ACL: 24. A live? Already? Natu shabby, eh? Ehh? (Patreon)

Chapter 24: A live? Already? Natu shabby, eh? Ehh?

POV: Cherie Vasil

Brockton Bay, NH, USA
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Type: Psychic

I got off the bus with my small backpack. It contained some basic toiletries, the latest laptop, a few changes of clothes, and some make-up. Sure, I could get replacements here, but it was always so much more convenient to carry them with me.

I winked at the inter-city bus driver and blew him a kiss. If I happened to lean a bit too far forward and he got a glimpse down my shirt, well, accidents happened. A wonderfully conflicted symphony rose up from within, a chaotic dance between two opposing violins. The melody was arousal and desire. The conflicting harmony a dissonant tune laced with self-loathing and reluctance. I was young enough to be his granddaughter after all.

Absolutely hilarious.

I skipped along, brown tresses bouncing behind as I danced to an orchestra only I could hear.

I loved cities. And people. Truly, I did. Out of everyone in my family, I considered myself the most extroverted. How could I not be when I heard the music in their hearts? Their deepest desires constrained by their morals, the quiet whispers that they didn’t dare let themselves entertain, the longing ambitions that contrasted in all these wonderful ways with words like “duty” and “responsibility.”

There was dissonance there, but it was an oh so wonderful form of dissonance. Chaos, but one that wove itself into a grand orchestra. Each person was a section in that orchestra with their own instruments and melodies and harmonies. Put them together, and the result was a grand performance that no one else could hear, a performance all for me.

I loved cities.

I checked into the nearest Marriott. It wasn’t anything splendid, not like in New York, but I wasn’t interested in the amenities anyway.

I paid normally of course. So many people didn’t realize that money was a resource; it was a thing that ought to be used, especially where digital records might be left behind. I saw no point in hoarding bills, especially when they were so easy to acquire. A flash of bare shoulders, a wink and a smile, the rising song of a violin, and all the cash I’d ever need could be mine.

After securing my home away from home, I stepped out into the morning light. There was much to do and people to find. I had to hurry if I wanted to finish before my brothers arrived; I doubted those pests were far behind.

I settled into the corner of an expensive cafe on the Boardwalk. I flirted with the manager before blatantly paying for my drink and scone by grabbing some bills from the tip jar. The constipated look on the barista’s face as she handed me my order was hilarious. Given the clanging cymbals I heard from her, I doubted she’d be working here within the week. Who knew? Maybe she’d even end up finding a better job after she quit.

That wasn’t my business though. I booted up my laptop and logged onto the cafe wifi. I pretended to work and listen to music as I allowed the song of the city to wash over me. There was a topology to it, a map of spiritual sound that only I could touch.

Armsmaster drove by on his morning patrol and I felt the swell of dramatic cellos as people recognized their supposed greatest protector. The sound was not unlike the cinematic music from Star Wars. From the man himself, I received the steady drumline of determination, the need to make a difference in the world. He was a dutiful man; I loved plucking at their strings.

Alas, that would have to wait. There was another, greater figure in this city. He was new to the scene, but mighty, no question about that. People were calling him a Triumvirate-tier cape, a hero so powerful that he made this city look like a too-small pond trying to contain a great white shark.

He was new, but that made him even better. My first choice was… risky. But him? A fresh, young mind, close to my own age and with such tantalizing powers?

How wonderful would it be to have him at my side? What beautiful symphony could we play together? He, as the most perfect orchestra and I, as his loving conductor.

No one could cage me then. My pesky siblings would be forced to return to daddy dearest empty-handed. I wouldn’t have to hop from town to town anymore, afraid to sleep for fear of my brothers finding me before I was ready. With a protector like Menagerie, I’d have the freedom to be myself.

Hell, it might even be fun doing the whole hero thing. Sure, it wasn’t exactly the family business, but needs must. Relationships were about compromise after all. Or so I’d been told anyway.

For all that he offered? I was considering it. I could make him even more beloved than ever before. He’d never have to fear anyone turning the court of public opinion against him. He could set the tone as the city played faithfully along, the Pied Piper that would shape this whole city in his image.

I liked the sound of that. I always said daddy was too short-sighted. Why settle for immediate gratification and risk losing it all when he could have had so much more?

Yes, with Menagerie, it’d be possible. I could have the reach daddy should have had. After all, they said that behind every great man was an equally great woman.

X

POV: Blake Isley

Brockton Bay, NH, USA
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Type: Psychic

Psychic. Fire, then psychic. That was my type for the day, as if Arceus wanted to drive home the point that I now had a motherfucking Legend squatting in my soul. I wasn’t complaining. Titania was the most versatile member of my team and a huge part of that was her psychic power.

I stepped out of bed and downstairs to fix myself breakfast. There, I found Leah waiting for me, dressed in her “stylishly” cut up red sweater and gray khakis. She flipped something in hand and tossed it my way like a ninja star.

She missed, because she wasn’t as cool as she thought she was. Alas, sisters…

“Yo. Mornin’, asshole,” she called with a jaunty wave.

I reached to catch it, fumbled, and almost dropped it into the sink. I turned and flipped her off. “I don’t need to know what you had for dinner, Leah.”

“Really? You went there?”

“No, you did.”

“Bitch-ass dickhead. That’s your fake. See if I do anything nice for you.”

I turned over the card. Sure enough, it had my face on it, but was assigned to one “Brett Meyer,” twenty-two years old. I’d almost forgotten about this thing. After I got Faultline to make a fake identity for Emily, I had Leah get me one instead. “Huh, thanks, Leah.”

“You’re welcome. We’re even now though.”

“We are. You have a good one,” I called as I jogged out the door. I didn’t know what I was going to do with a fake ID, it wasn’t like I needed to get into the Palanquin in my civvies, but it couldn’t hurt to have around.

X

School came and went and I spent most of it thinking of different things to do with my time as a psychic. After all, alpaca forbid Menagerie be boring. No, that would be against my religion or something. It was probably up there in whatever Arceus’ equivalent of the Ten Commandments were.

I felt an intense surge of emotion burst from my soul. It burned white-hot with excitement and… mischief…?

I let out a small laugh as I walked out the school courtyard. It was Victini. She’d been so silent that I almost forgot about her. All the power of a Legend, stored in the body of a mischievous little gremlin.

“Fine, fine, you want to have fun, don’t you? Can you even see the world right now?” A surge of affirmation filled my mind, washing me in a warm glow as if I’d stepped into a hot shower. “Alright then. How would you like to be an Alolan raichu?”

I snuck into my base and crossed paths with Emily. She was seated in the lobby of the south ferry station with a huge canvas rested atop a driftwood easel. Taped to the canvas was a printout picture of me as tyranitar.

“Hey, Em, how’s it going?”

“Blake!” she said with a big grin that lit up her entire face. She got up and gave me a tight hug. “It’s going great, thanks to you. I made a bunch of money and even got a few people ask for commissions.”

“Oh? I’m glad. And don’t thank me; you’re the one who actually painted all of it,” I replied with a laugh. I put a hand on her head and gently pushed her off me. “What was the commission about?”

She waved at the canvas. The tyranitar was just a sketch, but one I knew would turn out almost as realistic as the photograph. “This! I didn’t really want to drop my phone number so I said I’d reach out to them on PHO. I’m getting $500 for just this one!”

