yannick’s head lurched up from his desk. He was back in his office. There was no strange man. There was no Unown D. There was no portal. Ahh, he must have dozed off. He really needed to go easier on the pharmaceuticals.

A plume of red and white smoke coiled up from underneath his desk. The ghostly visage of a Zorua lept onto the table. They stared at each other.

Yannick was once again staring at himself. It was obvious that time had passed. How much though he could not tell. Maybe he could count the lines on his older self’s forehead much like you would count the rings in the trunk of a tree. He looked much older, but something told Yannick that this version of himself was wearing his age particularly badly. Baggy eyes, patchy beard and straggly hair. He was a mess.

The older CEO continued to pull himself through the work days. He dragged himself to the function after function. It was a fifty-fifty whether he would be holed up in the bathroom while trying to get whatever stimulants he could get his hands on into his system or be black-out drunk at the bar. Something needed to change.

The strange thing was, he was smiling. Yannick knew himself and he knew that he was miserable in these moments. However, there was a strange air of serenity that surrounded him. He continued down this path of self-destruction until he collapsed completely. He was at his limit. After checking out of the hospital, he was laughing to himself. There would be no more work after today.

He hobbled home, stopping by the graveyard. He stooped down by one gravestone in particular. Yannick tried to peer at the engraving over his older self’s shoulder but he couldn’t seem to make out who was buried here.

A plume of red and white smoke coiled around the gravestone and his older self. The same smoke as before. But this time, the source of the smoke appeared. A hisuian zorua crept out from behind the stone. The pokemon waddled over to the old Yannick and growled softly. Old Yannick didn’t seem to be able to see the ghost pokemon and continued with his visit. He left flowers at the grave before getting up to leave. The Zorua would continue to follow him for the rest of the vision. That dreaded smoke followed him like the sign of an evil curse.

A tendril of white and red smoke coiled around his arm. His eyes followed the smoke to the source, and he realised that it emanated from inside the amber. It flowed unimpeded by the hardened sap, wrapping a spherical object. This object was a tumblestone, he was told. More specifically, this one had been turned into an ancient version of a pokeball. The ball drew his fascination. He stepped closer peering into the orange window. A pokeball frozen in time. Maybe it was his imagination, but he seemed to see it wiggle slightly. Like an egg about to hatch. What were the chances that a pokemon had been preserved in there all this time?

From there, the days began to speed up. As it often did when you got busy, time passed faster and faster. Whole years were going by and Yannick didn't seem to notice. But now, in this reliving experience, Yannick could tell something was up. He was growing weary. Not the same type that he had experienced daily, but one that clung to you no matter how much you rested. The pep was failing his step. His spine was failing his posture. Even his famous smile was not so believable now. How many more days could he keep this up. The writing on the wall was clear. He was dissatisfied and something needed to change. The reality was, he didn't know how.

He was walking down the street one morning on his way to work. A low fog front had set in. One foot in front of the other he persisted. The buildings in the distance had been swallowed up. Soon, even street signs down the road were not visible. Still he continued on. His leather shoes hit the pavement like the beat of a drum. Ever reliable in spirit.

However the fog grew thicker. It was now smoke, white with streaks of red. It started getting harder to make progress, as if there was air resistance that was holding him back. Everything in front of him was now unable to be seen. He held out his arm in front of him and his fingertips disappeared from view. He was now standing at an angle, using his body weight to press through the smoke. It was so hard just to keep moving. But he still did for some reason. The rhythm of his heel strike slowed but never stopped, resulting in a familiar sound.

THUNK THUNK THUNK

The scene faded to white. His consciousness assembled and the scene shifted again.

"An endless march into limbo. A burden that only grows in size but I cannot stop. Is that my life now?"

It was deeply unsettling to see his present displayed in such a way. A life set upon railroad tracks. The natural continuation of his strict childhood. There was more, right? There had to be more. Something that he could stumble upon in that red and white smoke. His consciousness was compelled to see more. The scene obeyed.

