Borne of Caution (Pokemon Isekai)

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Barely hiding his boredom, Octillery quashes the urge to twiddle his tentacles and looks at his 'teammates'.

He, Ninetales, Grovyle, and the newcomer, Corvisquire, all stand in a loose circle in the moonlight streaming in from the hotel room window. In the beds just a few yards away, both Lee and Brendan are deep in slumber.

Since Corvisquire has joined the merry band of misfits just a few hours ago, tensions have been high, only just now beginning to loosen after Ninetales quietly called for a meeting. She and Grovyle have brought the raven up to speed on what he's missed since his abandonment weeks ago, while Octillery has been content to stand back and observe.

As interesting an experience as being a 'trained' pokemon is, Octillery's team is proving tiresome, and the returning Corvisquire is no exception. The raven tersely introduced himself to Octillery, then explained the reason for his absence to the team, much to Grovyle and Ninetales' poorly hidden sympathy. Octillery himself doesn't understand the issue. Death happens. Why be so upset over it? Especially when one lacks control of the situation? Octillery wanted to shake his head. Had Corvisquire saved his old trainer, it sounds as if the boy would have been on borrowed time anyway. Better he have died so that time and resources aren't wasted on him. Octillery did not voice his complaint aloud, knowing it would earn him no favor.

His eyes turn to Ninetales and Grovyle, then over to the bed where Lee and Young Shinx lay asleep. The man and cub are utterly dead to the world, convinced of their security.

Grovyle might be his favorite by a wide margin. The Grass-type knows the value of not opening one's mouth when there is nothing of import to say, and when coaxed, is surprisingly shrewd when it comes to games of the mind. Octillery has, dare he say, enjoyed being around this one? Novel, but like all novelties, Octillery expects it to wear off.

Young Shinx, he cannot say, but considering her origins and favored place in the lap of Lee, Octillery expects her to grow into something placid and spoiled. She will persist on her trainer's good graces, regardless of her own ability. How distasteful.

And Ninetales…

Octillery dares not let his eyes linger on the fox, lest he attract one of her seemingly random fits of ire.

Ninetales is dangerous. The unnatural joining of minds has addled her in Octillery's eyes. The brain is but meat between the ears, and meat can suffocate. It can crush. It can die. Meat has limits. To ask a flesh bound pokemon to comprehend the true thoughts of a being as illogical and unsound as a human? That is a task best left unfulfilled, yet Ninetales does so daily and suffers for it.

The fox pokemon is far from the strongest pokemon Octillery has ever seen. She is not even close, as through the years, Octillery has witnessed actual monsters in action, the sort bested only by Legends. The Valley of Steel played home to some such pokemon, ones who could reshape the landscape in their fury. Images flash before his eyes, moments of peril where only his mind and skill carried him to safety. There was no fighting back in those cases, only fleeing and plotting for a better method of engagement.

No, Ninetales is not the strongest, but her unpredictability might make her the most dangerous he's ever met. She is ill, so he will watch her carefully.

His own distaste of them aside, Octillery's teammates present an intriguing puzzle. What, exactly, drives their loyalty to Lee Henson? Octillery knows his own loyalty and theirs are not the same. Lee Henson provides him food, security, and the chance to use his hard-earned skills and honed mind, but at the cost of obeying one less intelligent than he. If not for Lee being a bit sharper than the average human with a few interesting insights, Octillery would have more heavily considered declining the membership extended to him.

Most pokemon—keyword being most—grow their skills and might at an accelerated pace under a human's tutelage. A human provides security and resources to hone one's talents in a comfortable manner, one free of the vicious cycle of the wild. However, the pokemon around Octillery are not most pokemon. Be it chance or a concerted effort from Lee, the octopus pokemon's peers are a cut above the rest.

What defines them? What drives them? Why bend the knee?

Corvisquire carries himself with a horrid savagery held down fast by chains of civility, and it's plain after only a few hours of acquaintance. Under the flowery words and beak raised in superiority is a beast, one that would rend a foe down to the bone simply for the pleasure of bloodshed. A beast of decadence is he, who would slay another solely for entertainment. And yet, he bows his head low to Lee Henson, returning to his bonds freely.

Grovyle is one who would thrive regardless of any circumstances, and one Octillery would be wary of in the wild. His skill is matched only by his drive to rise to new heights, to shed any and all weakness. His prowess is the sort wielded by alphas who sire a dynasty, filled with offspring who spread their own will with the power gifted by their sire. Every cut is clean, every movement is sure, and every iota of his being is dedicated not to himself, but to a human.

Ninetales… Octillery does not even know where to begin with such a wreck of a pokemon. In no world can the mind of a human overwhelm a pokemon, so what Lee has done to have such a dogmatic defender is beyond Octillery. They treat one another in the same manner mammals might their mate in the height of spring, yet they refuse to copulate. It's such a contradictory mess that Octillery can only chalk it up to some form of cognitive damage.

Again, he wonders. What defines them? What drives them? Why bend the knee?

If there are truly defining moments in life, then they must be the moments of peril, Octillery thinks. When one faces their own mortality, their eyes are forced open, be they closed in ignorance or arrogance. He would know, as his earliest memories were of bloodshed. He remembers these moments vividly.

As a common Remoraid years ago, just two weeks hatched, he and his school of fellow fish fled up the mouth of a river from the open ocean, running from a Tentacruel and his cohort of Tentacool. Primal terror compelled them up the waterway and against the current, as many were already lost to the stinging tentacles of their predators. The ones who tried to fight fell the fastest.

This proved to be a blunder. The shallow water forced the Tentacool to abate in their pursuit, but the school swam into the territory of a river Feraligatr and her progeny.

A score of crocodilian pokemon dove into the water at their mother's instruction, surrounding the school. Gnashing jaws nearly claimed Octillery's life there, but in his peril, his mind whirled, his heart hammered, and the drive to survive took hold. The panic and terror, both within himself and reflected in the eyes of the school, laid a numbing cloak over him that would never again rise, and with the numbness came beautiful clarity. At that moment, he recalled how hard he must fight against the force of any water spewed from his maw. A plan neatly clicked into place amid that moment of lucidity.

Swimming to the surface, he aimed downward, and fired off a Water Gun, propelling him out of the churning water and onto land. He landed facing the river, treating him to the sight of the chaos within. His gills burned and stung, but he took another breath and fired Water Gun again. And again. And again. Until he heard no more splashing or snapping jaws.

To this day, he isn't sure how far his flight carried him, but when he flopped back into the river and took in deep breaths of blessedly clear water, he was alone. No other Remoraid had escaped, and a lone Remoraid is little more than a morsel to larger pokemon. The dire situation revealed itself to him in a flash of terrible realization, like a clap of thunder and blinding lightning.

He was weak.

With no fellows to cover him in the veil of the many and utterly lacking as an individual, an ignoble end awaited… He could not outrun or overpower his foes, but the numbness once more soothed him.

His mind had won that day, and he would need it forever more as his path became clear.

So began his life with naught but his own ingenuity to rely upon. He tested himself and the world around him, learning its rules and limits. He observed others, learned from them, then refined their skills to fit his needs. In the early days before his evolution, he learned to speak as others did, saying precisely what potential foes wished to hear so he might pass the few willing to talk unmolested. Acting became second nature in these cases, and the cases shrank in number as he grew. Before long, he wasn't forced to talk much, as speech and violence became tools of equal effectiveness. As time marched on, he began to crave more. More skills, more experiences, more foes, so he might learn from them, then triumph over them in defiance of nature, proving to himself his place in the world. His place as something better.

Looking back upon that fateful day, Octillery cannot lay blame upon the mother Feraligatr, or her hatchlings, or even the Tentacool who drove his school into the river. Nature is as fair an arbiter as they come. The weak die, and the strong consume the weak. It is a cycle that only the extraordinary like himself can escape. That day was the catalyst to making him into who he is today, after all, so how can he look upon it bitterly?

He who learns, survives.

He who plans, prospers.

He who dares, wins.

And Octillery was a winner. At least until migrating into the Valley of Steel via riverway.

The foes within the Valley tested all his skills and guile to the extreme, and Octillery found his wits pushed to their limits. Such power the natives cultivated, that his only option was to engage after lengthy periods spent analyzing weaknesses, often with sleepless nights pondering how he might make use of his repertoire against his prey. Some, he sought out and hunted in week-long engagements, requiring countless hours of planning, observation, and positioning. Others, he trapped or tricked to pass through their territory or lay claim to what they owned. Numerous Aggron, Rhydon, a single Onix, an alpha Skarmory, and even an arrogant Metang were all brought low by Octillery.

Magnezone put an end to that.

