Hot Spot Cave's training area—deeper inside, beyond the residential buildings, but not near the lava—was awash with water, warming in the natural heat. Four Pokémon fought in the middle. Two were exhausted, collapsed on the ground. The other two waited patiently for their opponents to rise.
"I thought this would be harder," Willow pouted.
"You have to remember," Zena said, "they're not Mystic. They may be mutants, but that's sealed away, still. I doubt they're taking this too seriously, either. We're just sparring. Maybe they don't want to hurt us or go too hard."
Demitri gurgled in a puddle of Zena's Hydro Pump. Mispy staggered to her feet, her leaf trembling.
"Well, at least we got Demitri to evolve," Willow said, eying the Fraxure and Bayleef.
Demitri finally stood up, panting. "That's... that's right! So we're... totally making progress," he said. "Right, Mispy?"
"I might faint..." Mispy wheezed.
"If that's the case, we should just take a break," Zena said. "We don't want to push you too hard anyway—not when it won't be easy to subdue you in case... well..."
"In case we evolve?" Demitri asked, keeping his voice even.
Mispy nodded. "But... it doesn't feel like we'll evolve yet."
"Yeah, the other times we evolved, it always sorta felt like there was this... pressure, or this heat, in our chest, you know? A power that wanted to get out—and I don't feel that yet. So, we can probably go for a little while longer and be fine!"
"Demitri," Zena said flatly, "you can barely stand."
"I—I'll figure it out!"
"Maybe let your head do some thinking instead of your muscles," Willow said. "Turn off that battle-mode instinct!"
"I don't think we can!" Demitri tittered, picking at his tusk. "But... but I guess we fought enough..."
"We didn't," Mispy sighed.
"Well, when will it be enough?" Zena asked.
Mispy wasn't sure how to answer the question.
"...Let's just rest," the Milotic said. All of this fighting didn't suit her, and it was uncanny how well they adapted to such brutal techniques.
She turned and slithered back to the main square. Willow hopped onto her back and climbed to the top of her head. Demitri and Mispy reluctantly followed.
Rhys, Amia, and Gahi appeared in the middle of the square. At first, Zena was relieved that they returned safely, but then panicked when they realized only three came back.
"W-where's Owen?!" Willow said. "You lost Owen! You idiots! H-how could you—"
"Owen's okay—he's okay!" Amia said. "He just... wanted to go for a walk! Take the scenic way back! I'm sure he's okay. It isn't even dark out yet, okay? He should be back by lunch! Maybe late lunch... I told him before sunset, but I don't see him taking that long."
"And you listened?" Zena hissed, half-expecting steam to billow off of her head.
Willow was sparkling with angry, pink energy. "He could be hurt by the Hunters alone! What kind of a mother are you?!"
"Th-that's not—! I didn't mean to—he's okay! H-he's..." Amia sniffed.
Rhys tutted and stepped forward. "Willow, there is no strategic advantage to the Hunters striking Owen. He's unstable, and if he evolves, it could mean the end for them. Owen isn't aligned with Star or Ba—Arceus, and I believe they want to take advantage of that." He crossed his arms. "To add, I do not believe the Hunters want to harm Owen to begin with."
YOU ARE READING
Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Hands of Creation
Fiksi PenggemarIt started with getting stabbed. Later, mugged. Then, he forgets them both. Owen had lived a simple life with simple dreams, but an ancient conflict catches up with him, as does a forgotten past. With answers easily slipping away and chaos rising th...