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absinthe watches with a cold, calculating eye as aisling’s ninetales lunges forward, fangs bared. the grumpig lets out a horrified squeal, its attempts to fight back futile against the ferocity of the ninetales’ attack. the dark pearls that once adorned the grumpig’s head and body are now clutched in the fox’s jaws, torn free in a display of raw, brutal efficiency.[break][break]

the grumpig, realizing its defeat, turns and bolts, squealing in terror as it disappears into the underbrush. the meadow falls silent, save for the rhythmic bouncing of the oblivious spoink still scattered around.[break][break]

absinthe steps forward and her seviper returns to her side like a loyal dog, glaring up at her for further orders, but absinthe's eyes are fixed on the spot where the grumpig had stood. a glimmer catches her attention, and she kneels down, picking up one of the black pearls left behind. her gloved fingers brush against it, feeling the warmth still clinging to its surface, the faint trace of blood smearing its iridescent sheen.[break][break]

“brutal,” absinthe murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper as she examines the pearl. she turns it over in her hand, and the corners of her eyes crinkle in malevolent delight. had there not been a mask over her mouth, she might have been seen smiling. “but efficient.”[break][break]

she tucks the pearl into her bag, a small trophy of their work, and then straightens up, her gaze shifting to aisling. “nice work,” she adds, her tone matter-of-fact, but with a hint of grudging respect.

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the darkness envelops sootopolis like a suffocating shroud, the air thick with fear and desperation. absinthe's heart pounds in her chest as she watches the black hole warp the very fabric of reality, pulling everything toward its inescapable maw. the city is being devoured by the rising waters, and the ancient dyna tree looms ahead, struggling against the primal forces threatening to tear it apart.[break][break]

but her eyes aren’t on the tree anymore; they’re on kyogre, the leviathan, its colossal form dominating the flooded landscape. the primal god’s power is overwhelming, a force of nature beyond comprehension. but as declan walsh orders echo in her mind—contain the kyogre—a dark resolve hardens within her.[break][break]

“sanguinarine,” she calls out, her voice steady despite the chaos surrounding her, water pooling up to her waist. the crobat, victorious in its airslash against the beast, descends toward her, its wings beating with a fierce intensity. absinthe’s hand tightens around the scalpel in her bag, but she pushes the thought aside. this isn’t about a sample anymore; this is about survival, and perhaps, about making a final stand in the only way she knows how.[break][break]

her eyes narrow as she looks at the kyogre, now fully reverted to its primal form, its translucent membranes glowing ominously as it churns the waters below. There’s no reasoning with a force like this, no way to outthink a god. but perhaps, just perhaps, it can be weakened.[break][break]

“sanguinarine,” she commands, her voice sharp. “toxic. go, go.”[break][break]

the crobat screeches in response, its eyes glinting with understanding. it soars higher, circling the kyogre from above. absinthe watches even as she scrambles up towards higher ground, her breath held, as sanguinarine swoops in closer, its wings a blur against the stormy sky. the distance between them and the leviathan seems insurmountable, but sanguinarine presses on, cutting through the air with lethal precision.[break][break]

as sanguinarine nears kyogre, its mouth opens, releasing a stream of viscous, purple liquid. the droplets scatter through the air, glinting in the brief flashes of lightning, as they plummet down towards kyogre in the vaguest hope of making a difference.

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absinthe is no stranger to the thrill of speed, no matter how apathetic she has grown to be nowadays. she used to run in school, and she used to run a lot. sometimes, it felt like the only way to quell her oft full mind. in a way, the racing feels similar. though hidden, absinthe's lips curve into a smile, one that reaches her eyes. for the first time in a long while, she doesn't feel like lying down and never rising.[break][break]

"you flatter me," absinthe returns. "i was only following instructions."[break][break]

and so the two of them draw back towards the gym's entrance, the lesson over. by now, absinthe has, at the very least, a good grasp on the basics, just enough to pass it on and coordinate her supply chains and dealers. an invaluable tool, really. how tragic that the man, who may as well be a representative of the league itself, had just taught the enemy how to avoid the authorities. alas, absinthe does not feel shame at fooling him. she has not felt shame in a while.[break][break]

"it is freeing," the chemist admits as they reach the doors. "i feel far more confident now. thank you for your help. i'll be certain to practice. maybe one day i'll come back."[break][break]

the operative word is maybe, of course. absinthe is unsure the next time she will be forced to leave her lab.[break][break]

turning and walking, absinthe waves to josh from over her shoulder. "see you around."

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perfected indeed. what use is a sleep drug when it only allows you to drift away half of the time? before anything else, the chemist is a perfectionist. ninety percent effectiveness will always be more impressive than fifty percent.[break][break]

absinthe's head tilts. had she not seen firsthand the effects of interdimensional travel—the journey into eternatus' festering corpse—she would have taken lulu's research with a grain of salt. now, not so much. the true point of interest is lulu's studied method of how to reach them. dreams. fickle things, even scientifically. almost impossible to measure, judged based only off of the experience of the dreamer. a challenge, to be certain.[break][break]

absinthe has never shied away from a challenge before, though.[break][break]

"i can do it," absinthe says. "but i will need more equipment. an electroencephalogram machine, for one. test subjects, human, for another."[break][break]

the chemist meets lulu's eyes. "if you can provide these things, you have me."