“I’m happy for you, Em.”

“Say, any new forms you can show me?”

“Maybe? You’ll just have to keep an eye on PHO. I think you’ll like this one.”

“Oh, fine. Go on then,” she waved me off.

Dressed in my armor, I headed out of the abandoned ferry station. Then, when I reached the wooden planks that marked the start of the Boardwalk, I kicked off into a running start.

People pointed at me as I dashed by. A few called out to try and grab a picture, but I had other things on my mind. With Coil gone, I was free to enjoy myself. I decided over school that I’d let my hair down and relax today.

And I couldn’t think of a single psychic type more mellow than Alola’s greatest surfer.

I hoisted myself up the wooden railing and leapt off into the sea. At the apex of my arc, I shouted, “Shift, Alolan raichu!”

Turning into a pokemon for the first time with Victini in my soul was a fascinating experience. I felt her excitement at the novel experience. I felt my own mild revel in the freedom my power granted me. And I felt raichu, the chillest, most relaxed pokemon I could think of this side of the slowpoke family.

I shrank until I wasn’t much taller than Victini. Electric pouches formed on my cheeks, sending a pleasant jolt through my face. A tail sprouted from my back, whipcord thin save for the end which flattened out into a surfboard.

I let out a jubilant laugh as a wave swelled beneath my feet. Clutching my board, I paddled in the water for a second. Then, when the wave crested below me and threatened to pass me by, I raised a surge of static through the board and hopped on, clinging even as the water carried me forward.

I rode the wave until it broke against the Boardwalk. Then I built up a current of lightning and watched as people marveled at the crackling lights as a wave of electricity carried me out to sea.

Again and again, I rode the waves. There weren’t many good ones here in New Hampshire, but I didn’t need many anyway. The beauty of being sub-three feet tall was that I could ride inside the barrel of even some of the smaller waves. It was delightful. I’d never had much of a chance to surf in either of my lives, but I could see why people woke up at the crack of dawn to do this in California and Hawaii and whatnot.

Laughing, I kickflipped my own tail and stood on the wooden railing before falling into a flourishing bow.

“Yo, it’s Menagerie!” I heard. One of the tourists, a deeply tan fellow, ran up to me and offered me a high five. “How’re the waves, man?”

“Brah, they’re great. Swell even.”

“Do you know how to surf or does that come with your form?” another asked.

“Why aren’t you a dragon? You said if you could be a dragon, you should be a dragon, right?” a third voice called.

I looked around as the crowd began to fill in the space around me. Giving an interview wasn’t really my thing, yesterday proved that, so I did the only thing I could. I leapt forward, onto some girl’s hat, and scrambled atop her head. She yelped and reached up to grab me but I was already gone, skipping from head to head as if I was playing hopscotch.

Then, when I was closer, I leapt onto a utility pole and scurried up its side like a squirrel. I clutched a power line and felt the hum of electricity running beneath my paws. I suppressed the urge to nibble on the snack and looked down to face my admirers.

“Now, I have only one thing to say to you all,” I said.

“What?”

“Cheese is overrated. It’s all about the pancakes!”

With those sage words of wisdom and a cheery wave, I did a little backflip and landed on another power line. The electricity beneath my feet surged forward at my call, ferrying me away.

X

I rode the power lines all the way to Lord’s Market, doing kickflips all the while. I even tried out a handstand but almost fell into oncoming traffic because my paws weren’t nearly as “smooth” when it came to riding currents as my tail. A quiet chortle in the back of my mind told me Victini was having fun at my expense.

“Laugh it up, you little gremlin,” I muttered. “At least I don’t fly with butt-flaps.”

An indignant squeak sounded in my ears but I ignored it in favor of dropping down onto the parking lot. Lord’s Market was a lot smaller because it was Wednesday, but it still saw a fair bit of traffic.

I paid the $20 necessary for a small lot, effectively just a parking space, borrowed a permanent marker from a nice old lady, and fetched some cardboard. A minute later, I leaned back with a happy sigh as I eyed my new sign.

“Menagerie’s Misfortune Management Memorabilia,” It read. Sure, I was no smeargle, or Emily, but I thought I did alright.

I kicked back on another section of cardboard and held my sign out for passersby to see.

The first to drop by was a middle-aged black man with a potbelly. “Hey, you’re that hero, right? The new changer-Eidolon?”

I frowned in my helmet. “Is that what they’re calling me?”

“Yeah, you’re him, aren’t you?”

“I guess. I’m Menagerie.”

“What’re you doing lying around on a parking spot?”

I gestured to the sign. “I’m running a fortune teller’s stand. Want your fortune read? I have a form that’s precognitive, but in that vague, storybook prophecy kinda way, so I figured this might be fun.”

“This says memorabilia. You’re not selling anything though.”

“Uh… I failed English, alright? Stay in school and all that. Or you’ll end up a homeless fortune teller like me.”

He scratched his belly and let out a bark of laughter. “Hah! I’m a little old for that vanilla hero speech, kid. Sure, why not? What does a fortune cost me?”

I hummed in thought. I hadn’t actually thought this far ahead. “Hmm… Let’s just say this is a good deed, eh? Pay it forward and all that.”

“Really?”

“Or five bucks,” I replied with a shrug. “Seriously, I’m not that hung up on payment. I’m mostly doing this for fun anyway.”

“Alright, so how’s this work?”

I got up and dusted my armor off. “Like this. Shift, xatu!”

I shrank a few inches, grew a lot of colorful feathers, and earned myself a bit of a headache. Xatu were said to see into the past and future simultaneously. They weren’t the strongest psychics out there, but when it came to divination, they had few peers.

In fact, people in ancient Johto treated the arrival of a xatu in their neck of the woods as a sign of ill omen, not unlike the way people treated absol in Hoenn. This was because many pokemon evolved through stress and natu were no different. When tragedy loomed on the horizon, the mental stress could be enough to trigger evolution for older natu, giving the flock a way to either defend themselves or teleport away from danger.

That excellent talent in divination crashed down on me and I wasn’t initially prepared for the sheer quantity of information that streamed into my mind. It almost felt as if the information had a physical weight to it.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. It wasn’t so bad once I got used to the sensation of seeing more than what was currently before me.

Behind him, I saw a few people lining up to ask questions. Some were like the man before me, just roaming the flea market for junk, while others were just getting off work or were students hanging out with friends. Judging by the cameras, I doubted the line would remain short for long.

I spoke to the line as a whole. “Alright, here’s how this works. You can ask me any question you want. Just one. If you ask me stupid questions, expect stupid answers. No follow-up questions so phrase them well. Ask, get your answer, and move on.”

The middle-aged man grumbled but nodded. “Alright, guess I get to kick things off. I’m thinking about getting a new apartment near the Boat Graveyard. Should I?”

My eyes glowed an azure hue as I took in psychic power.

“Hmm… Given your financial situation, I wouldn’t bother. Unfortunately, real estate companies like Stansfield REIT are buying up land to develop there. Landlords will sell and rent will go up as property management companies cash in on the cheap real estate. Unless you can buy to own, renting there won’t be much cheaper than anywhere else in the city for long. Although, I am of course speaking with a long-term perspective. If you just need a cheap place to crash for a year or three, it’s not a bad bet. Try the property management office at the corner of Wilshire and Brooksfield.”