The alpha Magnezone of the Valley of Steel was persistent and aggressive beyond measure, chasing Octillery from pond to pond for the mere offense of being spied upon, forcing Octillery to use every trick and tactic he knew to escape harm. Magnezone cast down lightning bolts of such fury that they ionized parts of the ground, and Octillery knew one direct hit would be his end.

Growing weary after hours of unrelenting pursuit under the harsh Hoenn sun, Octillery took shelter in a pool that stung his lungs with the sharp taste of metal. The murky lagoon's dark bottom provided reprieve from Magnezone's bolts. Even with the contaminants aiding the conduction of Magnezone's electricity, the waters were deep enough to avoid anything worse than an unpleasant tingle.

For five days Magnezone remained overhead, waiting without moving an inch. Each day that passed, Octillery remained still in his shelter, even as hunger demanded he move, not at all realizing his thoughts were growing cloudy until it was too late. Then a discharge of lightning drew Magnezone away, but Octillery was too addled by the poison in his blood to realize it immediately. When his sluggish mind finally started turning again, he realized something was amiss, that he had made a mistake.

He should have died there, he realized. If Magnezone hadn't left, he would have perished. A rare spike of anger drove itself into him, that he would die in such a way. In his fury, he attacked anything that dared show its face, his vision growing dark in his mania.

Instead of finding death, he had awoken in a Pokemon Center, a span of days missing from his memory. He was informed that a trainer had rescued him. He wasn't quite sure what to think of that, as he had avoided humans fervently. He could never be better with a human holding him back.

He waited until the humans staffing the hospital deemed him well enough to have visitors, then he met his 'saviors.' Neither seemed like anything special, though he gave Ninetales due wariness. When he questioned Lee, Octillery was assured he was free to leave if he so wished.

Odd. Everything Octillery knew of trainers spoke to the contrary. Once a pokemon is captured, they forfeit their independence as punishment for their weakness.

Then he asked Ninetales her opinion on the trainer before him, not trusting a human on his word as any properly attentive pokemon should.

"Ninetales," he begins, feigning relaxation in the shallow pool the staff of the Pokemon Center provided him. "Why does a pokemon like you follow this one? Just what is this human to you?"

Ninetales smiles, her eyes taking on a warm glow. Merely laying eyes on such an expression stirs discomfort within Octillery; a rare feeling. Then she speaks, and a single word carries so much that he is left reeling.

"Everything."

One word rocked him, and the comforting numbness coating his body wavered. Never before had it done so. Is that thing Ninetales imbued within 'everything' perhaps what compels the fox herself, Grovyle, and Corvisquire so? What is it? How does he learn it so that it might be countered?

Octillery shakes his head, returning to the current conversation as Ninetales' monologue about the last few weeks comes to an end.

As the last words leave Ninetales' mouth, Octillery watches Corvisquire's beak turn downward in a frown. "I've missed much, it seems," the avian comments with a click of his tongue. "At the very least, it seems my timing is fortuitous, as additional talons make shorter work of brigands and criminals. Do we have a timeframe on when the raid will commence?"

"Within several days," Grovyle provides quietly, his arms crossed and the claws on one hand drumming upon the opposite limb. "The volcano lift has gone without a closure for almost a week now and, if the pattern holds, it will be soon."

"My, my… what a situation we've found ourselves in…" Octillery chimes, joining the conversation. His voice and mannerisms are an exemplary act, one of a pokemon who is assured and carefree, with just a touch of concern: precisely what the others might expect. He waves a tentacle. "Has Zinnia provided any intelligence on enemy numbers, teams, or positioning upon the volcano? Or perhaps an ultimate goal? Knowing would make the formulation of a battle plan much easier."

"Unfortunately not…" Ninetales' muzzle is pulled downward into a frown of her own, and behind her, her tail tips all flick in different directions. "We're still waiting on the final details from Zinnia."

Corvisquire scoffs, his feathers ruffling in agitation. "Wonderful…" After a moment of quiet, Corvisquire sighs and looks towards Ninetales and Grovyle. His expression twists, indecision obviously gnawing at him. Finally, he begins to speak, his words quiet and remorseful. "Ninetales, Grovyle?" He lowers his head. "I have yet to do so, so I would… ask for your forgiveness for my absence. It was not my intention to cause harm." His head lowers even further. "It never was."

The gecko and fox share a long look, and Octillery has to wonder if there is telepathy afoot. When they return their attention forward, Grovyle is the first to speak. "You're forgiven, Corvisquire." He flicks his twig between his teeth. "This time, and this time only, however."

Ninetales takes more time to answer. She stares at the floor, her jaw working as if to speak. She licks her lips, then raises her head. "No…" The damning word visibly stuns both Corvisquire and Grovyle. "I will not forgive you for what you did, not now and not ever."

The raven pokemon wilts, his shoulders falling. At the same time, Grovyle gives Ninetales a sidelong look, one of disbelief.

Octillery, thankfully, can simply remain aloof. He hasn't any stake here.

"...But I'm willing to forget, to leave everything in the past where it belongs." Ninetales turns her head away, her ruby eyes closed. "Don't rouse my memory of the subject."

Corvisquire snorts, his surly disposition returning. "Very well then, Queen Furball. Grace me not with the gift of your forgiveness, but the ignominy of your dismissal. This humble servant treasures it either way." He sniffs. "Shall I grovel at thine paws for the privilege of standing before the royal countenance as well? Perhaps pluck mine feathers and weave a decorative train for the graceful dress of tails trailing her Highness?" Regardless of his mocking words and the impudent, sarcastic sway of his head, unmistakable relief almost seeps from between Corvisquire's blue and black feathers.

Ninetales doesn't rise to the taunt, instead continuing on as if she didn't notice. "We four are a team, yet rarely do we come together as one. When time allows, I would like to meet like this more often outside of training and meals." Ninetales scans each of them with a severe eye. "I've been told that I'm… not the most approachable." She falters, her swaying tails halting for a split-second. "I wish to rectify that. As Lee's right hand, I should be watching for the well-being of everyone just as he does, and I would like to assist where I can in that capacity. This will be a learning experience for everyone, so I ask for criticism where applicable," she says, sending a pointed look at Corvisquire.

The raven's red eyes widen, then he sets his face into stern neutrality and nods, no signs of tomfoolery present.

"A sound plan. I'll be happy to do my part." Grovyle nods his head in agreement, a hint of a smile on his face.

All eyes turn to Octillery, and he has to suppress the urge to glare. 'Vexing.'

He does not want more idle talk. That's the last thing he wants. Once more he is tempted to go to his 'trainer' and request freedom, but he crushes the whiny urge. If he leaves now, he'll be abandoning his efforts to find out what that was when Ninetales described Lee back in the Pokemon Center. He wants to know what forced its way past the pleasant numbness, for it's a total unknown to him.

He who learns, survives, after all.

A cheery grin is forced onto Octillery's face, even if that only accounts for an upward crinkle of his eyelids. "Of course! I'd be glad to help," he agrees, not meaning a single word.

The experience here, being a 'trained' pokemon, is not wholly unpleasant, but his loyalty and theirs are not the same, and he wants to know why. He can tolerate more irritations for food, knowledge, and engagement in the meantime.

Ninetales smiles. It's a small thing. "Thank you all. I haven't anything else to say, so-"

The fox is interrupted by Lee's phone buzzing on the nightstand. In the bed just feet away, Lee grumbles and stirs, but doesn't awaken.

Rising to her paws, Ninetales silently steps over to the nightstand, snaking a tail out to lift the phone and peer at the screen. Using her nose, she taps in the unlock code. (1138, Octillery dimly recalls. Lee's thumb idly twitches in such a pattern sometimes.) After using her nose to swipe over to Lee's messages, her eyes widen. "It's from Zinnia," she says, voice hushed. "Magma will be moving in-"

---

"-two days. The final components are arriving for assembly, and I wish for you to be there with Tabitha to ensure nothing goes awry. Tabitha will be commanding the operation, but he can be… overzealous, and in need of a grounding element like yourself. A local lieutenant has a contingent of fodder ready as labor and foot soldiers as well."

In a secluded Lavaridge park free of any buildings to echo off of, Courtney listens to the words of Magma Leader Maxie over her phone. High above, Swellow flies in lazy circles, her sharp eyes and ears keeping watch for any interloper or eavesdropper.

"Understood, Leader Maxie," Courtney murmurs quietly. "I will be there."

"Good…" Courtney can almost hear Maxie's smile. "You are invaluable Courtney, remember that." Courtney's stomach grows warm at the words. "How goes your pet project?"

"I've made my offer to Brendan Birch," she replies. "I told him just enough to sway him, and to plant doubts about other loyalties. I plan on contacting him once the volcano operation commences, to offer him a chance to see what Magma is truly about," she says, conviction coloring each word, and her brow furrowing. "I know he will make the right choice. He and I are the same."