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absinthe looks up at howard from where she stands beneath him, his back turned to her, his expression a mystery. absinthe scoffs at his words.[break][break]

"don't make me take it back, howard," absinthe murmurs as she takes his hand in hers. "i think it suits me plenty."[break][break]

her sarcasm is palpable as she uses his hand as leverage to pull herself back up to the bank. hope has never suited her. she is a consummate pessimist, too stoic for her own good, sometimes even apathetic on matters of the future. absinthe and hope are like oil and water. but there is nothing else for her to do. she imagines howard has prepared as much as he can for the task left ahead of him. when preparations are finished, plans have been made, and all logic has been exhausted, the only thing a person can do is hope.[break][break]

so howard better damn well kill a god. absinthe doesn't like betting on losing horses.

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just as absinthe takes another step back, a being of orange interposes itself between her and the advancing grumpig. aisling's flareon, absinthe realizes with a start, coming to defend absinthe from the beast.[break][break]

embarassing, really. had absinthe's lower face been left uncovered, there would exist the slightest spot of red. she doesn't see herself as a maiden in need of a saving, nor of aisling as the knight in shining armor. even so, it is nice to know that the other woman has her back. it is a low, simple comfort that absinthe often refuses to recognize.[break][break]

there is no time for musing, of course. the grumpig is on the attack, and absinthe would rather not see the flareon ran into. she reaches into the dark depths of her coat and pulls out her own pokeball, which she tosses. in a flash of bright light, trypsin, her seviper, appears, leering through the darkness at the grumpig's muscular form.[break][break]

absinthe points. "night slash."[break][break]

and trypsin obeys. flashing forward with unimaginable speed, the seviper's tail warps with inky black energy as it strikes out towards the grumpig. flesh connects with flesh, and the grumpig goes reeling back, the zen headbutt abandoned in favor of regaining its bearings. dark purple bruises bloom on the thing's skin, but it yet has some fight left in it. lifting it's head, light begins to gather and scintillate around the black pearls on its head and body. POWER GEM beams towards flareon.

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absinthe's voice drips with derision when she responds. "most poachers think with their wallets rather than their heads."[break][break]

regardless, absinthe indeed came prepared. at aisling's question, the chemist pulls her bag around her shoulder to reveal an entire tote filled with aluminum foil spheres. readily, the woman hands a multitude of the tools to her partner in crime, eager to get the pearls she needs and to return to her bar. god knows she would rather be working on her chemicals than duping such lowly creatures, but that is neither here nor there.[break][break]

"spread them out. we should have a field of pearls soon enough."[break][break]

with that, absinthe ventures further out into the meadow, tossing the aluminum spheres into the tall, untamed grass as if she were sowing seeds. venturing closer and closer to a treeline, absinthe eventually comes to peer into the dark underbrush in search of any more spoinks. the chemist narrows her eyes, attempting to cut through the darkness with her gaze, only to catch her attention on a flash of white hidden deep therein. she tilts her head to the side. are those...?[break][break]

the flash of white blinks. they're eyes. a loud snort follows soon after. the underbrush parts to reveal a grumpig, and absinthe stumbles backward. another snort, and it paws its hooves into the soft, loamy earth underfoot. desperate to keep tensions low, absinthe throws an aluminum sphere before the grumpig. it ignores it in favor of advancing on absinthe further.[break][break]

"fuck."

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oh, wow. another pokeball. so lucky.[break][break]

absinthe looks up at Hawkins . his haul looks to be far more impressive than hers, by a long shot. maybe absinthe isn't very good at this. she laughs low, almost genuine. "well, she's doing well at finding pokeballs. and she seems to be having fun, so..."[break][break]

time to see if absinthe can get anything other than a pokeball! she dives.[break][break]

pErj0Inw

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absinthe's eyes flash as she glances at aisling. "drugs," she murmurs. "the pearls, when ground finely, act as stabilizers for some chemical reactions. invaluable, really."[break][break]

with some time spent wandering ahead, following the trail of psychic energy, a meadow opens up before the fiends with a sea of spoink bouncing therein, oblivious to the fate that awaits them. absinthe's hand trails down to her coat and then beneath it, where her grip tightens on an unseen object, and she lowers down into a crouch. if the spoink are startled, it will be harder to catch them to take their pearls from them. absinthe has found more success in going slowly.[break][break]

"spoink are curious creatures," absinthe says in a tone hardly above a whisper. "always in search of a bigger pearl. they'll drop everything to find one. they just don't have a great idea of which ones are authentic, and which aren't."[break][break]

absinthe suddenly reveals a large, round ball of aluminum foil from her coat. without warning, she throws it into the meadow. as if on cue, a nearby spoink turns towards it and bounces over. it seems happy, evident only by how much higher it now bounces. absinthe sends aisling a sharp look.[break][break]

"now you can try to take the pearl without startling it."