“Huh… Thanks, Menagerie,” he muttered as he shuffled off.

The next person to drop by was an old granny with a walker. “Say, sonny, when will my daughter give birth? I want to be there to support her at the hospital.”

That brought a smile to my face. Or, I would have smiled if I didn’t have a beak at the moment. Still, this was a question I’d happily answer. “Sixteen days, madam. She will go into labor at four in the afternoon and finish giving birth by next dawn. The birth will have mild complications but will not require my or Panacea’s aid.”

Then came another middle-aged man. This one looked like he could be Thai? Filipino? Some kind of Southeast Asian. He jabbed a thumb towards the sea. “Will the weather be good enough to go fishing this weekend?”

“Clear skies, all ‘round,” I nodded and let out a happy chirp. Then I paused. I saw something in the distance. Snow? A flurry, but one that may or may not materialize depending on the decisions of an individual. “Wait… Hold on…”

The future didn’t work like this. In truth, most people could influence the path they were on and a few others nearby. Most people were represented by very thin strands in the Grand Tapestry after all. The average person certainly couldn’t dictate the weather at will. I didn’t know of a single cape that could either, actually.

Those that could were powerful pokemon with incredible attunements towards ice aura. Which meant me. I was the ambiguity in my own vision. There was no one else who could potentially bring a blizzard to bear. Which meant… Ice. I’d have ice again on Sunday.

“Saturday will be clear,” I continued, happy to have found something out for myself. “Sorry, I’m not sure about Sunday, mostly because I might end up doing something on my own.”

“You’re… going to change the wea-” he spoke in clear disbelief, only for me to cut him off with a raised wing.

“Nope. One question only. You have your answer. Next!”

The next person in line looked at the fisherman. “Huh, actually, this is weirder. So you can change the weather? How?”

“I have a pokemon that can do it. Who knows? I might make it hail if Vista doesn’t let me build an ice rink again. Next!”

The next man looked me over and scoffed. “How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

“Well, Rick, if you were more trusting, maybe Eloise wouldn’t have dumped you in high school the night before prom. You’ve always thought of her as the one that got away and you’re right, she is. I see divergent paths, yours could have been happier had you not accused her of cheating on you.”

“I-Wha-”

“Next!”

A child came up to me next. “Wow, Mr. Menagerie! Can I have an autograph?”

“You can, but not right now. No fingers to sign with, see? Stick around for a few minutes.”

I answered a few more questions before running out of time. Then I took the chance to sign a few autographs and ran down my timer. Once a minute had passed, I shifted back to xatu and began to answer more questions.

“Yo, Menagerie,” said a boy wearing a baseball cap. He looked like he was about my age. “What were you doing five years ago, dog?”

“Five years ago at this time, to the minute, I was in my room doing homework. It was the ninth question on page 233 of the Numbers and Basic Arithmetic textbook, second edition, used by a lot of middle schools in the city if you want me to be specific.”

“Holy shit…”

A girl I could best describe as emo-punk came up to me next. “Does… Does it ever stop hurting?”

I looked into her past, just to see if I should avoid saying anything insensitive. Then I promptly rolled my eyes. “Your ears will stop ringing if you tone down your earphones. Or get better taste in music than screamo. If you’re talking about your period cramps, yes, in four days. Next!”

She shot me a dirty look but moved out of line.

The next girl to show was pretty, blonde with green eyes and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She wore fashionable green earrings that made her eyes pop and a white, airy blouse that just barely hinted at her curves. She wore an easygoing smile but I could tell from years of training how tense she was. She looked like she was ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.

Then she met my eyes and visibly forced herself to relax, not out of a feeling of safety, but because she knew she couldn’t get away and resigned herself to my decision. That didn’t bode well for her, whoever she was.

“So…” she trailed off, “a free question, right?”

“Yes. Ne-”

“Oh come on!”

“Fine, fine. I’m not that mean. Make it count.”

She took a deep breath that became a quiet sigh. “Alright, here goes nothing. Look, some things happened, good things that I’m happy about, but I’m in a position where I’m not sure what else to do with my life. I guess… I have a bit of freedom now and I’m trying to decide what I should do. Part of me wants to leave the city. Another part wants to stick around and… maybe, maybe do some job hunting, you know? I guess I could use some advice. What would keep me safe and happy in the long run?”

I let out a contemplative chirp. That wasn’t an easy question. Lotto numbers? Those were easy; they were fixed data points. Weather? Mostly fixed unless I did something about it. Someone’s happiness? Now that was hard. Happiness was a metaphysical thing at the best of times and grasping it was like trying to catch smoke in hand.

Still, I promised her an answer. This young woman clearly needed my help so I would try.

I looked into that metaphysical well of knowledge, only to discover why she appeared so resigned. Happy, yes, but also resigned to her fate. This was Tattletale, born Sarah Livsey and now Lisa Wilbourn. She was happy because Coil had recruited her at gunpoint and was no longer a factor, resigned because she stood before me.

This was… unusually vulnerable of her. This was her throwing in the towel, at least where I was concerned. This was her admitting that so long as I was around, being a villain wasn’t worth it. She was throwing herself at my mercy with the assumption that I wouldn’t arrest her.

A tad cocky perhaps, but that was just how she was. I wouldn’t begrudge her that slight sense of self-reliance. Besides, she was right. There was such a thing as unredeemable, but Lisa hadn’t crossed that line, not by a longshot. It just wasn’t in my nature to punish her simply for the sake of making her life worse.

I felt a spark of flame burn merrily in my soul. It swayed with the comforting warmth of a winter fireplace, the passionate love of family. Victini and I were of like mind on this.

I held out a comforting wing. Lisa reached out and took my feathers in her hand. She gasped as I shared with her the visions of what had transpired before. Memories flew by, not mine, hers.

The most important of them was a face. A teenage boy with blonde hair and green eyes not unlike Lisa’s own.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I whispered. I willed my feelings to reach her. Truth was, Lisa didn’t need a fortune teller. She needed empathy, for someone who knew the truth to tell her it was alright, that she wasn’t to blame.

“I-” she stammered.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I repeated. I turned my gaze to the future. She had a gift, a gift for information and manipulation in equal measure. She could be the downfall of so many good people, or the salvation of countless.

And yet, that wasn’t the question. What would make her happy?

At her core, Sarah Livsey was a young girl who ran away from home. No, not a home, I couldn’t in good conscience call that a home. She ran from the abusive assholes she was forced to call parents. In a way, she was someone who was desperately searching for a home, a place to belong.

For a time, she wondered if she’d found that with the Undersiders, but that illusion had too many cracks to fool her. With Coil holding the strings, she could never feel fully at home. She knew that they’d turn on her in an instant if their boss leveraged the right threads.

Could I give her a home? I wondered. Could I provide her a place to belong?

A torrent of flame almost overwhelmed me and I let out a small, crooning laugh. The Star of Victory was willing to make the attempt. Who was I to deny her then?

Finally, I spoke again. “Stick around, Lisa. If you’re willing to stay, I think I can find a place for you.”

She stared at me with puffy eyes. I didn’t know what she saw, but she nodded and stood off to the side.

I shifted back.

