Chapter Text
“You’re getting a lot better!”
Arven recalls his now-fainted Mabosstiff, a self-deprecating smile on his face. “Still can’t hold a candle to you though.”
Nemona shakes her head, ponytail swinging behind her with gusto. “No no noooo,” she cries. “Don’t do that! Seriously, don’t! I had a really fun time battling, but it’s no good if not everyone did…”
Arven winces. He hadn’t meant to make her feel bad with the comment, and he knows she hates that feeling of being compared to, or against, or anything like that, but it really just sorta… came out. He wasn’t thinking. “Sorry,” he says, “I had a good time, too. Really.” He pauses. “Thanks. For the battle, I mean.” Another pause. “I just…”
Nemona grabs his hands, nodding. “It’s fine! Totally fine. I get it—the League Challenge is no joke! But I think it’s super cool that you’re gonna give it a shot. Now, if only I could convince Penny to give it a go, too…”
Arven bites his tongue at the immediate thought that springs to the surface, that Nemona certainly hadn’t had any trouble with the Challenge, but he knows that bitterness is misplaced. Nemona’s worked hard to get where she is, and if other people don’t see that, that’s their problem. He does his best to quash his own narrow-mindedness, too.
He doesn’t bite his tongue at his next thought, though, and so he responds, “Good luck getting Penny out of their room long enough for that.”
Nemona laughs at his quip, before she realizes something and shakes her head, as if she's trying to get her thoughts back on track. “Anyway—and don’t think what I’m about to say is just me being nice, because I mean it—I think you’re making great progress! I mean, you’ve got yourself a really well-balanced team over the course of just one Treasure Hunt. That’s impressive—really, it is! And you’ve seriously gotten a lot better really quickly, too! It’s been really great to see.”
“Thanks,” Arven manages after a beat, shocked into momentary silence by the sudden shower of compliments. “I’m proud of my team, too,” he says, smiling at the thought of them. “And, again, thanks. For the help with battling, and everything.”
Nemona beams, and lets go of Arven’s hands. “I should be thanking you,” she says. “Anyway, you didn’t hear it from me, but at this point, I think you’d be able to breeze through at least a couple of Gyms already. Are you waiting until next year's Treasure Hunt, or…?”
“Oh, uh,” Arven starts. He did cite the League Challenge as part of the motivation behind wanting to get some battling tips from Nemona, and after the School Battle Brawl—because he’ll be damned if he ever calls it the ‘Academy Ace Tournament’—it really was something he was considering, but…
It’s not the Gyms he makes his way towards every night with a single-minded determination, it’s caves of crystal and waterfalls with ends always out of sight. It’s claws and cries and paradoxes from fur-flung and endlessly distant timelines. It’s Paldea’s greatest grave, research stations and labs and broken-down time machines burying the dead dreams of an obsessed professor.
But Arven hasn’t told anyone about it. About his nightly ventures down into Area Zero, about his countless attempts to capture the killer beast that awaits him, about any of it.
It’s only been a little over a week’s worth of effort so far, but Arven wonders if the toll has made itself present on his body, yet. If his eyes are baggier than he realizes, if his reflexes are weighed down more than he can notice. And yet, he persists. Trekking through the Great Crater, fighting off Paradoxes, reliving… well, everything, over and over and over.
He doesn’t make it all the way down to Lab Zero each time—he’s only really directly confronted the Raidon twice, now. Sometimes he gets too in his head to get any farther, sometimes he thinks he sees the same thing that hurt Mabosstiff the first time and his heart seizes and he can’t bring himself to keep going, trembling fingers desperately calling for an escape, and sometimes he rereads the notes and journals in the Research Stations and he finds himself paralyzed, frozen in place until morning.
And yet, he persists.
He feels the same way he did when he was trying to heal Mabosstiff—stopping at nothing, finding every opportunity and possibility and reaching for it with desperately outstretched fingers.
Arven wonders, sometimes, if this relentlessness of his is inherited, if it’s the same thing that fueled his—... that fueled the professor in their pursuits.
The thought makes him sick.
He also wishes he could get that stubborn determination of his to apply to something maybe just a bit more practical, like the studies that he’s still behind on after a truly excessive absence.
Well, anyway. He’s been leaving Nemona hanging for a while now, lost in his thoughts. What was she asking again?