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a sudden jolt of electricity courses through absinthe's body, searing pain spreading like wildfire as the water around her is electrified by the blast from Yujin Ha 's archaludon. her muscles seize, and for a terrifying moment, her vision blurs, the world around her turning into a chaotic swirl of light and shadow. the sharp scent of ozone fills her nose, overpowering even the smell of blood and saltwater. she fights to stay conscious, but the current is too strong, dragging her down into the abyss.[break][break]

as she struggles to keep her head above water, sanguinarine, absinthe's ever-vigilant crobat, screeches from above. the beast, having successfully led the civilians to higher ground, now turns its attention to its trainer, sensing her distress. with a powerful flap of its wings, sanguinarine dives toward absinthe, talons extended.[break][break]

absinthe can barely move, the remnants of the electric shock still gripping her muscles, but she forces her hand upward, reaching for her pokémon as it swoops down to her aid. sanguinarine's talons close around her, lifting her from the water's deadly grasp just as another surge of electricity pulses through the floodwaters below.[break][break]

as they ascend, absinthe's vision clears just enough to see the devastation unfolding around her. the water is rising faster than before, driven by kyogre's unrelenting fury. entire sections of the city are being swallowed whole, the ancient structures crumbling beneath the weight of the sea. it's a catastrophic vision, one that makes the hopelessness of their situation even more apparent. but there is no time for despair. absinthe must not mourn that which has not yet been lost.[break][break]

sanguinarine deposits absinthe on a dry patch of land, a small plateau still above the encroaching waters. she gasps for breath, her body shaking from the residual effects of the electrocution. but she doesn't allow herself to rest. her eyes fixate on the massive form of kyogre in the distance, its figure silhouetted against violent energy streaking across the sky.[break][break]

"sanguinarine," she rasps, her voice weak as she points an exacting finger in the water god's direction. "do what you can."[break][break]

sanguinarine obeys without hesitation, launching himself back into the sky. with a fierce flap of his wings, the crobat soars in kyogre's direction and sends a razor-sharp blade of air hurtling toward kyogre. the attack slices through the air with precision, aimed directly at the sea god in a desperate attempt to distract it or, at the very least, disrupt its rampage.[break][break]

L30olV_J

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absinthe adjusts the curves of the mask clinging to lower half of her face as she braves the glare of the midday sun. her gaze sweeps over the fields, cold and calculating, as if she is mentally cataloging each element of the landscape for some unknown, future purpose. the rhythmic thrum of the psychic pulse, faint yet insistent, is impossible to ignore.[break][break]

"yes," answers absinthe in a low, cold tone. "usually rocket does it for me nowadays. sometimes i need more than they are able to provide."[break][break]

absinthe's nose wrinkles. she would rather be in the lab right now. the chemist evidently isn't used to the sun, given the deathly pallor of her skin.[break][break]

the psychic energy in the air grows thicker, pressing down like a weight. "yes, i feel it," absinthe continues, her voice now almost a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the delicate balance of power in the clearing. "they're close. stay focused. i want those pearls by sundown."[break][break]

palming the pokeballs hanging on her waist, absinthe slowly creeps forward. where there is a mindnumbing effect, there are spoink. they need only to follow the trail now.

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a venomoth suddenly bursts from the underbrush in front of elise in a flurry of leaves, wings, and microscopic scales sloughing from its body in such large amounts that the air suddenly seems to glint in a purple shade. a bright spot of blood flows from a slash in its thorax, stark against its pale body. when it sees the kind-faced elise and the king she has brought with her, it wastes no time in approaching, as if in a desperate plea for assistance.[break][break]

moments later, absinthe slowly and silently emerges from the shadows behind it, dressed almost entirely in black, the lower half of her face hidden by a mask. the venomoth, startled, flies behind elise. the low light of the forest glints off of a scalpel's blade in absinthe's left hand.[break][break]

absinthe's eyes narrow. great. another bleeding heart. a flash of fury ignites in her heart.[break][break]

without preamble, the chemist addresses elise, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "there are places to play savior, and this is not one of them," she declares, her tone leaving no room for negotiation. "allow me at the venomoth. now."

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absinthe follows his gesture to the face of the golem, the only chance he has of understanding it. like morse code, or braille. an entirely new form of communication unique to the ones that came before. absinthe's eyes narrow.[break][break]

"the multiple worlds view of quantum mechanics theorizes that each new universe is the product of infinite variables shifted in the tiniest amounts," absinthe murmurs as she turns to follow howard back to the shrine. "like how shifting the alphabet by even one letter can turn a message into nonsense."[break][break]

she sets her eyes squarely on the shrine's silhouette in the distance. "and every cipher has a key."[break][break]

the chemist leaves it at that, falling into silence shortly thereafter. she instead focuses on how every sound throughout the cave echoes back until the sound grows weak enough to die, to fade into nothing. it is the fate of most humans, kept in remembrance for a generation or two before being thought of for the last time. howard strikes absinthe as the kind of man to be immortalized in history books. she wonders if he cares what side of history he will be on.[break][break]

"and history is watching you," absinthe chimes in. "for the future's sake, i hope you are able to kill a god."[break][break]

hope. a fickle word. naive, even. nonetheless, absinthe hopes.

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