“Alright, I’m starting to get a bit of a thinker headache, so let’s do five more before we go,” I lied. A xatu could keep going from sunrise to sunset, but I had no patience for that. Besides, I thought I might potentially have an idea.

Lisa needed friends, funding, and legitimacy. If I played my cards right, I could see this working out in her favor on all accounts.

A minute later, I shifted back and continued answering questions.

The next in line was another young girl, several years my junior. She looked like she could be as young as thirteen, though that could just be a quirk of genetics. She had short, brown hair and an innocent smile. But by the way her eyes glinted with mischief, I doubted she was truly innocent.

“So, Menagerie,” she said with a sly grin.

“Yes?”

“How anatomically correct is your penis right now?”

I choked on my own spit. So did half the people watching. “I’m not answering that.”

“You promised me an answer.”

I groaned. “Arceus damn it; there’s always one. Fine, you want an answer? Let me spit some biology at you: Birds do not have genitalia in the way mammals do. Both males and females have openings called cloaca. When birds mate, they rub this opening against each other, passing sperm onto the female’s cloaca. So no, there is no penis in this form because birds don’t mate that way. Alpaca above, what’s wrong with you kids? Next!”

“Alright, but what about Luca from your game? Does he have a knot?”

I generated a small gust of Tailwind to shove her bodily to the side. “Next!”

Thankfully, the next guy was normal. He looked like the average office drone, one of tens of thousands in this city alone. He was smiling at the girl’s question but quickly schooled his expression when I glowered at him. “Ah, hey, Menagerie. Should I quit my job?”

I looked ahead and nodded. “Actually, yes. Your boss will try to be a dick about it, but you've got good odds of finding a job with equivalent or better pay in the next month if you put your back into it. You’re smart, work hard, and you honestly should have been promoted two years ago but they kept you around because you were too expensive to replace.

“Start by building a shortlist of competitors you wouldn’t mind working for. Then go look for an executive recruiter by the name of Terrence Brown who works for an HR consulting firm by the name of Stricker & Gale. He’s the one who meshes with your personality best and will represent you well if you let him.”

“Huh, thanks. That was way more detailed than I expected. I’ll think about it.”

I waved him off. He didn’t truly believe me, but that was fine. It was my lot to give people advice. Whether they complied or not was their prerogative.

My next petitioner was a familiar face. “Sabah?”

The petite Arabic girl looked as stylish as ever with a dark-brown scarf to match her tan top. The embroidery on the hem of her top looked hand-woven. I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear she did it herself.

“Hey, Menagerie. Mind answering a question?”

“For my tailor? Of course! Have two,” I said with a laugh. “That was one, by the way.”

Her nose scrunched in an adorable pout. “You’re really not as funny as you think you are.”

“Lies! I’m hilarious. PHO says so.”

“PHO is a den of idiots and degenerates. Being a famous internet meme really isn’t an accomplishment.”

“Fine, everyone’s a critic. What can I tell you, Sabs?”

“My business idea… Should I start it?”

I let out a laugh that was part chirp. My eyes glowed one more time as I looked ahead, just to be sure. “Of course you should! You’re the best tailor in the city! And, just because you’re one of my favorite people, I’ll even throw in a freebie. I know you’re worried about the business portion of your burgeoning brand. I just happen to know a certain young lady who is more than qualified to be your assistant in such matters.”

Lisa blinked at that. She looked at me, then at Sabah. “Me?”

“Well why not?”

The way I saw it, Lisa was looking for security first and foremost, both financially and physically. Given Sabah’s frankly ridiculous talent and my own material contributions, her brand would be as successful as Lisa could make it. Better, Sabah was one of the few people in the city with my personal guarantee of safety. I’d made that clear with my thinly veiled beautifly shopkeeper. There was no ambiguity here.

Of course, Lisa knew this. She was far from stupid, at least when it came to reading between the lines. On the one hand, I was offering her my protection through association with Sabah. In another circumstance, before Coil, she would have taken it poorly. She would have seen it as a velvet glove over an iron fist.

And yet, she’d come to me first. She’d already resigned herself. In that vulnerability, she was able to see what this really was for me: Trust.

I was trusting her with Sabah’s safety and well-being. I was trusting her to assist her in her brand, but also to warn me of impending danger should my intervention become necessary. And, perhaps if she proved she could be trusted with Sabah, I would dare to trust her with even more.

Lisa took a deep breath and held out a hand. “Hi, I’m Lisa Wilbourn. I hear you’re looking for an assistant?”

Sabah looked down at the hand, then up at Lisa. I found it amusing that the younger girl was a good six inches taller. Then, with more confidence than I knew she felt, she took Lisa’s hand in a firm shake. “Sabah Azimi. And yes, I hear you come highly recommended.”

I smiled as the pair walked off to hash things out on their own. Sabah was why I’d had Lisa stick around after all.

The last two questions weren’t nearly as interesting, but that was fine. I was asked the lottery numbers, to which I informed him that there were thinkers specifically tasked with ferreting out interference. I wasn’t sure if they would be able to discern my own hand, but I wasn’t about to give out numbers for some random person. He… wouldn’t have used that money well…

The final person was just a teenage boy who wanted to know if his crush would ever love him. Unfortunately, she would not. I instead pointed him towards his school’s baseball coach, a man I knew could mentor him well should he keep an open mind. He’d be a lot happier if he stuck with the sport for a few years.

My self-imposed task done for the day, I shifted back into raichu and leapt onto the nearest power line. I hoped there would be some good to come from my nuggets of advice, as spontaneous as they’d been.

On my end, It was only six in the afternoon, allowing me to make it to the orphanage for dinner, for once.

I was halfway there from the south ferry station when I received a text from Faultline.

Melanie: I have your friend’s ID and Elle would like to meet you. You can drop by tonight to pick up those papers.

Blake: Thank you very much, Mel. Tell Elle I said hi. I’ll see you all in a few hours.

X

Dinner with the orphanage was… nice… There wasn’t any real way to describe it. The little shits were loud but adorable, Mark regaled us with stories about his dance practice, and Leah tried to hide a hickey so the kids didn’t think she got into a “fight.” Again. Derek was off doing something or other. I’d apparently set a precedent and he’d been skipping out on our shared meals as well.

There were only two things of note: First, the charity that sponsored this orphanage, and a few like it, received a huge influx of donations thanks to my video game. I’d hidden it among a list of a dozen or so charities that people could donate to so I hadn’t been sure how much of a windfall that would be. Apparently, I’d underestimated my own popularity because the cashflow was enough for our parent organization to open several new jobs throughout the city.

For us, Mrs. Wells explained that we might be getting a new assistant caretaker. That was good. Mrs. Wells was great, but she was just one person caring for over a dozen kids. She’d never had time for us older kids, and though most of us tried to help out in one way or another, we were still students in the end. Having another adult around wouldn’t be a bad thing.

On a related note, she told us about a young woman who just rolled into town. She’d met her while she was out shopping, and she seemed perfect for the job. She seemed kind, smart, and had a lot of experience raising young children in her previous job. Mrs. Wells called it “God’s blessing,” which made most of us roll our eyes.

After dinner, I finished my homework as soon as possible and excused myself. The orphanage seemed to be running smoothly. The garden was still full to bursting with berries, the kids were happy(ish), and we were looking at some more adult help to take some of the burden from Mrs. Wells.