“Uh,” he says, inelegant.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” she determines. “Guess that makes sense, you already did all that Titan Hunting as part of this Treasure Hunt, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” Arven gives her a thumbs up. “Gonna save up my energy for the League Challenge next year! Really build up my strategies and all that.”
“Fair enough!” She bounds over to the other side of the battle area, pulling out a different set of Pokeballs, examining them closely, blatantly running over new battle plans in her head.
“Hey, uh, Nemona?”
“Hm?”
“You’re not seriously thinking of a round two, are you…?”
“Of course I am!”
“But, uh—”
“I scratch your back, you scratch mine! I help you get better at battling, and I get more battles!”
“Y’know, I should really go and heal my team, so…”
“Oh, no, no no,” Nemona rushes back over, potions and revives in hand, and—holy shit, are those max revives? Little princess really can afford anything. “Penny already got me once with that old ‘go to the Pokemon Centre and then back to the dorm room’ trick, I’m not falling for it again,” she smirks good-naturedly, playfulness lighting up her eyes. “Just one more round, c’mon. While we’re both already out here!”
“Tch. Figures you thought this far ahead, bringing all this along,” he gripes, but there’s no real malice. “Fine, whatever! Let’s give it a go. I’m keeping all the extra healing items, though.”
Nemona cheers, running back over to the opposite side once again. She stops to catch her breath, her stamina still a crapshoot, and then sends out her Orthworm.
After another win in her corner, Nemona convinces him to go for a third round, Arceus in heaven, via the prospect of dinner at Sushi High Roller, her treat. The sight of sushi on his platter reminds Arven of the False Dragon Titan, so he regales Nemona with the tale, and Nemona responds in kind with her own anecdote about throwing a Dive Ball at a Dondozo, only for it to eat the ball whole, thanks to her poor aim.
Afterwards, under the shroud of night, he heads back down to Area Zero once again, and, this time, the Copperajah’s aren’t really a problem at all.
—
“Rockefeller, maybe it’ll be for the best if you sit out of these sorta fights for now,” Arven says to the Cloyster, who looks flabbergasted at the idea. “Aw, c’mon, don’t look at me like that, bud. Not all fights, duh, but just…” He peers over one of the cliff sides of Area Zero, trying to spot the flash of horns that indicate the Raidon’s presence. “Y’know. With the big guy,” he elaborates, backing away from the edge when he sees a crumble of rock chip away.
Rockefeller whines, pressing one of his spikes into Arven’s legs.
“It’s nothing personal! It’s just… that guy can really do a number on you if we get unlucky, and I wanna keep you safe.”
Arven wants all his Pokemon safe, so it seems almost excessively counterintuitive that he keeps on returning to Area Zero. But nothing life-shattering has happened yet, and he can’t get the idea of seeking out the Paradox out of his mind.
He told himself it was so he could prove himself.
Director Clavell would probably say that he’s ‘unhealthily projecting’ or something smart-sounding like that.
Nemona might agree with the idea of ‘proving himself,’ though. Maybe she’d say it’s like overcoming a final challenge, like beating the Top Champion as part of the Champion Assessment Test.
Penny would follow up on that, get more technical about it. Say it’s about ‘closure’ or whatever. Maybe say something about putting an end to all the vestigial parts. Cut away at the excess.
His little buddy’d just concede with whatever he said last, probably.
And that’s all fine. That’s all well and good and just… okay. It is. It’s okay.
And anyway, he doesn’t really need a reason or anything. Or—well, maybe that’s not true. Maybe it’s just not something he wants to think about. Which is, okay, yeah, maybe something Director Clavell would have some words about, but. Whatever.
Really, it just feels good to have a goal. To have something to do. Even if it’s something as stupidly dangerous as trying over and over again to explore Area Zero all on his own, all just to occasionally make it deep enough to encounter the Raidon and then try and fail to capture it.
But he’s gotten pretty close to the Zero Lab this time around, and he can see the beast in its usual spot. This’ll be his fourth time actually getting up close to it, and he made sure to actually stock up on Pokeballs this time. His third encounter with the Raidon was comically short-lived, having run out of Pokeballs to throw after his first toss.
Rockefeller trills as he rushes into a fight with a Glimmora, snapping Arven out of his stupor. Before Arven can give out an order, the Cloyster finishes the wild Pokemon off.
