Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Hands of Creation

Chapter 89 - Your Name

Nothing looked familiar to Owen. Thankfully, an adorably oversized information pamphlet—roughly half his height—did a good job at directing him to where to go and how to operate all of the strange devices given to him in this somewhat cramped living space.

The sliding door that had locked him inside this windowless room didn't budge, and he had tried very hard. His tiny, scaly hands clattered against the solid surface while he listened to Eon muttering on the other side. He wasn't sure if he wanted to talk to him just yet... but he was at least glad he was alive.

With his back against the doorway, Owen looked over the brochure that was nearly half his height. While it wasn't very colorful, it was very informational, and after spending so many days in the Nil Plateaus, having any sort of reading material was a mental breath of fresh air.

Some of the information was... basic, and he skimmed over most of it. He had no idea what sort of Pokémon needed to know what water could be used for beyond drinking. It was embarrassing; of course he'd use it to wash! Assuming they had Passho powder... There wasn't any mention of that. Only that they had Passho berries in the 'cold box,' which they then titled a refrigerator.

He knew of these things. Nevren had invented them, though prototypes were already moving around in Kilo to replace manual Ice work. Controlled Hail Orbs. Basic, mechanical pumps. Perhaps it was a similar technology here?

Everything seemed so advanced. It was like he was staring into Kilo's future, aside from the desolate wasteland everywhere.

Then again...

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Owen's new battle was a struggle to open the fridge. It had some kind of seal on it because he had to pull very hard before the door finally gave way with a sucking noise. Cold air washed over his toes first, then his knees and lower body. Curious, he breathed into the white interior of the lit fridge, creating a foggy cloud.

There were a few Passho Berries indeed. No powder. He'd have to eat and then be—

Eat?

This was food.

The brochure had warned him not to eat it all, but he was so hungry... Maybe he could just have one, since he probably should wash up, and—

Knock went the door and Owen's thoughts collapsed. Before he had the chance to answer, the door opened and revealed Corviknight Xypher and a woven, wooden basket in his beak.

He cawed and hopped inside; the door slid closed behind him.

"Um, hello," Owen said, reflexively trying to sense what was inside the bag. Without Perceive, he saw nothing. "What's that?"

"A gi—" Upon opening his mouth, the bag fell to the floor, and Xypher cawed loudly and beat his wings before ducking down and muttering under his breath.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay!" Owen said, raising his arms. "Didn't sound too heavy." And he didn't want something that could step on him by accident getting upset. Cautiously, Owen approached and pulled the red cloth back, but he knew what it was before he even opened it.

Bread.

A simple, golden brown, tough loaf of bread, its shape long and rounded. Next to it was a slightly overturned, but not ruined, slab of butter. Tiny, but present, only really enough for a few slices at best, unless he really rationed them.

Owen thought his heart had stopped. Hesitant, he reached forward, "I-is th-that f-for... me?"

"Yes! Yes, yes." Xypher nodded.

Before the phantasm disappeared before his eyes, Owen tugged the bag closer to him and dragged it to a small, raised portion of the dark ground that he recognized—based on the brochure—as a table. He placed the napkin on the table first, and then the bread, and the tiny ceramic plate of butter. There was a flat stick sitting at the bottom of the basket, and a palm-sized, flat clay container of some kind. Inside was an odd, red paste.