"In a the year 2170 a work-by-night hacker has just cracked one of Blue Light City's biggest Pokémon trafficking cases. However, when his clandestine activities are revealed to the world, he's forced to go on the run, or risk falling into the clutch...
Sorry! It's been a while. The Attic's been keeping me busy. They started giving me real work. I've been coding and scripting my whole life, but nothing like this. I'm learning so, so much. I keep it up I might find a way to take over the grid.
Anyway, enough about me. Marshal has a shot at a sponsorship! He's been speaking with Rocket Co. and they've been considering him. If they take him up and the league approves he'll officially be a Pokemon Master! He's been wanting this for so long and he's worked so hard, so I know he'll make it.
He keeps trying to get me to start training again. Even said he'll mentor me. But I tell him over and over again... that ship has sailed. I sold all my Pokemon when I quit the league... (except for Kofi. There was no way I'd ever give up my little Rookidee).
But lately, he keeps asking about my work. He doesn't know I work for the attic. He thinks I just do IT consulting... which is kinda still the truth... but... eh... I don't want to be a trainer. I want to be a hacker. So that's what I'mma do. Talk soon.
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"Trap it."
Iono spoke those words and Trev died.
Or so he could have sworn.
The Nidoking had been charging and was a mere few yards away from them. He'd tried to defy Iono's order to stay put, but his legs betrayed him. In fact, he felt as if he had no legs at all. He felt like he had no body at all. Hence the assumption of death.
The world had inverted in on itself. Intense vertigo wound its way around Trev, and when he tried to catch himself, he felt as if his bodyless form was falling further into abject nothingness. He heard the distant sounds of Kofi's terrified squawks-- echoes bouncing off the walls of the abyss. The Corvisquire had been with him just a moment ago, hadn't he? Where had he gone? Despite the distance of his voice, his furious wing flaps were a deafening sound.
When Trev tried to call out no sound came from him. He had no voice, much in the same way that he had no body. Feathers, thick and obsidian, fell around him, the size of elm trees. They covered him up; weighed him down; suffocated him. And then there was nothing.
When Trev came to, the humic smell of soil hooked into his nostrils. The scent took him back to his childhood when he was 8 or so. His mother had taken him to the botanical garden on one of the top levels. It was one of the few times he'd seen the sun in more than a few fleeting rays and it was so wonderful. Everything there was green, including the Pokémon. All of them rich and full of arboreal life. It was in stark contrast to this... where Trev was sure he was dead.
He pushed himself off the ground, soil sliding from his cheek in sloppy, moist clumps. Somehow, the ground was covered in dirt and brush, not asphalt. He looked up and saw thick, twisted trunks of dying trees and when he stared at them for too long ghastly faces seemed to form in the light and shadows. Everything around him looked to have dipped in a dusky aubergine. Then he noticed the sounds. A deep ubiquitous treble that felt like it would compress him into nothingness, accompanied by ad-libs of inhuman screeches in the night. Suddenly, the Nidoking's cry cut through them. That got his adrenaline going enough to will him to move. He had legs again, after all.