I’d always worry, the Egg House was home, but for now, I turned my attention to the Palanquin.

X

The Palanquin sat atop a hill, mere blocks away from ABB territory. To this day, I still wasn’t sure how Melanie had managed to claim this hill for herself without inciting a fight with Lung. Maybe it was that Lung respected professionalism? Or that she expressly showed no interest in holding territory beyond her immediate headquarters? Either way, just the fact that the Palanquin stood as an independent location was proof of her competence.

As an unofficially cape-owned club, the venue was popular. There was apparently a sense of danger to visiting a “villain’s bar,” even if that villain was as mild as Faultline.

I strolled straight past the people, ignoring their flashing cameras. I was clearly inhuman, a creature straight out of a Saturday morning cartoon. I had a balloon-like body, two arms, and four, squat legs that let me waddle around like the world’s most awkward spider.

“Wobbuffet!” I saluted, greeting each person as I passed by.

The mentality of a wobbuffet was… interesting. There was no strain or conflict like with mimikyu, but that was more because the “patient” pokemon saw the world in a completely alien way than because it was an inherently agreeable creature.

The tail was everything. The black, face-like tail had to be guarded; nothing else mattered. As far as I was aware, it held every single important nerve ending and organ save the digestive system, to the point that it wouldn’t be out of the question to say the blue, bulbous body was in fact the tail, a decoy that would absorb and counter every attack while the main seat of identity went unnoticed and unharmed.

I waddled forward, my blue body swaying with the wind. Even compared to normal humans, this form was slow and sluggish, enough that a man could keep pace at a leisurely jog.

When I got to the bouncer, I held my arm in a snappish military salute. “Wobbuffet!”

He looked at me like I was a particularly stupid child. “What the fuck are you supposed to be?”

I couldn’t resist. I snapped off another salute. “Wobbuffet!”

“Alright, you look creepy as fuck. You Menagerie?”

“I am. I’m also a wobbuffet.”

“Well turn back ‘cause your shit’s holding up the line,” he said with a no nonsense scowl.

I poofed back with a sheepish grin he couldn’t see. I scratched the back of my helmet. “Ah, sorry about that. I like to try new forms.”

“Yeah, all good, man. You here to grab a drink?”

“What? No, I’m not here fo-”

“Then fuck off. Either grab a drink or get lost, bub,” he interrupted me.

I paused. He had to know who I was. He also had to know Melanie was Faultline. He wasn’t an idiot; Melanie didn’t seem the sort to tolerate idiots. Which meant I was the idiot here.

I thought about it and remembered. In the very first email she sent me, she asked that I be discreet. She was a cape who valued her neutrality; that was one of the main reasons she wasn’t molested by any of the factions. If she started to openly associate with me, people might take that as a message that she was willing to involve herself in the city’s affairs.

“Actually, you know what? I think I’ll have that drink after all,” I said. I made a show of pulling out a hundred and put it in his breast pocket. “Sorry about showing up as a random pokemon. I didn’t mean to startle anyone.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled exaggeratedly. “You don’t cause any trouble and we won’t give you a hard time. Doesn’t matter who you are here, no powers. You dig?”

“I dig,” I said with a nod.

“Good. Don’t go start showing off for a pretty face.”

He pulled the door open for me. The music pounded in my ears and the lights flashed to the tremors of the bass. I was glad I’d shifted out of wobbuffet. The pokemon were nocturnal in the extreme and loathed lights and shock.

I headed to the bar. There, I found a young man dressed in a snazzy, collared shirt. He had long, blonde hair he kept tied in a ponytail to keep out of the drinks. He saw me coming and finished up mixing a fruit cocktail before turning to me.

“Why don’t you take a break, Justin? I got this one,” another voice said. In walked Melanie Fitts, wearing the same uniform as her staff. The only difference was a small, brass clip on her breast that read “shift manager.” “Sit down, Menagerie. Welcome to the Palanquin.”

I did the only thing I could. I pulled up a stool and pretended to browse their bar menu. I pulled the lower faceplate off my helmet so I could chew and set it on the counter. “Hello, M-manager,” I stumbled. I really wasn’t good at this “pretend we don’t know each other” crap. “Can I grab a warm pretzel?”

“Grain mustard or cheese?”

“Mustard, please.”

“And can I get you a drink?”

“Ah… Milk? That’s a suitably PG drink, right?”

She shrugged dismissively. “That seems about right. Has Dante outside told you the rules?”

“No powers. Sorry about that. It won’t happen again.”

“No powers. Between you and me? I hear the owner’s in good with Faultline. Neutrality’s important to her, you know?” She made a show of leaning over and spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. “Miss Fitts pays pretty well. I like my job. Please don’t ruin it for me.”

It was all performative; I realized that now. Her civilian identity was all but an open secret and she was using that fact to send a message. “Melanie Fitts” was making sure everyone knew that I wasn’t with “Faultline.” The hero had no business here. He was just sticking around for a drink and some snacks.

I took the lesson to heart. This kind of subterfuge didn’t come naturally to me, I left it to Titania and her fairy wiles, but I understood. Her sentiment was easier to empathize with when I considered that this club was for her what the Egg House was for me. Ally or not, friend or not, I’d be pretty pissed if some random cape just strolled into the orphanage like this.

I gulped guiltily as the pretzel arrived.

“Have a few more on the house,” Melanie said with a professional, customer service smile.

“Thank you,” I replied woodenly. I did my best to apologize with body language, but I didn’t think it was working.

To her credit, the pretzels were delightfully warm. They’d been boiled before going into the oven, making for a chewy texture that went wonderfully with the grainy mustard.

“So, what brings you here, Menagerie?” Melanie asked pointedly.

“I really liked the shake I had last time so I wanted to see if the other menu items were just as good,” I said with a smile.

“Oh? How are the pretzels? We make them in-house.”

“Very chewy. The crust has a nice crunch. Compliments to the chef.”

Melanie smiled softly, which I took to mean at least partial forgiveness. “Good. I’m glad you liked it. I heard about your fortune-telling business.”

“Ahaha, that was more of a spur of the moment thing, you know?”

“So I saw. How accurate are your predictions?”

“Pretty accurate, but it depends. Some things are harder to read than others.”

Melanie, who I wasn’t supposed to recognize as Melanie, or at all, shot the breeze with me for a few minutes before she excused herself to serve someone else. Then, just as she returned with a second glass of milk for me, the entire club began to shake.

A dozen forms ran through my mind. My first priority would be keeping the civilians safe. To maintain enough force fields… metagross should be perfect for the job.

Just then, the walls shook and collapsed in on themselves, revealing a spacious hall filled with elaborate arches. The walls were lined with ornate paintings, so detailed that I could spend hours looking at them.

Melanie took one look at the surroundings. Her palm met her face with an audible slap. “Damnit, Elle,” she cursed under her breath.

That made me relax again. Elle, Labyrinth, was a sweet girl. I knew her mind, quite literally inside out; she wouldn’t hurt anyone. I watched with amusement as the club’s interior was stripped away, revealing the inside of some architectural marvel that I wasn’t educated enough to fully appreciate.