"They know who I am, Brendan," she lied to him, watching as his eyes grew wider and wider. "They… didn't tell you. I feel as though you should know who I am, and what Magma stands for."

Henson and Draconid haven't found her out yet. Swellow would have warned her if they had—but the lie will drive a wedge in the group. It needs to happen if Brendan is to make the right choice.

Brendan sat there, stunned into silence. Lying to him… felt bad, invoking a painful twisting in her gut, but Courtney hardened her heart. It's all for a good cause. They are alike, she and Brendan, and he'll understand.

"And if he doesn't?" Maxie drawls, freezing Courtney in place and dragging her from her memory. "What will you do?"

"I…" She hesitates. "I don't-"

"What. Will. You. Do?" Maxies interrupts her, and this time each word is laced with a terrible danger that makes spots bloom in the edges of Courtney's vision.

A shiver runs down the woman's spine, and her eyes fall to her shoes. She dares not disobey the unspoken order. "I will do what is necessary… for Magma." She forces the words past her lips.

Maxie is silent for a handful of seconds. Then, "Pi-gamma-delta-delta-alpha."

"Seven, eight, seven, one, four, three, nine, eight, zero, five, one." The answer to the cipher falls from Courtney's lips in perfect order.

"That is all, Courtney." Maxie sighs. "Do not make me regret granting your leave for this project."

The line goes dead, and the phone in Courtney's hand reboots of its own accord. When the phone turns back on, there is no log of the call that took place a moment ago.

Courtney shudders, then looks up at her Swellow.

High above, the bird pokemon stares back down with hard eyes.

Difficult is the path of the righteous, it seems…

---

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Want to support me? See https://www.patreon.com/fuggmann on the place of patrons. I have goals on there that help my writing along and make it a richer experience for everyone. As thanks for donating, patrons get to see updates a few days early and suggest edits to the final draft before it goes live. If you want to keep up-to-date on releases, use discord code hive-of-degeneracy and opt in to the fic-updates role for a ping.

---

"Everyone ready?" Lee asks, looking between Brendan, Marshtomp, Zinnia, and Shelgon.

In his and Brendan's hotel room, Lee gathered everyone for the 'lift investigation' about to take place. Just as Zinnia's Magma lieutenant had said two days ago, the cable car leading up to Mt Chimney went out of order today so they could transport cargo up to the volcano in peace, which unfortunately means Lee had to cancel on Mable today. Lee called his lawyer, Amanda, earlier this morning, and the two rehearsed the lines of legalese Lee intends to use if the cable car station tries to stonewall their efforts. Amanda played the role of the most stubborn, law-savvy busybody around, and after an hour of rehearsal, Lee feels that he has an answer to everything short of "Come back with a warrant." As both Lee and Zinnia expected, Courtney is absent and all her belongings in the room she and Zinnia were sharing are gone.

'Barely got a peep out of her in the weeks she's been with us. So much for trying to learn Magma's secrets…' Lee frowns.

On a stranger note, Brendan hasn't asked where the Magma admin is…

A nervous thrill runs down Lee's spine as thoughts of the upcoming conflict buzz within his head. His efforts to repair his old phone and replay the pokemon games contained within for a refresher on the events to come ended up being fruitless, as the electrical engineer he emailed never replied. 'Damn it all. Between all of us, it shouldn't be that big of a problem, but still… Maybe it doesn't matter too much. Canon is already off the rails as it is, so there's no telling what's going to happen. Unless…''

'Shush, Beloved,' Ninetales silently soothes beside him. 'You needn't worry. We can handle this.' Her confidence only eases Lee's nerves somewhat, rather than acting as the reassuring force they usually are.

'I hope you're right…'

"Ready as can be, I guess…" Brendan is the first to reply. The boy tries to meet Lee's eyes, but can't quite do it.

Zinnia is much more confident, a bright grin pulling her lips upward as she answers. "Hell yeah. Let's get going!"

Noting Brendan's unenthusiastic answer for later, Lee turns and slowly leads everyone to the cable car station.

The team makes their way through Lavaridge, parting the usual crowd in the streets with little issue. Several times someone tries to stop them to speak to Lee or Brendan, but each time the person is politely rebuffed, and the walk continues without issue. Once at the cable car station, the 'closed' sign is ignored in favor of Lee knocking on the glass door.

Within the building, a young-ish man with curly hair behind the front counter looks up from his computer and blinks at them. Realization passes the employee's face, and his face pinches as if he bit into a lemon, or perhaps an Aspear berry. Still, he reluctantly rises and walks to the door, pushing it open just enough to talk.

"I'm sorry, sir…" The man behind the glass door murmurs, his eyes shifting around. "I'm afraid the lift is closed today due to unforeseen maintenance needs. Please come back another day."

Before the door can be closed on them, Lee sticks his foot in the door sill, preventing it from closing all the way and rattling the glass when the cable car employee tries to slam it shut.

"That's what we're here about, actually," Lee ignores the smarting of his toes and plasters a polite smile on his face. "I'm Lee Henson, and I'm visiting today as a Pokemon League officer, as I've noticed a pattern of lift closures that have a worrying connotation of negligence, so in the interest of public well-being, I'm here to see what the League can do to help with that. May I come in and talk to you? Are you the manager on duty?"

The man's grimace only deepens. He looks over his own shoulder at the empty lobby behind him, but what he's looking for, Lee can only guess. Returning his attention to Lee, the man then looks down at Ninetales, who stares back impassively. Brendan, Zinnia, Shelgon, and Marshtomp are also afforded looks. "Sure…" The employee begins reluctantly. "Please come in. My manager isn't in, but I can talk for a while."

Holding open the door, the employee lets the group of six inside before he tersely retakes his place behind the front desk. "So uh…" the employee gulps. "What can I help you with?"

"Just some questions for now, and we'll see where it goes from there." Lee clears his throat and focuses on the lines Amanda drilled into him. "Mister Green, is it?" Lee asks, spying the nameplate reading "William Green" on the desk. "I want to let you know that due to the potential public welfare issues the lift's repeated closures represent, my partner Ninetales here will be acting as a psychic lie detector during our conversation today," he says, stroking the fox's neck with a hand.

Green stares at Ninetales, barely able to hide his dread. Beside Lee, Zinnia snorts derisively as she watches.

"Ninetales will not be reading your mind or looking at your memories, she will just be passively scanning any brainwaves you emit. You can decline to answer any question, but cooperation will be appreciated." Lee leaves out how silence for certain questions opens up the muddy waters of 'probable cause'.

'He's already nervous,' Ninetales narrows her eyes and carefully watches Green's twitching face.

'Of course he's nervous. We barged in and said 'hey, we're value-brand cops loaded down with dangerous pokemon and we're going to grill you on the obvious criminal activity here.' That would make anyone jittery.' Lee combs his fingers through the fur on the back of Ninetales' neck. 'I just hope he was bullied into it rather than going along willingly. I'd be glad to argue against any charges dropped on him if that's the case.'

"Do you have any questions before we begin?" Lee smiles at the man running the lift.

Green licks his lips, looking between everyone again. From the corner of his eye, Lee can see Zinnia's knowing, borderline menacing grin, and Brendan's professionally blank face.

"If you get an answer you don't like…" Green begins slowly. "What happens to me?"

"It all depends on the context. I didn't come here looking to arrest anyone, and I would prefer to keep it that way," Lee nods. "Honesty will go a long way. Any other questions?"

Green shakes his head.

"Okay then," Lee smiles once more, doing his best to seem reassuring. He takes his notebook from his bag and flips to a blank page, his pen ready. "Let's get started."

Ninetales' eyes glow red, and Green lets out a sigh, his face going pale.

---

"...And that's everything I know…" Green looks away, hugging his arms. Shivers run up and down his body, making his curly hair bounce.

Lee looks down to Ninetales, who lets the theatric glow of her eyes fade. 'As far as I am able to tell, he provided no falsehoods,' she says to Lee. 'He genuinely believes his life would be in danger if he and his co-workers did not cooperate with Magma.'

'The manager of the place accepting bribes is probably going to land them all in court, though…' Lee clicks his tongue as he signs his notes. "Thank you, Mister Green. One more question; is the lift actually not working? As in, is it currently unsafe to use?"

The exhausted-looking man before them shakes his head. "No, sir. It's working."

"Can you take us up?" Lee closes his notebook and takes a moment to tuck it away in his backpack. "I'd like to see what exactly is going on."

Wordlessly, Green rises from his chair and walks to the rear of the room, where a large set of doors labeled CABLE CAR ACCESS in capital letters is. Pushing one door open, he beckons Lee, Zinnia, Brendan, and the pokemon along.

"C'mon everyone," Lee looks back to his friends and nods towards the doors.