“Good job!” Arven calls out. “Sorry, wasn’t paying attention earlier, was just…” He swirls a finger around the side of his head, and Rockefeller nods in solemn understanding. Arven laughs. “Thanks, bud. Knew you’d get it.”
The Raidon lets out a roar, and Arven instinctively goes to hide behind a chunk of crystal. Rockefeller bounces after him.
“We’re getting close, now. Might be time for you to get back in your ball, Rockefeller,” Arven whispers. “Like I said, that guy’s bad news, but especially for you.”
Rockefeller closes his eyes and shakes, communicating a vehement ‘no’ very well for a limbless bivalve.
Arven frowns. “You wanna give it your all, huh?”
Rockefeller trills in the affirmative.
Arven sighs, but he can’t help the fond pets that he gives the Cloyster. “Alright, bud. Alright.” He lets out a long-held breath. “Alright.”
When he whirls around to throw Rockefeller’s ball at the Paradox, ready to start yet another fight, the Raidon doesn’t even look surprised.
—
“Hey, have you used your Master Ball yet?”
“Huh?” Penny swirls around in their giant chair, ears covered by comically-large Eevee-themed headphones. “Did you say something?”
Arven gestures to his ears, prompting her to remove the headset after pausing her latest anime of the week.
“What’s up?”
“Just wondering if you’ve used your Master Ball or not. Y’know, the one from Director Clavell.”
“Oh, that.”
“Yeah, that.”
“I sold mine.”
Arven drops his lint roller. “You what!? ”
Penny shrugs. “Not really something I’ve got a use for, dude. Money, on the other hand…” Another shrug. “Don’t think it’s that surprising.”
Arven leans over to pick up the dropped lint roller, peeling back another layer and throwing it in the nearby trash bag. “S-still, though. Those things aren’t exactly something you come across on the daily, right? Most stores don’t even take ‘em… Who the hell did you sell it to?”
“I’m happy with my Veevees,” she says, simply, as if that answers all of Arven’s questions. “And I’m not looking to fill in the Pokedex or anything, so… Yeah. The thing was pretty much useless to me.” Her eyes land on the roller in Arven’s hands. “Hey, seriously, you don’t need to clean my room.”
Arven moves it away protectively. “I am not letting you live in a room caked in Eeveelution fur.”
Penny sighs, leaning back in her chair and swiveling back around to her litany of screens. “Whatever, dude. It’ll just get caked again in a week.”
“That’s the logic of a five-year-old that doesn’t want to make their bed in the morning.”
“Well, funny that—I don’t make my bed, either.”
Arven finds himself offended beyond words, so he scans her room instead, looking for elsewhere to clean. His eyes land on a brand-new, unfamiliar figurine. With lint roller in hand, he points to it. “Is that what you spent your Master Ball money on?”
“Yeah?”
“Just that?”
“…Yeah?”
“There’s no way that one figure costs that much!”
“It does when you get express shipping from Kanto! Lay off, man! What do you even care?”
Arven huffs, making eye contact with the excessively expensive anime girl dressed in some Sylveon-themed dress. She’s even got the ears to boot. “I just… A Master Ball’s a big deal, right? We each got one, and only one… doesn’t it feel like something to really… think about?”
“I did think about it. It’s not like I made the decision as lightly as you seem to think I did,” she says, accusatory.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” they sigh. “And, yeah, I guess what I ultimately used the money on was a bit frivolous, but, hey. It makes me happy, so. Better than owning a Master Ball I don’t care about and that I’d never use, y’know?”
Arven thinks about all the research he’s done on ‘capture rates,’ and on how different Pokeballs affect them, and how the Master Ball is the sole exception when it comes to making captures without fail, and he thinks about Area Zero—it’s been hard not thinking about it, lately—and he nods.
“Yeah, I get it. You’re right.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Maybe I should sell mine, too…”
Penny offers Arven a pointedly skeptical look.
“What?” Arven asks, defensive.
“Now I gotta ask if that’s a decision you’re making lightly, dude.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Penny fiddles with their glasses, humming thoughtfully. “Just, y’know. The way you’re talking about them… makes me think something’s on your mind, is all.”
Arven frowns, crossing his arms. “Well, maybe there is, but…” He shakes his head. “It’s more like, I know I don’t wanna use it now, but…”
“You worried that’ll change?”
“...Maybe.”