Sure enough, the petite, blonde cape strolled down the stairs. She wore a simple, green domino mask embossed with maze-like designs. Her emerald robes flowed behind her as she basked in the limelight with a cheery grin. She’d also cut her hair into a shoulder-length bob that perfectly framed her green eyes.

Gone was the nervous, withdrawn girl I’d met last week. There was not a shred of fear in her eyes nor the slightest hesitation in her actions. The girl who spent much of her time locked away in her own nightmares, the girl who ran and ran into otherworldly vistas, was nowhere to be found. The sheer energy alone made me wonder if this was the same person. Clearly, gardevoir were truly the best mind-healers.

I laughed. I was delighted for her. She deserved this freedom, not just fleeting moments of peace tainted by anxiety.

She flung her arms wide and shouted, “Hello, Palanquin! Isn’t it boring dancing on the same old dance floor? February’s Valentine’s, right? So let’s change things up a bit!” She clapped her hands and the DJ’s booth rose into the air on ornate pillars. “How’s the Taj Mahal sound? Yeah, this is what it’s like inside. So dance! DJ, let’s make this wild!”

The youngest and most powerful member of Faultline’s Crew walked through the crowd towards the bar. People parted for her like Moses parted the sea. Though her origins weren’t common knowledge, there was more than one person who whispered, “shaker-twelve.”

It was a leak, an all but confirmed rumor about the strength of Faultline’s youngest teammate. I placed even odds on Faultline herself being the source of that, a deterrent so people would think twice about fucking with them. The whispers spread like wildfire and if there was any doubt before tonight, there weren’t any now.

Labyrinth skipped towards the bar with a jolly smirk. She wore all the confidence of a space manipulator and I couldn’t help but think it suited her.

Melanie groaned into her palm, which probably meant this wasn’t planned. “Miss Labyrinth, did you get permission for this?”

For her part, the platinum-blonde nodded with an eager grin. “Uh-huh! Don’t worry, I’ll clean everything up when we’re done. I’m thinking I do this a few times a week. Spice things up, you know?”

“I can’t believe this…”

“Oh, come on. It’s fun! Besides, Faultline said she’d think about it.”

“Yes, ‘think about it’ was the phrase she used.”

Labyrinth smiled smugly up at her big sister figure and hauled herself onto a stool next to me. She stuck out a hand for me to shake. “Hey, Menagerie, right? Heard you give dino rides. Can I have one? Pretty please?”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Here Mel and I were, trying our best to act like we didn’t know each other, only for Elle to crash through the interaction like a tauros in a china shop. Even so, she did give me a wonderful reason to associate with her.

“I’m sorry, Labyrinth,” I said, careful to use her cape name, “there are no dinosaurs on the menu at the moment. I do have a pink unicorn though.”

“Ooh! A rapidash?”

I found it humorous that for her, a rapidash was a psychic and fairy type. Because she saw the Galarian variant first, it naturally occupied the position of the “main species.” If I showed her the far more common Kantoan form, she’d likely call that one the subspecies instead.

“Yes, a Galarian subspecies.”

“Is that the one you let Panacea ride? Okay! I want to ride the unicorn!”

“That can be arranged. Although, I believe the manager made me promise not to use my power indoors.”

“You believe right,” Melanie said with a happy nod. At this point, it wasn’t really about me using my power, Elle had thoroughly broken that rule, as it was respecting Melanie’s space as the owner of the club and Elle’s boss. “Her power lasts several hours with or without her presence so you have plenty of time.”

I nodded. She would know that; she was the type to test her subordinates’ abilities thoroughly. More, she probably had a few examples from their missions when Elle built a maze to cover their escape.

“Yes!” Elle let out an excited cheer. She grabbed me by my arm and tugged me from my stool. “Come on! Come on!”

“Alright, slow down,” I said with a chuckle. She was like an excited growlithe. “There’s no rush.”

“Lies! You’re cutting into my horsey time.”

Elle was quite eye-catching. Her voluminous robes were reminiscent of a fantasy wizard and stood at odds with the revealing dress code of most of the club, but that just made her shock of platinum-white hair stand out more, not less. The way the spotlight seemed to follow her made her hair shine as if it were on fire.

She led me by the hand, dragging me like an insistent child. It made me wonder how often she got to see the world outside. Before, in the asylum, not at all, but it couldn’t have been often even living with Melanie.

In that case, I’d just have to give her the best memory I could. There would be more precious memories, hundreds, to drown out the past. She was so vibrant and full of life; she deserved this.

Elle led me through the front. With every step, the decor of the club changed. The hall that had been simple brick and plaster turned into fine marble. Entire college semesters could be taught on any one of those inscriptions that littered the walls. Clearly, the time for hiding was over. She was intent on letting the whole city know: The Palanquin was home to Labyrinth.

I almost laughed at the way the bouncer leaned away from her. The man had no trouble giving me shit, but the moment a pint-sized blonde in a wizard’s robes pranced by, he was as meek as a newly hatched litten. Then again, shaker-twelve, and a self-professed criminal at that.

Seeing how she wanted to make a statement of it, I figured I’d oblige. I hopped forward into the middle of the street, windmilled my arms, and punched the air with a triumphant shout. “Shift, Galarian rapidash!”

Once again, the will of a swordmaster filled me, to the point that I almost felt bad for this. The Galarian rapidash was a pokemon with a knightly personality. Despite appearances, it had a competitive nature and fancied itself a swordsman more than a mount. There were few pokemon that could rival its Psycho Cut.

I’d turned into this form many times now, and each time for the sole purpose of giving people pony rides. First was Amy, then a dozen or so times playing with children at Dinah’s middle school, and now Elle.

Alas, as hilarious as it’d be to trample some idiot as a literal fantasy unicorn, today was not that day.

I cantered over to Elle. At barely five-two or so, the girl didn’t even reach my shoulders. “Umm… Could someone give her a lift?”

Elle giggled and shook her head. She stomped her foot on the ground and the earth answered, rising with her until she could comfortably sling a leg over my back. “I don’t need help, silly. Now giddyup!”

I laughed and decided to play a prank on Elle, just a bit. I began a quick trot down the hill, quickly gaining speed. “Alright, Labyrinth, hang tight.”

“Woah! You’re fast!” she squealed, bunching her hands into my mane. I felt her thighs clench around my back and sped up a bit more. Any other words died in her throat, replaced by exhilarated laughter.

As I ran, I built up more and more psychic power, stored in my fetlocks. I used much of it to project a psychic hold around Elle, keeping her pressed protectively at my back.

The hill leveled out and we were soon nearing the Boardwalk. I could see the ocean quickly approaching.

“Menagerie? We’re running out of road!”

“What? I can’t hear you!” I hollered back.

“No road!”

“What?”

“Oh, never mind!” Elle flexed her power just as I galloped onto the sea. Ahead of me, the ocean parted as stone rose up to meet my feet.

Then, to her surprise, I leapt into the air, ignoring the path altogether. Galarian rapidash weren’t the strongest telekinetics in the world, but lifting myself? Creating temporary constructs of compact air for my hooves? That wasn’t beyond me.

I doubted I’d be able to do this at max speed, not coordinated enough to run and slip platforms beneath me at the same time, but I didn’t need to.

Right now, I just wanted to give my new friend the time of her life.

