Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Hands of Creation

Chapter 117 - The Shell

No matter how many times Spice ran her claws along her chest, the stone did not go away. She'd wondered if it was all a hallucination all the way back to Kilo Village, a long trek that had taken the bulk of the day. It was evening, now, in one of Kilo Village's hospitals.

She was afraid to pry it off of her, and some core part of her instincts—an instinct she was sure she didn't have before—told her that she shouldn't ever try to remove it. This time, she listened. The sense of dread she felt at the thought was equivalent to removing her own heart.

Leo was next to her, restrained in powerful, glowing bindings while sitting on the adjacent bed. Currently in front of her, inspecting the gemstone, was Phol, who asked her several questions. How she was feeling, if this hurt, if that hurt; all of it felt mundane to her. They'd brought in a Psychic or two as well, and found Spice to be of sound mind, but they had trouble with Leo. His own psionics interfered with theirs, and they eventually said that he was not stable and needed to be put under observation.

The Basin's effects were never this acute, not when they weren't even within the crater. Had its influence expanded? Yet, the only ones who would have been able to warn them... Anam, perhaps, or even Jerry... They were gone.

"All right, Spice," Phol said, "you seem to be healthy." The Incineroar looked over his charts, flipping a few pages. "But I want you to visit every few days. Do you want me to set up an appointment?"

"Yes, please. I may not care about the whole sleep thing, but this... this is different." She ran a claw around the emerald's edge again.

"Mm. Of course. And, your appearance..."

Spice winced. "I don't think I can face my family like this..."

"Hmph. Then I will go with you."

"Sugar would be terrified, and her poor kid, I don't really know if I want him to see..."

The gem wasn't that bad. The hexagons were probably 'cool' on some level. But she'd seen her reflection upon her arrival. She wasn't a Salazzle anymore. She had the vague shape of one, and when she looked with her own eyes, she seemed to be the same. But in her reflection, in the way she appeared to others, she looked like some kind of wraith. Her whole body had become a deep black; her eyes, featureless yellow lights.

Why, then, did she look normal to herself, yet not to anyone else? Was this some kind of curse?

"And about what you saw in the Basin," Phol went on, humming. "Do you want me to make a copy of everything you said, so you can remember?"

"Yeah. Just so I don't get it wrong. I need to put it to a report or something, maybe to Nevren when he gets back from his research."

"Mm. The basement of some building, a powerful Treecko, and Zygarde in your chest. If I didn't know you, I would have assumed you were coming up with some kind of elaborate prank."

"I still don't totally believe it," Spice admitted. "If it wasn't for this"—she gestured at the gem—"I would have thought it was all a dream."

"Mm." He nodded. "I'll get you a copy. As for him..."

During this whole exchange, Leo's eyes were darting between the speakers. Spice wasn't sure if he had blinked. He looked simultaneously afraid and eager of... something.

"He's... staying here."

"Leo... can you answer me?" Spice asked.

"Answer?" Leo repeated, his voice raspy. He cleared it. "Why am I here? What's all this for? Don't we need to go to the Basin to rescue someone... We need to save that voice, don't we? We're wasting time..."