Chapter 3
Unpromising Resolve
The bitter surge of melancholic memories began to fade into nothing more than grief and overwhelming, unwanted nostalgia. I struggled to fight the firm sensation striking at my chest, the urge to break into tears. They were but mere indications of weakness. But I couldn't resist. The severe certainty both manifestations were riding on took control of me, and conquered my will. And now I felt it: cold, harsh tears flowing promptly on my cheeks, the cruel pain emptying into my heart, filling it with more misery than it already had. A suffering I could never accept.
"I am deeply sorry, Matthew," Steven spoke, considerate about my situation. "I am sure you would want this back."
He steadily reached into his right pocket and, on his hand, lay the emerald pendant once given to me. It was the medallion that acknowledged me as a Militant Wing, a rank that I would have served by his side, but, it didn't matter to me. Very few things do now. He had given that to me for the reason that he knew –and truly believed– that I was more than just his student. I was a reliable associate one could count on…
I slowly reach towards the emerald pendant, steadily grasping it. The warm radiance imbued within it welcomed a stir that struck me in a whir of hesitant reaction. I could feel it remain and quiver along with the memories and nightmares I had refused to recapture.
Regret.
"I understand," Steven started, gazing sincerely on the object that had fleetingly captured my vision. "It is my responsibility to look after you until you have completely recovered, and…I suppose you deserve to know more than what had just been said."
I turned to meet his uncertain gaze, not knowing what truth existed besides the one I then knew of. And I could strongly sense it was of same severity and anguish as before.
"Steven, what do you mean exactly?" I asked him, puzzled by his statement.
"The Senate recommended that I look after you during your confinement here in Petalburg and give bare details if you had happen to forgotten," he replied. "They were amazed that you managed to survive despite your extremely critical situation, so they sent me to aid during the process of your treatment. I was relieved you had woken up without that much damage to your memory."
Somehow, this wasn't how I felt. The relief and liberation built up within me in abundance once I had realized my dark tribulation was a mere nightmare and the present condition of my partners, but that all changed considerably when the past had revealed the dismal truth it had long concealed from me. Still, the sinister bond between my torment and my memories was of no concern to him at the moment.
"But as for what you have to be informed about," Steven continued, "we have considerable reason to believe that what had taken place a week ago was far beyond a terrible accident."
At this moment, I had realized the connection. It instilled a strong and fleeting emotion that overruled others and blazed furiously within me. I clenched the medallion firmly, and then turned my thoughts towards it
Extrajudicial punishment.
"Multiple assassinations made to appear like an accident, correct?" I responded resolutely, thinking about the dark correlations.
"Yes, but was only meant for one." Steven replied, even more tentative than before. "The three that were killed may have been a valuable sideline since their ranks were significant."
It made me shudder both in genuine antipathy and disgust. How could someone do such a vile act of execution without hesitation and remorse? Thoughts of the dark nightmare came back to me, seeing the decaying bodies of people and Pokémon that lay in enormous heaps of decomposing abhorrence. The contemptible intention was no different from the images I had seen so clearly during my coma…without any significance or regard for life.
"Why make it look like an accident?" I asked.
"Whoever did this didn't want to stir commotion and suspicion too early. The death of the Champion isn't much as necessary to cause the Republic's fall. Other political eliminations are necessary and many would surely loose their lives in its progression," Steven noted before turning towards me. "But these are just baseless theories. Don't let these thoughts concern you, Matthew. We are capable of handling it."
But it did concern me above everything else. I remember when he had given me the principled status of a Militant Wing. I accepted this rank with all my soul, and I was truthfully determined to achieve the task I was given, and despite the fleeting rage then coursing through me, I was resolute to put an absolute end to the wicked organization bent on the fall of the Republic through ruthless execution.
"I won't let him down," I told Steven. "It won't happen again."
"Matthew?" he asked in a momentary appearance of puzzlement. Then, he waved his hand dismissively. "You should get more rest. You'll probably need it to regain your strength."
Steven stood and started to leave. "It isn't compulsory for you to get involved Matthew."
"Yes it is." I spoke in a solid tone.
Steven stopped and ogled at me curiously.
I took hold of the emerald medallion and held it high. "I, Matthew Versil, am a Militant Wing of President Brendan Birch's Inquisition, and I bear the legal responsibility and course of action of his confidential inquiry under his resolution which takes precedence over all."