“EEEeeeyyeeaaAAHHH!!!” Elle shrieked, first in surprise and fear, then in delirious joy when she realized I’d never drop her. “Whoohoo! Faster!”

“As you wish.”

I poured on the speed, as fast as I was able. My Pastel Veil trailed behind me, leaving behind a pink tail of glittering fairy energy for all to see.

As we flew, I began to humm. “I can show you the world~”

“Really, Blake?” Elle chortled. “Are you quoting Aladdin at me?”

“Shining, shimmering, splendid~”

“Oh, come on.”

“Tell me, princess, now when did you last let your heart decide~”

“I’m a princess? I can live with that.”

“I can open your eyes~”

Elle patted my mane affectionately. “You already did.”

“Take you wonder by wonder. Over, sideways and under~”

“That’s my job, you know. Is there anywhere you’ve ever wanted to visit? I can bring it to you. The Pyramids of Giza. The Burj Khalifa. The Hagia Sophia. Ever wanted to see any of them?”

“On a magic carpet ride~” I continued to sing.

“Okay, I can’t do that. To be fair, you’re not a carpet either,” she pouted.

“Mnnhmmhmmm~”

“You forgot the words, didn’t you?”

“Hehe, yeah,” I chuckled ruefully. “The kids at the orphanage loved Aladdin. Hell, my sister, Leah, used to dress as Princess Jasmine every year for Halloween.”

“She doesn’t anymore?”

“She stopped when some creep grabbed her butt.”

“Oh… Brockton Bay sucks, huh.”

“Yeah, that kinda ruined the mood, didn’t it? Sorry, Elle.”

“No! It’s okay. It’s… It’s just… It’s so pretty up here,” she said wistfully. I slowed to a light trot so she could better see the city below. “It’s like, here, no one can see anything wrong with the city.”

“No, I suppose not. Things get worse the closer to the ground you are.”

“But that’s why you’re a hero, right, Blake? So you can make things better? So you can help people like you helped me?”

I laughed. “I think you have an overinflated opinion of me, Elle. I guess that’s part of it, but I really just want to make people happy.”

“You… You make me happy.”

“You make me happy too.”

X

Elle and I spent an hour hopping around the sky. When my timer ran out, I alighted on a nearby rooftop for a minute. A quick show of her power to rearrange her surroundings convinced any onlookers that approaching the shaker-twelve against her wishes would be a bad idea.

Then, when she’d had her fill of pony rides, she directed me back towards the club. Instead of heading to the front of the club, she had me dive straight down towards the dome that now graced the Palanquin. It apparently belonged to the Taj Mahal and she’d just popped it away from some alternate earth as easily as I might pluck a berry from a bush.

“You’re an honorary pokemon, Elle,” I said as we collided with the dome and… slipped through like it didn’t exist.

“What?”

“You’re a pokemon. You’re this tiny, adorable slip of a girl who’s so hilariously powerful that it defies all logic.”

“I am?”

“You’re the closest thing to a true Legend I’ve seen in this world outside the endbringers and Scion. So yes. Adorable? Deceptively strong? Believes in the power of friendship? Yup. You’re a pokemon.”

She giggled as we trotted through the top floor of the club, her family’s living quarters. She gently tugged on my mane when I reached her room. Her door had been redecorated with lovely, maze-like patterns that made her name card pop. “Well, if the expert says so.”

“I do, you overpowered gremlin.”

She skipped down, and promptly hopped around, holding her crotch. “Ow. Ow. Ow.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sore.”

“Really?”

“Hey, you try riding without a saddle, jerk!”

“Hahahaha!” I couldn’t help it. I laughed. It was too much of a contrast. Here I was appreciating how strong my new friend was, only for her to immediately do the peepee dance because she had the riding sores.

“Blake! Stop teasing me!”

X

A few hours later, I found myself seated across from Faultline in her private lounge. She didn’t bother with a mask, but had opted to lose her manager’s uniform in exchange for something a bit more business formal. In her hand was a tumbler of whiskey, watered down with ice, that she occasionally sipped at.

That, more than anything, told me she wasn’t as uptight as she was letting on. I doubted she’d allow for even the slightest chance of inebriation if she saw me as a business partner to negotiate with.

“You didn’t have to dress up for me, you know,” I said. I had my helmet fully off and was sipping away at a coke.

“No, but I did anyway. You’re a friend, Menagerie, but business is business,” she replied, making sure to use my cape name. She slid over a folder. “Take a look. This is everything necessary for your friend to have a new life.”

I began to flip through the thick file. The very first page was a birth certificate for Emily Maria Souza,” an eighteen year old woman born in San Diego, California. The next page was a fabricated news article which listed her parents, Maria and Carlos Souza, as deceased in a Leviathan attack. With the chaos of an endbringer battle, it wasn’t uncommon to have inconsistent survival records.

That wasn’t all. There were report cards, standardized test scores, and even a falsified hospital report for a broken arm at the age of fourteen from pole vaulting. And of course, a driver’s license to make her life more convenient. The amount of detail inside was truly astounding. Had I not known better, I would have thought the Emily on the pages before me was a completely different person from the Emily I knew.

“This is amazing,” I told her. “Thank you, truly.”

Melanie shook her head with a rueful chuckle. “I owe you a lot, Menagerie. This? Other people could do this. It’s all just about knowing the right contacts. What you did for Elle? No one but you could have done that.”

“She’s my friend. Helping people shouldn’t be some great hardship.”

“You really are a hero, aren’t you?”

“Being a decent person shouldn’t make me a hero,” I told her. “Isn’t helping people common sense?”

“The world would be a better place if more people thought like you,” she said with a sip of whiskey. “The hacker I hired is reliable and has done some work for me in the past. You can rest assured that should anyone bother looking, the electronic records will line up with what’s on the page.”

“Thank you again.”

“Likewise. Was there anything else you wanted tonight?”

“World peace, but I’ll settle for the papers. Thanks though, really.”

“World peace is the kind of thing only a delusional child could dream of,” she said with a smirk. “And it’d put me out of business.”

I let out a snort of laughter. “You can joke?”

“I’ll have you know, I have an excellent sense of humor,” she sniffed.

“If you say so… Oh! Hey, before I forget, are you aware that I’m a precog?”

“Of course you are,” she grumbled. “What powers don’t you have?”

“Umm… Currently?” I thought about everything a psychic pokemon could do. “I probably fill every PRT power category up to at least level seven? Eight?”

“Fine. Let’s hear your fortune.”

“Actually, Future Sight revolves around you. I basically use the person in front of me to create a psychic trail to their future selves. I then use that tether to ask them questions about what might happen.”

She looked intrigued at the idea. I guessed talking to her future self sounded interesting. Did that make her a narcissist? “Really? How accurate are those?”

I shrugged. “I can be wrong. I can take the self-fulfilling prophecy thing in the other direction and tip things off the rails. But for the most part? I haven’t been wrong yet.”

“I see. How far into the future are we seeing?”

“Only a few months. That was how I got ahead of the Coil fiasco.”

“Coil fiasco?”

“Ah, yeah, I used future knowledge to convince Dragon to help shut off his deadman’s switch, a bomb that would have collapsed several city blocks.”

“Useful. Alright, I’ll let you use me to make a psychic link, but I want you to ask future-me something. And you must promise to repeat her answer to me word for word.”