---

Leaning against the railing of the cable car platform and watching the next car slowly making its way down Mt. Chimney to pick them up, Brendan crosses his arms and pretends to inspect the scenery. In reality, he's watching Lee and Zinnia from the corner of his eye as his spirit begins to sink.

The older trainers have been standing close to each other the whole time, and Brendan's watchful eye remains locked on Zinnia's face. It takes him only a minute to spy uncomfortable twitches and her expression shifting for no reason. Meanwhile, Lee remains straight-faced. Beside him, Ninetales also remains stoic.

Lee must be using Ninetales' telepathy to talk to Zinnia privately, leaving Brendan in the dark again.

Something in Brendan's chest hurts at the thought. He thought they were all friends…

They knew, Brendan… Courtney's phantom voice tickles his ear. They knew, and they didn't tell you. We don't do such things within Magma, for we all must stand together. Without unity, we are lost.

The pain in his chest stings just a little more.

Part of Brendan chides the rest for being upset. Lee is a worrywart to the bone with firm ideas on what children should and should not do, no matter how much it conflicts with the culture of being a trainer.

Zinnia, on the other hand, is from a reclusive tribe. Being open just isn't in her nature. In the months he's known her, clarity is something she struggles to provide anyone.

Another part of Brendan is still sore and resentful, though. For all his strides forward and proving he can keep pace with them, Lee and Zinnia still treat him like a dumb child, someone who isn't equal to them. Courtney isn't like that. She understands who he is, and the scale of his ambitions.

"We're alike in more ways than one, Brendan," she said as she finished her story, finished coming clean and being honest. Her soft-looking lips twitch, pulling upward into a smile as beautiful as it is small. "In more ways than you know, and that's why I need your help."

Just thinking of the magenta-haired woman and her gentle smile turns Brendan's stomach into warm mush. He gulps and wets his suddenly dry mouth with his tongue, looking away from the scenery and over to Marshtomp.

His blue, amphibious partner stares back with a nervous light in his beady eyes. Twiddling his large fingers, Marshtomp lets out a short, inquiring croak, and Brendan doesn't need to read a single bit of Marshtomp's body language to guess what the pokemon is asking.

"You'll side with me, won't you?" Courtney's phantom voice asks, each word as enticing as a sugary morsel.

"I'm… Still thinking on it, pal…" Brendan's voice is so quiet, he can't even hear his own words. He doesn't want to risk Shelgon, or Arceus forbid, Ninetales hearing him. "No matter what, we'll stay friends, right?"

Marshtomp grimaces, but nods his head without hesitation.

Without warning, there is a poke to the back of Brendan's head, one that isn't physical, and he feels everything in his veins turn to ice. He turns and looks over to the fox pokemon standing by Lee's side, and eyes like blood-coated gems stare back.

Ninetales wants to talk… With telepathy.

Brendan flashes back to just a few days ago, just hours before Lee's Corvisquire unexpectedly returned to the group.

---

Wakefulness comes to Brendan in just a few breaths, an unpleasant, formless dream of the events to come fading and leaving him disoriented. Sitting up in his bed, Brendan grumbles as he looks at the nightstand clock, which reads just a few minutes before noon. He lays back down, staring at the ceiling as his mind buzzes aimlessly. Courtney, Magma, Lee, Zinnia, The League, his thoughts flit from one thing to another, too restless to stay on a single topic for long. He'd turn and talk about it to whichever of his pokemon was playing night-guard and sleeping in his bed that night… but all of his pokemon are in their balls. They've been avoiding Lee and Zinnia's pokemon ever since he asked them to keep Courtney's secret, and oftentimes the privacy of a pokeball was the only haven away from the rest of the group.

Raising his head again, he takes in the room.

Lee and his bag are gone, and the curtains are pulled shut, likely a favor from Lee. It makes Brendan frown, though. He thought he was hiding his mood better. Apparently not if the older trainer knows Brendan is sleeping in so late. It looks like he's alone in-'

Fwip!

The sound of paper being overturned makes Brendan's eyes shoot over to Lee's bed, and Brendan realizes he's not alone.

On Lee's bed is Ninetales, splaying out in a relaxed pose as she reads a thick book laid out on the covers. She looks up from her reading and levels him with an even look.

"Oh, uh…" Brendan hesitates. "Good morning, Ninetales…"

The Fire-type dips her head in greeting, then returns to her book.

Silence fills the air, and Brendan fidgets before finally throwing the covers off. He hastily steps over to his backpack at the foot of his bed, takes some clothes from his bag, and quickly walks to the bathroom to get cleaned up and change out of his night clothes.

After showering, brushing his teeth, and changing his clothes, Brendan exits the steamy bathroom and sits on the edge of his bed, sighing. He checks his phone, and finds only a text message from Lee saying the man is going out training and that Ninetales is taking a vacation day. There's nothing from Courtney.

For a few more minutes he sits, wondering what he should do today. Just as he begins debating the merits of reaching out to Courtney first, he feels something touch him. It tickles the back of his head, so he pulls his hat up a little and scratches the spot only for the itch to remain.

There is a snort from Lee's bed, so he looks over to see Ninetales with a single eyebrow raised. In the back of his head, Brendan feels the phantom finger poke once, twice, three times. Then again, one, two, and three times. Before the third repetition, everything clicks into place.

Ninetales is reaching out to him with telepathy. What could she have to say? Why reach out to him? Should he let her in? Will she know something is afoot if he declines?

"Uh…" Brendan swallows heavily. "I don't know how to let you in."

Ninetales blinks, and the tickle in the back of Brendan's head is gone like nothing ever happened. For a second, the boy wonders if Ninetales decided against telepathy, then he hears it, and a shiver runs down his spine.

'Are you well, Brendan? You've been sullen for several days.'

Brendan stiffens and shivers. The voice of a woman with an unplaceable accent echoes from everywhere yet nowhere, from the corners of the room and the depths of his skull. The words he understands, but it's as if they lack all inflection, and he cannot hope to assign a meaning beyond literal to each one. In a place Brendan cannot see, there is a great non-human something close to a part of himself that he cannot name, so close that it's borderline perverse, coating him in the sensation of grime despite his having just had a shower. Within him, something primal shivers, wracked by the fear of being devoured by something he can't defend himself against. It takes a moment for his thoughts to clear and realize that the great thing is Ninetales.

Lee lives with this awful feeling every day?

"I'm fine," Brendan congratulates himself for keeping the warble out of his voice. "Nothing wrong, honest."

Ninetales' eyes narrow. 'You're certain? Everyone has noticed you've not been yourself lately, and Lee asked me to check upon you should you still be in the doldrums. If you don't wish to speak to me, then please speak to someone else.'

How much can she see? Can she tell he's not being truthful? "I'm sure I'm fine! I'll let you, or Lee, or Zinnia, or Courtney, or heck, anyone else know." Brendan smiles, but he knows it's going to look off.

Ninetales flicks an ear with a displeased huff. 'Very well, I will not push you. Both Lee and Zinnia have noticed, however. They will eventually want to know.'

Brendan just nods, and the room falls back to silence. For a moment, Brendan debates asking Ninetales what she would do if someone she liked were… on a path in life contrary to hers. Her kind are supposed to be instinctually wise or something, right? Then he stops. Even if he were to get her to swear she wouldn't say a thing, she could just lie to him and tell Lee anyway.

'Oh no,' his eyes widen. 'Can she hear my thoughts right now?' His stomach drops, and he turns to stare at Ninetales once more. "Hey, uh, Ninetales? No dig at your integrity intended or anything, but with telepathy, how much can you see? Or hear?" He asks before his nerves can get the best of him.

If the implication offends her, the fox keeps it off her face and out of her 'voice' like an expert. In fact, her narrowed eyes soften 'I can see nothing you do not wish to show me, Brendan,' She assures him. 'My mind is touching yours only enough for you to hear me. I would never dream of taking anything from you by force.'

'Is that because it would upset Lee, or because of your own morals? I think I know the answer.' Brendan wonders to himself.

The phantom thing that is Ninetales pulls away from his brain quickly, as if recoiling. Brendan goes still for a moment, wondering if Ninetales heard his final, parting thought.

---

Brendan blinks and returns to the present when he feels another phantasmal poke to the back of his brain. Meeting Ninetales' eyes, he gulps and nods his head.

The pressure is gone, and once more Ninetales' maddening everywhere-at-once voice can be heard. 'Brendan, you're jittering. Is something wrong?'

'I'm fine,' To himself, the young trainer wonders how Ninetales can tell what thoughts are meant for her. Once more, a single exchange leaves him feeling vulnerable in a way he can't put into words, and he hates the feeling. 'Lee suspects this is some kind of criminal negligence case, right? This is why we've stayed for so long in Lavaridge?'