"But, Matt-"
"No," I adamantly interrupted. "Five innocent lives were lost that day because of the twisted objective of whoever had infiltrated the administration, and as you said, a lot more may lose their lives at their corrupt hands if not stopped. I made the same mistake then, and I definitely don't intend on letting it ever happen again!"
To say the least, Steven was astounded. He turned to me, trying to decipher my unwavering intentions at that moment. I wanted to prove that this title was worth my capabilities and that I didn't want to let Brendan down -- not now nor ever. I didn't want any more lives to be lost that way -- only to further their perverse cause.
I had thought this assassination was prompted by political or military reasons, but I was terribly mistaken, they weren't after one public figure — they were determined to execute the majority of the administration…only to gain supremacy, retribution and command in exchange…
"Well, I can see there is no use in concealing this from you…"
"Brendan was an exceptional individual Matthew; he had seen what the Bureau acknowledged as non-existent." Steven smiled, then his momentary grin began to fade into sincere concern, "A month back, Brendan had informed me concerning his thoughts about this through private, system conferences. At that time, we were the only individuals who were material witnesses to the transgression movement. He had shown me recent, chronologically ordered index lists of shipments from Slateport's docking piers. The anomalous thing was, there had been a few empty slots on that catalog and, there was an irregular interval of time between these slots. Obvious contentions of the contraband dealing conspiracies.
"But that wasn't all. He had found excessive leveraging within the Senate's confederate branches. These martial administrators would hardly ever do such, considering there hasn't been national turmoil in decades. Proceeds from these leverages would then transfer into the NSB's backing inventory. Someone higher up, noticeably within the Confederates, was corrupting the Bureau slowly, like a disease. Of course, the Bureau and the Senate's third branch had an extremely close mutual connection. And only the President had the legal, overruling supremacy to cancel their sovereign authority, something they didn't want. But now, they are most likely aiming to terminate a few specific National Assembly bureaucrats to prevent an immediate constitutional election — two procedures to establish a premeditated revolution.
"And to fund such a revolution, financial revenue had to be effortless and enigmatic — this is where the illegal trade comes in. This sluggish yet deliberate procedure is where the Confederate infiltrators get there proceeds from.
"Though, he urged me to keep his findings classified until sweeping measures were to be taken. These were not to be made public, for the effect would be catastrophic: panic and restlessness among the citizens which would lead to a revolt and the exact cause of the insurgents — the literal rationale why he kept this for so long.
"But what we are up against is far beyond any crime organization. They coordinate their actions with precise timing and do not exercise strength. They will kill you if the chance presents itself. Doesn't that concern you?"
"I need to take this chance to prove I'm worthy of my rank," I replied. "I am resolute to end their violence before everything will interweave into and result in more slaughter and mayhem. I could never wait and sit around knowing deaths within the Senate or even most probably civilian inhabitants are imminent."
My willpower was steadfast and committed. I wasn't about to shatter the promise I had made since I had acknowledged and accepted my rank as Militant of the State, knowing what dreadful corollary this choice could have brought. And to the vow I made to Brendan… not only had I accepted this on his behalf, but I felt it was now up to me… And that if I had failed, a thousand innocent lives would be lost in the same sickening and heartless method I had already experienced.
"Are you sure of this, Matthew? The Senate cannot impede your choice because they have no command over His Excellency's resolution, regardless of his absence. No one may take away what has already been given to you."
I knew that because of the course of this whole incident, there was nothing more I would have wanted to find out, although it seemed as if there was more in the wake of the flight accident. It was even darker than anything I could have ever imagined. A nightmare made real.
"But if this is what Brendan would want and for you to truly accomplish, we can help you…"
Still, I had no idea who we were up against and what their next actions were. I knew it was more than a monetary profit they were after, but regardless, we still had a chance against them. There was no collective conflict here, only definite executions meant for high ranks within the Senate. As dark and merciless as their methods were, I had survived, and a lot more would fall if their cold-blooded acts would persist. How selfish and craven would I be if I had accepted the status of militant, knowing their cruel methods of dealing those who oppose them?
"I've decided," I told Steven without tension in my voice, "I want to stop them even if it means death in the course of action."
I closed my eyes in thought, reliving the dreadful nightmare that would most likely unfold into the dark realism it already is. But a genuine force within me had conquered that fear. Some time ago, I had felt it give strength to my weary limbs at the time of darkness and utter hopelessness. That same energy was with me once again, and it was more dominant than ever before.
Resolve.