What is Arven worried about? That he needs it as a safety precaution? That maybe one day he’ll give up and give in and just resort to it? That it’s the same ball the AI had used, and that he stupidly, so, so stupidly, wants to hold onto it like it’s some kind of symbol?
Penny stares at Arven, who is blatantly deep in thought, and groans. “Man, forget it. No matter what you’re thinking, you’re probably overhyping it either way.”
“Huh?”
“I’m just saying. Not the end of the world if you keep it, not the end of the world if you get rid of it, and not the end of the world if you use it.” She puts her headphones back on. “The world’s funny like that.”
Arven stares at the back of her chair, brows furrowed. “...Yeah, I guess it is.”
—
After four encounters with the Raidon ending in failure, Arven figures that it’s finally time to upgrade to Pokeballs with better capture rates. Which is, sure, yeah, probably something he should’ve done earlier, but, hey. Quick Balls were easy to take advantage of, and the generic brand Pokeballs were cheap. It was a fierce battle between his stubborn desire to stay the course and his logical reasoning to actually try harder before the logic won out.
In any case, he’s read promising things about Timer Balls and Dusk Balls… and maybe he’ll want to see if he can grab a False Swipe TM? Though he should probably check to see if any of his team can learn it first… He needs a few more potions, too. That, and groceries.
So he makes a shopping trip out of it, inviting his little buddy along, who invites Nemona, who invites Penny. They end up agreeing to a cooking session for dinner later that day, so that leaves groceries for last, and everything else for whenever the hell during their trip.
Their first stop is at a hobby store that Penny had their eyes on. They get roped into a conversation with one of Penny’s Team Star friends—Atticus, the Poison-Type user, who’s picking up some ninja-themed merch—and he’s nice enough, even if his… unique way of speaking leaves Arven floundering on occasion.
It’s a pleasant enough time, even after Penny gets into a debate with the cashier about whether or not the ‘original’ or the ‘remaster’ of some random video game was better or worse. She ends up leaving with an armful of various little charms and blind boxes.
“What’s even the point of those things?” Arven can’t help but to ask after witnessing Penny open up a fourth box and getting yet another duplicate.
Penny fiddles with another box. “The randomness of it is addicting,” she explains. “It’s kinda like gambling, but legal for minors. Plus, I can trade any duplicates I get with other collectors.”
Arven, Nemona, and the latest Paldean champion share a look, but they ultimately leave Penny to their fun. Arven’s just relieved they’re not in a region with Game Corners.
When Penny’s done with her boxes, she pulls out the charms she bought. There’s four of them—quite cute, Arven admits—each of a different Terastalization Jewel. She takes the Fairy-Type one and attaches it to her Eevee bag. Then, she grabs the other three and hands them to her companions.
“Aw, Penny! That’s so sweet!” Nemona gushes, quickly taking hers and attaching it to her Rotom Phone. “Thank you!”
Arven’s little buddy nods in agreement, grinning wide. They take theirs and place it on their bag.
Arven is given a Dark-Type themed keychain, and he smiles, tucking it safely away in his pocket and to be attached to his hiking bag as soon as he gets back to his dorm. “Yeah, thanks! Surprisingly thoughtful coming from you, pipsqueak!”
“Wh-whatever!” Penny flushes near-instantly. “I just saw them there on the rack and thought… Whatever! It’s no big deal. Let’s just keep going.”
A Delibird Presents is next on their trip, much to Nemona’s delight. She hovers over all the battle items, looking like she’s coming dangerously close to buying out their whole stock.
Penny’s a bit more out of her element here, and so she just stands around Nemona as the latter gushes about things like ‘Bottlecaps’ and ‘Choice Bands,’ which were holy crap levels of expensive, if nothing else.
The Delibird Presents has a nice variety of Pokeballs, too, so Arven starts combing through their inventory. Arven’s little buddy joins him in his search, and they pick out a few of their own as well, still dedicated to the task of Pokedex completion. When all’s said and done, Arven ends up with a nice handful of Dusk and Timer Balls, as well as a few Ultra Balls. And, of course, a pile of complimentary Premier Balls.
“Are you thinking of catching a new team member?” Nemona asks as the four of them walk out, her bags full of various battle items.
“Oh, uh,” Arven looks down at his own bag of purchases. “I… guess so?”