'Indeed.' Ninetales then pauses. 'Brendan, Lee is about to explain in more detail. I wanted to speak with you briefly, just to inform you that what you're going to hear might be shocking. Please understand that Zinnia, and particularly Lee, did not withhold the information from you out of a sense of maliciousness. Lee looks at age before all else in matters where danger might arise.'

'I know he does…' Brendan crosses his arms. 'Maybe he shouldn't, though.'

Ninetales frowns, but withdraws her telepathic tendril, leaving Brendan blessedly alone in his head once more.

As the cable car slows down and turns the bend to the boarding platform, Lee turns and looks his way. The older trainer's face screws itself up into guilt. "Hey, Brendan? There's something myself and Zinnia need to let you in on, something pertaining to this little investigation and… to Courtney, as well."

Beside Lee, Zinnia shifts in obvious discomfort, but is stilled by Shelgon briefly touching his shell to her leg.

'Now they come clean, huh?' Brendan frowns, but banishes his darkening thoughts. "Okay, what's up?"

Zinnia takes the stage from Lee by clearing her throat. "Lemme frame this whole thing real quick. You're probably going to be upset that we've been keeping things from you, and that's fine. You can be pissed, we're expecting it." With a sigh, Zinnia hooks her thumbs in her belt loops. "Brendan, we've been tracking Magma for a while now, and we're heading right into the fire, here. We're expecting to encounter them on the volcano-" she nods her head backwards, towards Mt Chimney "-and Lee wants to give you the chance to back out. One, because of the danger, and two…" The Dragon Tamer sighs and looks around awkwardly. "Two, because Lee and I heavily suspect Courtney is some kind of official within Magma."

"We suspected her from the beginning, which is why we agreed to let her travel with us," Lee continues as Ninetales leans into his side. "I know this might come off as a shock, and we're sorry for not telling you. I know you and Courtney are friends." Lee hides his hands in his jacket pockets, but Brendan can still see him twiddling his fingers nervously. "We still haven't found a motive for her joining, but we figured we'd keep her close anyway in an effort to get her to spill her secrets and to force Magma to operate with one less officer." Lee steps forward and lays a hand on Brendan's shoulder. "Since she vanished this morning, I can only assume she's up there."

'She is,' Brendan's phone contains a single new text message for today, one from Courtney begging him to make the right choice on the volcano. Conflict boils within the boy's gut as the realization that the point of no return is upon him. He looks up at Lee, then to Zinnia.

Two serious faces stare back, faces that want only the best for him. The frustration of being looked at like a child still burns inside of him, though.

Licking his lips, he looks up at the distant, smoky peak of Mt Chimney. Up there, a woman who makes him feel special and wanted awaits. She wishes for him to be by her side as they reshape the entire world.

He can pick only one side. He knows neither Lee and Zinnia nor Courtney will bend to the other.

Taking a deep breath, Brendan gives Lee a hard stare, his brown eyes locking with Lee's blue.

"I want to go along."

---

The ride up the cable car to the top of the volcano is quiet, with the silence enforced by the building anticipation of the conflict to come. After Zinnia sent Swablu ahead to check for guards at the landing point, the only real noise is the creak of the cable overhead pulling the car along, and the tapping of Brendan's foot.

Tap tap tap!

Everyone's eyes are drawn to the window, where Swablu hovers just outside.

Grinning, Zinnia opens the window just long enough for Swablu to flutter in before rolling it shut again. "Any advance guards?"

Landing on Zinnia's outstretched arm, Swablu shakes her head with a trill.

"Heh," Zinnia raises Swablu's pokeball. "Magma sure is full of themselves not guarding the way in. Thanks, girl. Return!"

Swablu lets out a pleased tweet, then is drawn back into her pokeball for a rest.

As the stopping platform at the very top of the volcano comes into view, Brendan observes his friends once more, because… Because today might be the last time he sees them.

I'm… more than I say I am. I'm on a mission, and… I need your help.

I need your help.

The youngest Birch withholds a shaking sigh and tries to will his heart to be still. He glances over to Marshtomp. "You ready, pal?"

Marshtomp looks down at the steel floor of the car, saying nothing.

"I'm not, either…" Brendan murmurs.

Once the car comes to a stop at the station on the volcano, Lee takes a deep breath and once more takes the lead. "Alright, everyone. Best foot forward, and be ready to fight."

"Be ready? I'm already ready for a scrap, Dolittle." Zinnia smiles and pats Shelgon on his metallic shell. "You aren't?"

"Not really," Lee says, pushing the lift's squeaky door open. "I'd rather be relaxing in my own private lab somewhere."

Lee and Ninetales step out first, followed by Zinnia and Shelgon. Sharing one last troubled look with each other, Brendan and Marshtomp bring up the rear. Immediately, the boy's face wrinkles as his eyes and nose are assaulted by hot air smelling of burning plastic and sulfur.

The 'closed' station atop Mt Chimney is, as far as Brendan can see, abandoned. Off to the side and near the high fence that keeps visitors away from a deadly tumble are a number of wooden crates, some open. There are a few food wrappers on the ground and an overturned trash can by the door leading into the volcano visitor's center, along with a large pavilion where picnic tables sit in the shade.

'The rest of the volcano isn't accessible from here,' Brendan looks at the visitor center to the left. Behind them is the lift, and to the right is a high wall of rock with a painted mural of various fire pokemon upon it. The wall extends into the distance and wraps around to the left, encompassing the pavilion and meeting the visitor center's wall, forming an enclosed square. 'So we've only got one way in, and one way out…' He eyeballs the double glass doors off to the left.

Walking forward as a group, the three trainers and their pokemon approach the visitor's center, stopping when someone pushes the door open.

Stepping out of the building is a man whose face is mostly covered by his red hood. On his red shirt is Team Magma's stylized M logo, and on the belt holding his gray pants up is a single pokeball. At the man's side is a Purrloin, a small, cat-like pokemon covered in creme and purple fur.

"Who the hell is using the lift?" The Magma grunt grumbles. "I thought we go-!" The Magma underling and his Purrloin freeze like a pair of Deerling caught in headlights when they spot Brendan, Lee, Zinnia, and the cadre of pokemon with them. The man's hand shoots to his side, where a radio is strapped. "Purrloin! Fake Out!" He cries, pointing at the group with his free hand.

A command for Marshtomp is on Brendan's lips, but he hesitates even as his partner's eyes bore into him.

"Shelgon, Rollout!" Zinnia counters in his place.

Before the grunt's Purrloin can get into position to attack, Shelgon rolls into a ball and flies across the cement ground like a runaway boulder, kicking up chunks of cement as he goes.

Purrloin can only widen his eyes before Shelgon slams into him with crushing force. There are a few cringe-inducing cracks, and the dull thud of Purrloin's head rebounding off of Shelgon before the poor cat is thrown away like an abused toy. He flies through the air for a long second, then lands on the concrete in a boneless heap, bouncing once. Purrloin coughs through battered lungs and tries to stand, but falls to his stomach and wheezes helplessly as Shelgon unrolls and looms over him.

"Shit shit shit!", the Magma grunt pulls his radio free and goes to raise it to his lips, but before he can depress the transmit button, the radio glows violet, then is ripped from his hand with such force that the man cries out and trips forward.

The radio flies over to hover in front of Ninetales, whose eyes glow the same color as the corona encasing the device. With a growl, she crushes it in her telekinetic grip, throwing sparks and littering the ground with shards of black plastic.

"Please don't resist-" Lee begins as the Magma grunt scrambles back to his feet and tries to run. Tries, being the keyword, because the red-clad man only gets a few steps before Shelgon throws himself into the grunt's path, making the man gasp and fall to his rear. He turns back to stare at the group in undisguised fear.

"Or do resist and make this fun," Zinnia grins a manic grin, one that promises violence. "C'mon, get up and run. Try your luck!" She takes a step forward, her hand grasping a pokeball. "I wanna see how far you'll get!"

The spooked grunt crawls backward, only to run into a glaring Shelgon and flinch.

"Zinnia, please," Lee puts a hand on her shoulder and pulls the tanned woman back. Lee gives the grunt a smile, and after pushing the disgruntled Zinnia back a bit, he steps forward in her place. "Sir, in my capacity as a Hoenn Lab Trainer, you're being placed under arrest at this time for suspicion of involvement with gang activity. Everything you say and do can and will be held against you in a court of law, so you have the right to remain silent if you wish. If you cooperate with us, though, I promise you I'll do everything I can to secure leniency for you." Despite his kind words, Ninetales still adds an air of menace to Lee's words just by standing next to him with her narrow-eyed leer.

Brendan has to wonder if Lee and Zinnia rehearsed this Good Cop, Bad Cop, bit.

