The Professor's Secret

36. No Sore Losers

I wish I could calculate just how deep into the underground I was – the elevator's descend took longer than it did in any one of the tallest buildings in Lumiose. Once it stopped, nothing could be heard from either outside or inside the facility. I was happy to see no sign of Calem and the rest: they must be far ahead of us.

The metal door hinged open – the joints screaming from little use. I braced myself, expecting the villainous throw bad guys usually perform when caging a prisoner... but Lysandre lightly held me in his hands and put me down inside the cell right in front of him, as respectfully as he could - given the circumstances. He took his time facing me deeply from his position, performing a quiet investigation.

"What good was it to help in your friends' attempt, when you had already been captured? Why was it worthwhile, if you'd be spending the rest of your time here, locked away?" he inquired in what sounded like genuine curiosity, a scientist's speculation instead of a villain's teasing.

"Because... we must stop you..." I let out my shy voice in the dark.

His eyes shone a little brighter.

"I see." Was his composed reply "It's not glory you seek, but what you believe to be justice. There is no nobler deed than the effort of a selfless warrior whose sacrifice shall never be remembered." And he sighed "A dreary waste that I alone shall regret!" and, after casting his gaze into me for another minute, he took a step back, closed the cell door.

"Excuse-me" he finished before walking away.

I let in a rich breath – my chest ached, my bones trembled lightly. Being locked again, captured again... wretchedness reached me there at last, conjured by the gloomy grey walls and the still, silent air. And what a sensitive tyrant this one was – the way he looked at me was disturbingly sympathetic, disturbingly saddening.

I sat myself down on the cold metal bench and rested my mind in the fact that my friends were probably way ahead of Lysandre by now. Still, it took quite some time for the trembling to subside.

Slumber would not come and rescue me from such torturous wait – but even if it did, the nightmares would drive me crazy with bringing to life every possible outcome of that day, so I just lay there trying to count back how much time had passed by and to calculate how much more before it was all over.

A distant ray of blue light momentarily invaded my lonely cell – I recognized the sound of the automatic door beyond that area sliding open, and promptly closing itself again – before it did though, I briefly spotted the shadow of the visitor cast on the floor by the external illumination: The slender, tall figure I had grown to love and hate in equal measures had come to see me - How those much narrower shoulders, when compared to Lysandre's, intimidated! How the charming, chevalier-like pace unnerved me... And, at last, how the meek, friendly smile tortured me beyond madness!

My chest beat arduously as Professor Sycamore walked up to the cell door. A savage, unconscious agitation would have made me start running in circles if I'd listen to it, suffering that the predator should find me locked, from where I could not escape him.

He stopped, leaning against the door and casting a mocking, pitying glance my way.

"To think it would come to this, darling!" a sigh brought out his voice "That you would end up inside this place..."

I faced him – his amused smile avenged him on my prior escape as he derived a delicate and ruthless pleasure from watching the scene.

"Did your plan not turn out so well?" he teased, his voice stealing softly through the bars "Was taking down Team Flare not that easy after all?"