“That’s fun! I was gonna say, it’s not something you super have to worry about for the League Challenge, since none of the Gym Leaders or Elite Four members really use ‘em, but some Fighting-Type coverage would be nice for you to have! Is that what you were thinking?”
“Uh.” No, that’s not what Arven was thinking about at all. “Yeah,” he lies.
“I thought you didn’t like using the Box System,” Penny says. “What’re you gonna do with the extra guy?”
“Just won’t use ‘em for battles, I guess…” Arven answers, feeling suddenly scrutinized. “Y’know, like what my little buddy does with the brute.”
His little buddy smiles, supportive.
“Fair enough!” Nemona says. “I’m looking forward to seeing your new team member, then! What’ll it be?”
“Another food-themed Pokemon, maybe?” Penny hums, thoughtful.
“Huh?”
“Your team,” Penny states. “It’s pretty much all food-themed, y’know, except for your Mabosstiff.”
“What—is it?”
“It totally is, dude.”
“Yeah,” Nemona pipes up. “It kinda is. I mean, a Toedscruel, a Scovillain, a Garganacl, a Cloyster… Even Greedents are known for hoarding food! I guess your Mabosstiff is kinda like a sous chef?”
His little buddy simply nods.
Arven’s just kind of shocked with himself for not having realized earlier.
—
When using an Ultra Ball keeps the Raidon inside for significantly longer than Arven was expecting, he finds himself running away, leaving behind a confused Paradox Pokemon and a broken-open ball.
He’s not sure why he’s running away—Tamato is sprinting by his side, chittering at him with worry—but he is, and…
Is there something wrong with him?
Isn’t that what he wanted? He’s been trying to capture the damn thing, right? And, by using an Ultra Ball, he’s gotten closer than he ever has before.
But, for a second, when he thought it was gonna really click shut, he was filled with dread.
It would mean too many things, Arven thinks, finally succeeding. It would mean reaching an end to this goal of his, it would mean an end to having an excuse for coming back to Area Zero, where he can force himself to relive everything over and over, it would mean—...
It would mean really having to look this thing in the eyes, this thing that left him orphaned, this thing that—...
No wonder he stuck to those useless generic brand Pokeballs for so long. Self-sabotage works wonders sometimes, doesn’t it? Avoiding the teleport pads, not telling anyone else what he was doing, forcing himself to stop at Research Stations and making himself read and reread the professor’s notes over and over and over, trapping himself in his own whirlwind emotions—...
Arven told himself he wanted to capture the beast. He thought maybe he could relate to it. Learn from it. Try and figure out a new life alongside it. After all, they’ve got a lot to connect over, don’t they?
But—... But what would that really mean for him? For it? For the now-gone professor and the now-distant AI? Would it mean moving on, really moving on, in far too many ways for Arven to handle?
Would it really be an ending? Would it be a beginning? Of what? Is it happy down here? Is he happy up there? What would this collision of worlds do? How much of this is selfish? Who is this for? What is he here for? What is he proving?
Somewhere, in the vastness of this space filled with paradoxes and contradictions and crystals, the professor’s body lies dormant, free of the shackles of life. Somewhere, deep in the Zero Lab, a technological marvel wearing the face and using the voice of the one person Arven truly wanted the love of tried to kill him and his friends, before it left for good, chasing after pre-programmed hopes and dreams.
Somewhere, in the depths of a crater millions of years old, in the depths of a crater that will exist for another countless eternity, Arven falls to his knees, breathing heavy and deep.
“Cht! Cht!”
“I…” He can barely speak through his lungs desperately gasping for air. “I’m sorry, I was just—”
Scared. Terrified.
Furious.
He hates the anger building up inside him—he thought it was something he had finally managed to leave behind. It could never be that easy though, could it?
Nothing ever is.
The stupid time machine, that piece of crap AI, this bullshit ‘mission’ of his—he could throw up at the thought of it all, swirling in his mind like a maelstrom. He digs his nails into his head, trying to will it into silence.
Tamato pulls at his arm, trying to stop his Trainer from hurting himself any further, but Arven just tears his hands away and slams them into the ground. He keeps hitting the rocky surface until he bleeds, and then he keeps going.
And going.
And going.
And when he’s finally wrung free of feeling, his hands a mess of blood and stone, he lays on the cold, crystalline surface, held in the embrace of Paldea’s greatest grave.