The grunt doesn't resist when Lee steps forward and takes his arm, pulling the other man to his feet. Lee produces a pair of zip-cuffs from his pocket and cuffs the grunt's hand behind him, then takes the pokeball from his belt.

"Hey, wait!" The grunt twists in Lee's hold to look at the pokeball the scarred man seized. "What are you going to do to Purrloin? None of this was his fault, he was just following me!"

"I'm going to keep Purrloin with me for now," Lee calmly explains, returning the unconscious cat pokemon to his ball in a flash of red. Once Purrloin is returned, Lee holds down the pokeball's button to lock the ball, then shrinks it and drops it in his pocket. "Once this is all figured out, he'll be returned to you pending your trial and any resulting convictions." Lee's expression twists into distaste. "It's… more likely you'll be reunited faster if you cooperate," he says pointedly.

Brendan can't help but frown himself, looking at Ninetales as he does so. That seems like something she would say, not Lee.

The grunt's face falls, and his shoulders slump. "Okay…" He allows himself to be led over to the side of the building and sat down against some railing. Once sat, his current set of cuffs are cuffed to the railing so he can't escape.

After pulling the grunt's ID from his wallet, jotting a few things down, and asking a few questions, Lee gets to the meat of everything as Brendan and Zinnia stand by.

"Lawrence," Lee addresses the grunt by his name. In Lee's hands are his pen and notebook, the latest page of which is filled with the grunt's info. "You said you were the guard for the visitor center and the lift, right? You don't work in pairs or teams or anything?"

The grunt shakes his head. With his hood down, there is nothing hiding the miserable look on the youngish grunt's face. "No. The Admins want everything set up faster and lowered guards and patrols down to one man to free up workers. I'm covering both the visitor's office and the lift stop."

"What exactly are they working on?" Zinnia asks, leaning over the grunt with her hands on her hips. "With all the bogus closures, you have to have moved a lot of materials up here, right?"

"I don't know what they're working on," Lawrence denies. "I just know it's some big machine that dips down into the lava at the mouth of the volcano. It should be done today after they get the power source."

"Power source?" Brendan finally asks a question. Courtney didn't really fill him in on what was going on up here, only to make the right choice. "What's the power source?"

The grunt shrugs his shoulders as best he can while cuffed and sitting down. "I don't know. Some kind of meteorite filled with pokemon energy, I think? A team had to rough up some doctor named Cozmo to get him to adapt the machine in the volcano to use the meteorite. The Admins couldn't find a better power source, I guess?"

Brendan watches Lee's face when the scarred man's expression becomes forcefully neutral, tipping him off that Lee knows something about what's going on.

"Interesting," Lee murmurs, jotting another note down. "About how many people and pokemon are on this volcano operation?"

Again, the grunt shrugs. "Twenty? Twenty-two with Admins Tabitha and Courtney. Most of the guys only have one or two pokemon."

Zinnia hisses, and Lee gives Brendan a searching look.

Brendan looks away, not wanting to see how Lee and Zinnia regard him with pity. Marshtomp touches his elbow with a webbed hand in a silent show of support.

"Right, thank you…" Lee stands up straight, shoulders his bag, and stows away his notebook. "Stay here, Mister Lawrence. We'll be back."

The grunt is left as Lee takes the group a few paces away and gestures for a huddle.

"We could be looking at twenty to forty pokemon to fight, assuming a max of two per grunt, and that's not counting Courtney or this Tabitha character," Lee begins, giving Brendan and Zinnia hard looks. "Any suggestions on how to go about this?"

"We should have all of our pokemon ready from the get-go." Zinnia clicks her tongue and grabs her other three occupied pokeballs from her belt. "They'll probably try to pair off and hit us one on one, but if they're stupid, they might say to hell with it and try a dogpile. We should be ready for either, even if the latter is unlikely," she says, hitting the buttons on her pokeballs and enlarging them. She tosses the balls up, and all three pop open at the apex of their flight, depositing Swablu, Goomy, and Tyrunt at her feet.

Swablu trills out a neutral note, ready to go. Tyrunt snaps his jaws with a loud pop and hops from foot to foot, eager as can be. Goomy, meanwhile, just shrinks in on himself, quivering.

"Pair off? You really think there's any chance they'll play by any rules and fight one-to-one?" Lee asks, disbelief clear in his voice. He crosses his arms and shakes his head. "There's nothing stopping them."

'Lee always seems to expect the worst…' Brendan rolls his eyes.

Zinnia smirks, and it's a knowing one. "I forget you're still a novice in some things, Dolittle. This isn't a war or anything, so they aren't going to cross any lines that we won't. They know if they take desperate measures, we'll take desperate measures, and they have no way of knowing if our pokemon are more powerful than theirs. It's Pro Crook 101 to play it safe in battles unless you know for a fact they're weaker than you."

Lee hums to himself in thought. "So kind of like one of those hypothetical dilemmas you hear in school eh? Don't press the red button, because that genie won't go back into its bottle." He looks to the horizon with unseeing eyes for an uncomfortably long minute. "Is there any merit to non-lethally disabling the trainers themselves? I think I already know the answer, but…"

"That's the logical end of the desperate measures I was talking about," Zinnia mutters darkly. She looks up at the sky with something Brendan can't quite place in her red eyes. "Hurt the trainer, and what's stopping their enraged pokemon from returning the favor?" She asks.

Lee calmly nods like he expected nothing else. "Okay, let's make some final prep, then hop to it." He takes his pokeballs from his belt and tosses them up. Like Zinnia's, they snap open, and in flashes of light, Grovyle, Octillery, and Corvisquire are in position around him. Catching the falling pokeballs, Lee puts them back on his belt.

Grovyle and Octillery stand ready with little fanfare, looking towards Lee for instruction, while Corvisquire's beak is pulled back into a nasty, eager grin. The raven ruffles his feathers, and it sounds like steel rubbing on steel.

'It's my turn,' Brendan takes Mawile and Breloom's pokeballs in his hands. For a moment, he thinks about also taking Elektrike's, but stops short. 'Naw, he's too young.' He tosses the balls up, and both pop open. In flashes of white, Mawile and Breloom take form on either side of Marshtomp.

Both pokemon look up at him with open worry. Mawile's large, expressive eyes are already prickling with tears, and Breloom's tired face seems even more exhausted than usual.

Mawile steps forward, tenderly taking one of Brendan's hands in her tiny ones. She doesn't need to say a thing. Her disheartened face says more than words could anyway.

I'm… more than I say I am. I'm on a mission, and… I need your help.

I need your help.

Courtney's words echo in his skull again, and Brendan grits his teeth and pulls his hand away from Mawile's to ball it up in frustration.

He knows none of his pokemon agree with him.

---

"So, we're clear on formations and such?" Lee asks everyone, glancing over his shoulder to the visitor center doors. They need to move, and soon before someone in Magma notices something amiss.

The lift station atop Mt. Chimney is different from the one he remembers in either the games or the anime. In the anime, Lee swears the cable car had an indoor drop-off point, not an outdoor one. The pavilion and the location of the office are throwing him off as well. At least there wasn't a load of goons waiting for them…

The pokemon around the trio of humans give their confirmations to Lee's question with nods, yips, tweets, hisses, croaks, burbles, and other, single-syllable answers.

"Ready!" Zinnia smiles a smile that is perhaps a touch too eager.

Lee looks over to Brendan, who is lost in his thoughts for what seems like the tenth time today. The boy is staring not at him, but past him. "Hey, Brendan? Ready to go?"

Brendan blinks, coming back to reality. "Oh, uh…" He grins sheepishly and adjusts his hat. "Can I get that one more time?"

Lee resists the urge to sigh. Part of him wants to include Brendan, both because of the young Birch's ability as a trainer, and because of the guilt of lying to him, but it's clear the news of Courtney being a Magma member unbalanced him. 'I guess I can't blame him. First crushes are hard to overcome, and this is probably the worst way to do so…'

'He's been distracted all day, remember?' Ninetales says telepathically, replaying her own memory of Brendan's listlessness this morning for Lee. 'Perhaps it wasn't your revelation that is doing this?'

'Then what is doing it?' Lee grumbles then clears his throat. "If they all try to gang up on us, Octillery will hang back and snipe, with Goomy and Mawile as guards. Marshtomp, Shelgon, Tyrunt, and Breloom are going to be our linemen and stay in the front so we can keep the brawl contained on our terms, Corvi and Swablu will deal with fliers and help out below once they've got the sky under control, and Ninetales is going right into the thick of things to keep them disorganized. If Courtney or the other admin get involved, then Ninetales will break away from the main fight to hold them off. Once the grunts are cleaned up, everyone supports her. If things really start to go pear-shaped, Corvi will take off and get back up. Got it?"

At Lee's side, Corvisquire frowns and snaps his beak at his auxiliary role, but his ire dies near-instantly when Lee places a gentle hand on his head.