Yannick was in his element. Fielding the few questions that the reporters had that he could answer, making sure to slip his company’s name into the mix as much as possible. A couple of the journalists that were there were some that he had arranged to be there, including one who was writing a piece for their own website.

The people loved this sort of stuff - news that registered a mild interest. Inoffensive and not too titillating made it ingestible over the morning coffee. Something to distract the brain from the stresses of the rest of the day. Something to distract them from the fallout of the war on Team Rocket.

BANG the shockwave hit the building, shaking its metal frame. A few glass cases shattered and reporters holding their cameras fell over. The double door behind Yannick flew open and Yannick himself stumbled in shock. His heartrate flew through the roof as he reeled, trying to assess the situation.

Back through the doorframe that he had just come lay the silhouettes of miscreants that stood in front of the now shredded loading bay door. Once the ringing in his ears stopped, screams and yells took their place. Staff and visitors alike were running in the opposite direction. Trying to mash themselves through the front door of the museum.

Feeling nauseous, Yannick wobbled toward the loading bay. His staff was still in there somewhere, right? Where were they? His eyes refused to focus on the scene in front of him. Two large red and white spheres rolled in as menacing a way as they could manage. They were under attack. Team Rocket?

“Haymitch? Where are you?” Yannick coughed, dust and debris filling his nose. There was no reply because the security guard had already left the building.

When the scenery reformed, it was something very familiar. Present day Slateport City. At the company head office, wheeling and dealing. Then off to a dinner party with some local officials, boozing and schmoozing. Then back to the office for some late-night paperwork, winding and grinding.

This was the life that had resulted from his circumstances. Nothing that he could complain about, he was the face of privilege. His position was one of prestige. People worked their whole lives for a fraction of something that would be his birthright. Every time he stepped out in public, he was all smiles. But seeing himself here, staring at the stack of paper, every last form less important than the previous.

A group of kids were playing outside, skating down the frosty cobblestones. He leaned out the window, growling at them for enjoying their life like the modern-day Scrooge that he was.

The fatigue set in. The curl of ink from the end of his pen became looser with every passing hour. Haze in his vision. Body calling out for rest. But something within his psyche pushed forward. This was his duty, his life. So the stimulants came out. The core of his talents packaged so neatly in a small white container. He would down the pills and keep on going.

It was halfway through the night before he returned home. The stars were out, guiding him home. Not wanted to wake Kou, his partner, he collapsed on the couch. He was out like a light, limbs in all sorts of unfortunate positions. No wonder his back was in a constant state of disrepair. Kou, bless her heart, heard him come in. She waddled out of the bedroom with a blanket in her arms. Folding it over him and delicately brushing his sweaty brow.

He continued his business escapades, starting projects in the Icelands and going on airship rides. At one point he even donated a large chunk of amber to the museum. He was standing there, marvelling at the window into the long-gone region of Hisui. He picked up a chunk of amber that had fallen off, thinking about the one bright thing that he had in his life. If it wasn't for her, he would never have lasted this long.

The war needed to stop. The final thought on the subject of the disaster. It was a poignant one, pointing toward the nature of our society. The Meteno event had issued a threat to our very survival. The gravity of the situation warped the time and space of Hoenn. And yet where were they now? Back to the same old friends and foes. Back to the monotony, back to the same old social issues. Back to the envy and callousness. The League and Rocket at each other’s necks and every other man and woman stuck in the middle, looking out for themselves. Josh was right. After all this, surely there was something better we could achieve together.

“I hope we can find that peace, one day. Thank you very much for your time today. And thank you to you and your colleagues for all that they have done during Meteno and going forward.”

“That’s a wrap! Good work gentlemen. Oh and you too Kazoom.” Grace called out to the rotom. Kazoom buzzed and bounced around, obviously happy with his job well done. The producer and the pokemon began packing up.

Yannick shivered. An unanticipated chill wind blowing in from the Icelands washed over them, like the route was reminding them of its presence. “You know, maybe there is something I can contribute. I can’t fight any sort of legendary beast but there has to be something.” He said it while pondering the conversation they just had. What exactly that something was, he still had to find.

“Where are you off to next, Mr Devlin?”