“Sure, why not?”

“Good. Ask her about the origin of Case-53s and what I need to do to find the truth.”

I should have known that would be her question. Elle’s mind had been a confusing mess at times, but one thing that shone through consistently was Melanie’s love for her found family. She cared, in a way that went far beyond that of a boss and her employees. It was why they followed her, why they didn’t mind being called villains, so long as they had each other.

I felt my respect for her skyrocket. “I can do that.”

“Good. So, impress me.”

“Easy enough. Shift, espeon!”

I felt myself shrink, turning into one of the most beloved pokemon in the world. Even among the vaunted “eeveelutions,” espeon occupied a near uncontested position of prestige. Not only were they absolutely gorgeous, with soft fur like velvet, they were also potent psychics that excelled at both the material and mental disciplines.

Even better, unlike their umbreon cousins, they weren’t poisonous to the touch.

I stretched like a cat and luxuriated in the attention. Then, slinking back onto my haunches, I floated into the air and booped Faultline’s nose with my paw. “Yo, how’s it going?”

“You’re perfect,” she said with a wide grin. She immediately took me in hand and began to rub my ears.

Melanie was a cat person. Good to know.

“You mean purrfect, right?”

“Shush. Don’t ruin this.”

“Aright, fine. I’m feline pretty cozy anyway. You’re good at this.”

“I used to have a cat.”

“Really?”

“Yes. His name was Mittens.”

“What happened to him?”

“He died of old age and cancer.”

“Oh… Sorry…”

“It’s fine. Now, your Future Sight?”

I blinked. The rhythmic flow of Melanie’s fingers on my ears had lulled me into a near hypnotic trance. I hadn’t forgotten, but it had seemed so insignificant compared to the scritches I was being lavished with.

Truly, a pokemon’s mentality was a dangerous thing.

“Sorry,” I said, “I’ll get on that.”

I focused outward. From her fingers, to her breath, to the way her ponytail curled over her left shoulder, I studied Melanie Fitts. Then, when I had a psychic imprint, my eyes glowed with power as I looked beyond.

I felt the tether latch on. ‘Hello? Melanie?’

‘Hmm? Who’s in my-Oh, it’s you, Blake. When are you calling from?’

‘Early February 2011. You?’

‘Mid-May. Let me guess, younger-me wants to know if I ever figure out where the Case-53s come from?’

‘Yes, but I had a few more questions as well.’

‘Okay. Tell her to stop.’

‘What?’

‘She probably wants you to give her my answer verbatim. This is it: Stop. Don’t dig into their origins. You are not ready.’

I frowned. That was incredibly disheartening to hear. ‘Why? Why should she stop?’

‘How many Legends do you have?’

‘Just the one.’

‘Victini?’ she asked. I must have told her about the little gal.

‘Yeah. That’s good enough, right?’

‘No,’ she said flatly. I could feel the dread that came through the bond. Just what was such a big deal? What could scare her like this? ‘You can’t protect them, not from them.’

‘I don’t understand. If you know Victini’s name, you know how strong I am.’

‘And you can’t be everywhere. You’re the strongest cape in the world, but even you can’t protect everyone all the time. Please, Blake, stop digging.’

I sighed. I clearly wasn’t going to get much else from her. ‘Alright. I had a few more questions. What are the Empire and ABB up to?’

That got me a pulse of amusement. ‘In my time? Nothing. You wiped them both out with the help of a few independents, made the PRT look real stupid. You charged into every E88 safehouse and arrested them all in one afternoon. You then teleported them all to New York so they’d be Legend’s problem.’

‘That… That doesn’t sound like me though? I’m not really the type to do that without a good reason. Were they kidnapping kids?’

‘No, they didn’t pull a Coil. They did break the prison convoy that held Kaiser though. After that, the ABB recruited someone called Bakuda, a bomb tinker. A massive gang war happened and I guess you finally got sick of taking them piecemeal.’

‘Oh… Yeah, that sounds plausible. So what about that bomb tinker you mentioned?’

‘I don’t know her name, not really my business, but she was the “Cornell Bomber,” a student who triggered there. Look for that. She’s real bad news, even put bombs in people’s brains. I had to break my neutrality and get involved; Elle would have rebelled if I didn’t help.’

‘Huh. Thanks, but don’t tinkers need time? A bomb tinker sounds like someone who’d eat through her own materials quickly. She’s literally blowing up her own materials, right?’

‘You’d think so, but she and Oni Lee have excellent synergy. He can create copies of anything he teleports with, including esoteric bombs that have different effects. I’ve seen regular incendiaries, bombs that transmute things to glass, bombs that release pulses of pain, and even a time-stop grenade. It’s like all of your powers, but in bomb form. Don’t underestimate her.’

‘Got it. When will she arrive?’

‘No idea. She was quiet for a long time before acting, which tells me she’s got some self-discipline. Or Lung’s got her on a leash. Be careful.’

‘I will,’ I promised her. I then remembered. ‘What about Heartbreaker’s kids? The last time I used Future Sight, some of them show up and cause a lot of trouble.’

‘They do. Or did. One of them could induce terror in people. Not like Glory Girl’s aura, real, potentially heart-stopping terror,’ she said bitterly. There was an incredible amount of venom in her voice for someone who took pride in keeping things professional. ‘He got into the club and tried to convince me to help him and his brother. He used his power on Elle and it made her relapse. Everything you did for her, undone because that fucker dug up old traumas.’

‘What happened?’

‘She killed him. It’s the first time Elle killed someone. She lashed out and… and you’re still working on building her back up again.’

‘Oh… Oh shit.’

‘Yeah. I had to have Newter drug Elle. Then we left town for a week before you called us to let us know the other one was dealt with. I do know that they’re a pair and they’re looking for their siblings.’

‘Siblings?’

‘Yeah, they came looking because apparently a brother and sister left Montreal. The other one can see through the eyes of those they touch. They’re not shy about murder, rape, and torture.’

‘Shit. When was this?’

‘Early-mid February. If you haven’t noticed anything, keep an eye out anyway because they’ll probably show within the week.’

‘Fuck, alright, thanks, Melanie.’

I then felt the connection snap harshly. I startled back, as if my soul had snapped into place like a rubber band.

When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t espeon anymore. I scrambled off Melanie’s lap and took a second to reorient myself. It wasn’t hard to figure out what happened: It was midnight. Future Sight cut itself off because I was no longer a psychic type.

“Well?” Melanie asked. “What did future-me have to say about Case-53s?”

I sighed. “You’re not going to like this.”

“Tell me. Word for word.”

“Alright. She said, ‘Stop. Don’t dig into their origins. You are not ready.’”

“That… That can’t be right.”

“It is. She knew information only I would know, told me about a gang war, the recruitment of someone called Bakuda the Cornell Bomber, and even the arrival of a pair of Heartbreaker’s kids. And she also told me that even with all my power, even if I helped you, it wouldn’t be enough.”

“I… Thank you, Menagerie,” she said, tone distant now. “I have a lot to think about. And I think you do too.”

“Yeah…”

Author’s Note

Honestly? I was surprised by chat’s decision to not fuck over Lisa. It was kinda weird because usually, they’re huge assholes even when the MC is supposed to be a hero.

Did you know Elle can make her walls selectively permeable?