Brendan nods, but he still seems a little distracted if his wandering eyes are a reliable tell. "Got it."

"Okay…" Lee sighs and turns towards the visitor center, steeling his nerves. "We've gotta move fast, so let's go!" Lee throws the double doors open and heads inside, Ninetales only a single step behind him.

The large group of trainers and pokemon file into the office on Lee and Ninetales' heels (after Goomy hitches a ride on Shelgon's shell). They quickly march through the halls, and Lee silently laments that they aren't here for a day trip, as the exhibits regarding the pokemon of the volcano they pass look so enticing. Resolving to come back one day, Lee glances at a map on the wall they pass and hangs a right, leading everyone to the 'front' foyer of the office. Once the double glass doors leading out to the mouth of the volcano come into view, Lee holds a hand out behind him and stops the group.

Outside is a large, flat swathe of smoothed-over rock, serving as a courtyard of sorts before the building. From the doors, everyone is given a view of several smaller buildings that have also been erected on the mountain, such as a small eatery, another office, a gift shop, and an open shed with several volcanic rock exhibits on display, to name the prominent ones. Along those buildings, a number of Magma members mill about, either moving large crates on dollies, idly playing on their phones or with their pokemon, or in the case of one poor man, getting yelled at by a larger grunt. What the smaller, red-wearing man is getting smoked about is a mystery since the argument is too far away to hear.

'Nine?' Lee barely needs to ask, as he feels Ninetales stretching her mind out already, covering damn near the entire volcano.

'Courtney is out there,' the fox at his side grimly confirms. 'Near the mouth of the volcano, if the unearthly mass of Fire TE I sense is the lava pool. Besides her, there are twenty-three other people and seven loose pokemon.'

Lee takes one deep breath and screws his eyes shut, sending a prayer to God, Jesus, Arceus, Mew, hell, even Giratina is fine. Whoever is listening is good enough.

"C'mon, Dolittle!" Zinnia hisses, drawing Lee's attention to her. At Zinnia's feet, Tyrunt is practically slathering at the mouth for the fight to come, and Zinnia has her foot stomped on one of little dino's own to keep him from lumbering into the fray. "Are we doing this or what?"

With a grunt, Lee looks over his pokemon.

Ninetales smiles reassuringly, and Lee can feel the phantom sensation of hellfire in his chest, which is surely bleeding over from his fox. She gently noses his side. 'Ready when you are.'

Grovyle's leaves are already humming with danger and a glowing, razor edge. The gecko lightly bounces on his feet and gives Lee a simple nod, needing to say nothing else.

Octillery is laser-focused, his eyes locked forward on the nearest Magma goon with deadly-serious intent. Already, Lee can see the octopus thinking ten steps ahead.

Corvisquire's eyes gleam with unfettered violence and the desire to prove himself with it. He looks up at Lee, almost begging for the chance with his gaze alone.

Letting out his bated breath, Lee sets his face into as authoritative a scowl as he can. "Go in fast, demand they surrender, and respond quickly to the ones who don't. If they freak out, take formation and give them hell. Got it?" Without waiting for a reply from his friends, Lee steps forward and throws the doors between them and Team Magma open.

---

Below are the names of some patrons who got to view this chapter early and felt like signing it. A huge thanks to them and everyone else who supports this story and everything else I write.

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A short to get the brain juices moving. Check out https://www.patreon.com/fuggmann on the place of patrons if you want to see other stuff.

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"It's rubbish! Utter rubbish! Umbridge isn't going to teach us a thing! I'd put a galleon that we don't cast a spell the whole year!" Ron's voice carries down the entire stone hallway of Hogwarts and draws Hermione from her troubled thoughts. "Even bloody Lockheart was better, and all that ponce wanted to do was strut up and down the classroom and talk about how he 'vanquished' some bloody dog spirit or whatever…"

"Kitsune, Ron," Hermione corrects her red-headed friend without even thinking. "Lockheart said his newest book was about how he banished a kitsune, a fox spirit, that was inhabiting the body of a young woman." Hermione shakes her head a little, feeling silly that she fell for Lockheart's charming hero act. One only needs to read a bit about the Japanese spirits in question to realize something: even if Lockheart was as good as he pretended, going toe-to-toe with a kitsune is a tall order for any wizard. Even the weakest of the fox spirits are rated XXXXX class by the Ministry of Magic.

Ron merely shrugs. "Same difference."

'It's really not,' Hermione frowns.

Between Ron and Hermione, Harry finally speaks. "I'm just hoping this class isn't like DADA…" he grumbles, obviously still upset with the unfair detention he's going to be forced to serve with Umbridge tonight. "Who ever heard of a Care of Magical Creatures class in an actual classroom? They're always outside."

As Ron groans at the realization, Hermione thinks back to the new CoMC professor introduced the night prior.

---

"Now, we have two changes in staffing this year," Headmaster Dumbledore smiles like a model grandfather behind his podium at the head of the great hall. "As Professor Hagrid is taking a temporary leave of absence, please welcome this year's Care of Magical Creatures professor, Mister Lee Henson!"

Hermione, Ron, and Harry all focus on the man who replaced one of their favorite teachers.

At the staff table, seated between Professor Sprout and Professor McGonagall, Professor Henson stands.

Professor Henson is… Shockingly plain, if the trio of hair-raising, claw-like scars on the left of his face are discounted. The man is tall and lean, with a slight suntan uncommon to the British Isles. Under his black robe are a collared shirt, a tie, and slacks that would draw no eyes in either the wizarding or muggle worlds. The man stands and smiles amid polite applause from the students, waving to everyone for a moment before sitting back down.

Hermione's eyes narrow.

When the professor waved, she spied a number of curious spheres hooked to the right of his belt, each one the size of a golf ball and numbering roughly six. They were nothing like any other wizarding tool she's seen before. When she laid eyes on the first one… the young witch swore she felt eyes peering back at her…

---

As the trio reach the end of the hallway and push the door to the classroom open, Hermione can't help but flush in embarrassment as many eyes turn to look at them.

They're the last ones to arrive.

"Ah, there you are! You three made it with a minute to spare." At the front of the room, Professor Henson is seated on the front of his desk with a smile on his face, seemingly not upset by the close call. His robe is gone from his person, and his sleeves are rolled back, showing the class a number of scars on his arms, though nowhere near as severe as the ones upon his face. "Go ahead and sit down. Class starts in just a minute," he says, his voice unmistakably American.

As the trio sit down at one of the open, three-person desks, Hermione takes a moment to examine the classroom.

Unlike other classrooms, which are decorated to the tastes and needs of their teacher, the CoMC classroom is rather spartan. There are desks, the Professor's desk, a chalkboard, a few bookshelves against the wall, a curious glass case bearing eight differently shaped pins, and that's it. It's as though the professor brought nothing of his own into the castle.

"Blimey, what's that thing?" Ron suddenly asks under his breath, pointing a subtle finger at the professor.

Following Ron's finger, Hermione… isn't quite sure what she's looking at, and she's not alone if the whispers in the classroom are any indicator.

Stepping out from behind the professor's desk is a gold-furred fox of mammoth proportions. The vulpine must dwarf the average Great Dane and then some, at its large enough to rest its head in the professor's lap even with the professor sitting on his desk. As it walks, its dainty paws are completely silent, and the multiple tails sprouting from its spine all form a majestic fan shape behind it. As the fox sits beside the professor, piercing red eyes that shine like gemstones scan the class.

Hermione shivers as the eyes pass over her, hitting her with the same sensation she felt at the opening feast last night.

"Hey there, love. You finished your nap just in time to help out with class," Professor Henson smiles and strokes the beast behind its ear, and Hermione swears she sees the fox smile a little. The professor then looks up at the clock on the wall and hums to himself. "Okay, top of the hour, so let's get started. We'll begin with roll call, do intros, the syllabus, and whatnot," the professor says, taking a piece of parchment from his desk. Clearing his throat, the professor reads off each name.

As roll call takes place, Hermione can't help but let her eyes be drawn to the fox at the professor's side again. Even without the fox looking at her, the young witch shifts in unease, for something prods her atrophied instincts, demanding she remains alert. She almost forgets to say "Here!" when her name is called.

Once the roll call ends, the professor sets the list of names aside and stands up. "Okay, everyone. It's the first day, so I won't load you down with work. Once we get intros and the syllabus out of the way, we'll use the rest of the period for questions, either about me, the lessons, or whatever you wish."

Both the Gryffindor and Slytherin students give a short cheer upon learning they have a little less homework.

The professor clears his throat, and the sound calms the cheers. "Before we begin, does anyone have any pressing questions that can't wait?"

"Professor," Harry speaks up, and Hermione cringes a little at the unspoken accusation in Harry's voice and narrowed eyes. "Why did you replace Hagrid? And where is Hagrid?"

The golden fox's head snaps up, its red eyes staring hateful holes into Harry.

To his credit, Harry doesn't flinch.

Professor Henson places a gentle hand on his fox's head, and it turns its head away with a growl. "It sounds like you were fond of Professor Hagrid. Mister Potter was it?" The professor shakes his head ruefully. "Well, I didn't want to replace Professor Hagrid. It sounds like he was a beloved fixture in the school. Heck, if we're being honest, I didn't want to be a teacher at all." The man's words cause an outbreak of whispers. "Headmaster Dumbledore… got me out of a spot of legal trouble with the ministry recently. Nothing criminal, just a case of traveling paperwork that wasn't up to snuff. In return, he asked me to teach while Professor Hagrid is away, saying you all would benefit from my insight. As for what Professor Hagrid is doing?" He shrugs. "It's not my business, so I didn't ask."

Harry frowns, obviously unsatisfied, but he doesn't speak out anymore.

Near the back of the room, Hermione can hear Malfoy scoff and mutter something to the Slytherin beside him.

The gold fox's ears perk.

"Mister Malfoy!" The professor speaks up suddenly, causing more than one student to jump. "This 'yank' has ears, but they're not good enough to hear all the way back there. Can you speak up, please?" He asks, leveling the blonde Slytherin with an unamused face.

Flushed red in embarrassment, Malfoy stands up and clears his throat. "I was merely wondering about your qualifications, professor," Malfoy's usual tone is replaced with the faux-politeness he uses for professors other than Snape. "Our last professor had none, so as you can understand, I have concerns."

Hermione has to clamp her hand over Harry's arm to keep her friend from standing up and loudly defending Hagrid.

Professor Henson and his fox meet eyes for a second, then the professor hums in thought again. "Let's turn this into a lesson, then. I do possess a magizoologist certification, and based on my partner here, I'll let you deduce what class of creatures I'm rated to handle. Nine, if you would?"

The fox, apparently named 'Nine', steps forward and stands before the class in a side profile, giving everyone an ample view of her. She lets out a human-like sigh and gives the professor a half-hearted glare.

"Now," Professor Henson claps his hand together once and ignores the red eyes digging into him. "I'm sure everyone can see her rough resemblance to a mundane fox. The first one to deduce her species and ministry classification based on current observations gets twenty-five points for their house. Let's give it…" He glances up at the clock. "Fifteen minutes. If you know the answer, raise your hand. Go!"

Everyone quickly rushes to open their bags and pull out their books, and the class is filled with the sound of turning pages and hushed discussion. Beside Hermione, Harry opens his own book while Ron just drops his head to the desk, already giving up. "Any ideas, Hermione?" Harry asks, looking over his glasses at her.

"A few…" Hermione's eyes comb over the fox, taking in every detail from the gold fur, to the red eyes, to the tufts of fur on her chest and head. Then Hermione moves to the tails. "Hold on…" Her eyes narrow in thought, and she silently counts the number of tails she sees. "...Seven, eight… nine…" The muggleborn witch feels her veins ice over. 'There is no way the professor brought one here. It's impossible to tame one.' She counts the tails again, and once more, there are nine of them.

There are a few groans from the Slytherin students as Hermione's shaking hand rises, but Professor Henson ignores them and points Hermione's way. "Yes, Miss… Granger, right?"

"Y-Yes, professor…" Hermione gulps, acutely aware of the fox staring at her. She dares not meet the spirit's eyes. "Your friend… Is she a nine-tailed kitsune?"

A few whispers break out in response in the classroom.

"Kitsune? What's that?"

"Never seen one before. Foreign, innit?"

"I saw 'em mentioned in some Asian comic book once."

Both the professor and the Nine the kitsune seem surprised. "Well now…" He smiles at the kitsune, who is seemingly sulking as if she lost some unspoken bet. "Considering Nine's kind aren't native to Europe, I didn't expect anyone to get that. Bravo!" The professor lightly applauds. "If you want to elaborate on what a kitsune is for the class, Miss Granger, I could be convinced to part with more points."

Hermione licks her lips and thinks to herself, trying to find an answer that is not only correct, but stresses the unreal danger that everyone is currently in. The last thing they need is someone like Malfoy or his hanger-ons accidentally damning them all for an errant insult.

"The k-kitsune…" Hermione pauses and steadies herself. "The kitsune is a mythical creature from Japanese folklore that is often depicted as a fox with supernatural powers. Kitsune are associated with various attributes, such as wisdom, intelligence, trickery, curses, and various powerful magics."

The mention of curses makes everyone quiet down and pay attention.

Hermione continues, her voice picking up strength. "One of the most famous versions of the kitsune is the Kyuubi no Kitsune or the 'Nine-tailed fox'. In Japanese folklore, the nine-tailed fox is a powerful creature that can live for centuries. It is said that the more tails a kitsune has, the more powerful it is, with each tail representing an accumulated century of power."

The more Hermione goes on, the more the danger sinks in to her classmates. For a moment, Hermione thinks about telling everyone about the legendary kitsune Tamamo-no-mae, a kitsune seen as a monster and unstoppable engine of destruction after slaying thousands of soldiers and wizards in ancient Japan. She holds her tongue at the last second, fearing the fox in the classroom might take the comparison as a slight.

"A nine-tailed kitsune is said to possess intelligence and an understanding of magic superior to that of a human. They are natural shape-shifters, capable of transforming into a human form, other animals, or inanimate objects. They can utilize pyromancy, telekinesis, mind magics, illusions, wards, various dark magics, spiritual magics, space-time magics, unbreakable curses, and many others." Hermione takes a breath. "The oldest and most powerful kitsune are the Tenko, who are nine-tailed kitsune with white or golden fur. It's said these kitsune have divine powers, and they're thusly worshiped…" She hesitates, finally looking at the kitsune in the room, but not at her eyes, "as holy spirits and deities."

The classroom is utterly silent as Hermione takes her seat once more. From the corner of her eyes, she sees Harry look mystified, and Ron deathly pale.

The young witch looks forward again, at the living legend at the front of the room.

The kitsune seems to draw the eyes of everyone in, and Hermione can feel an ethereal weight upon her head and shoulders, pushing her down as if compelling her to bow. As the seconds pass, it grows heavier and heavier.

"Love, stop it! You're making the kids nervous."

The weight vanishes, and more than one student suddenly gasps when it does.

Nine the kitsune turns and stares up at the professor with a sour look on her muzzle.

The professor kneels down to her level and takes Nine's cheeks in his hands, smooshing her face as if she were a lapdog and not a thousand-year-old terror. A growl rolls out of the kitsune's throat, and Hermione mentally prepares herself to see what kind of horror will be inflicted on her teacher.

"So dramatic…" Professor Henson clicks his tongue. "Corvi is enough of a drama queen for all seven of us. You don't need to compete."

Nine's jaws dart out and nip the professor right on the tip of his nose.

"Ow!" He stands and rubs his nose, which is still on his face, miraculously. "Love hurts, it seems."

The kitsune snorts, seating herself and wrapping her tails around her legs. After a moment of fidgeting, she sighs and stands again. The fox rises to her hind legs, braces her forepaws on the professor's shoulders, and gives him a short, affectionate lick on his nose, right over where she bit him.

"The feared Lady Ninetales, kissing boo boos better. What would Battlenet say?" The professor chuckles as Nine sits once more. "Anyway…" Professor Henson rolls his eyes and turns his gaze to Hermione. "To finish up the question, what is Nine's ministry rating, Miss Granger?"

'I don't think I was ready for today…' Hermione sighs, feeling the mental exhaustion of Umbridge's non-class and whatever this is catching up to her. "Class 5, or XXXXX, sir." Then the professor's earlier words return to her and her eyes widen. "Wait, professor, you said earlier that you're certified to handle creatures in the same class as Miss Nine, correct? That would mean-"

The professor smiles and raises a hand, halting her. "Class, allow me to introduce myself properly and put any doubts to rest. My name is Lee Henson, and I'm the first person since Newton Scamander to be certified in the handling and care of Class XXXXX creatures."

---

Below are the names of some patrons who got to view this short early and felt like signing it. A huge thanks to them and everyone else who supports this story and everything else I write.

puppy0cam (begrudgingly), Kdonmination (less begrudgingly), speedyzman13, DJ Firefox, Ray, Javidom, derpydude9001, ShaRose, Spice_King, TitaniumPhoenix, Grey, Tezral, Emeraldleafeon, Planetace, TheTankiestTrain, Cynicals, Hiniko, Green0Photon, Berusella, Hazel Kings, , Dicloniuslord, ClassicDom, rizen, Murtaugh, JustALurker, Moxie, HT1318, monoman335, demonmonkey89