Citrinin
Nephrotoxic.
- 2,778
- Posts
- 14
- Years
- Age 27
- New Zealand
- Seen Aug 2, 2010
I'm currently dipping from the pot of already-finished chapters on my computer without giving anything back. XD; I don't want to make you wait for too long, though. :D
By the way, I don't think I've ever said this before, but you guys are really the best audience a reader could hope for. Seriously. You're loyal, helpful, and you think about what I'm doing on a deep level. You have no idea how happy I still get when I see another review. :3 (And it's different than the kind you get at the start. At the start, you're happy to see a review by virtue of it being a review. At this stage in the game, it's the quality of your reviews that really gets me excited and keeps me going.)
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Walking Nightmare
Crash.
The metallic trapdoor, previously concealed by twigs and mud, was smashed open by the explosion of Electrode. Three figures in black cloaks stood over the door, and about five-hundred men in camouflage circled the area.
"Incapacitate, don't kill," said one cold voice. Bevan's.
He stood back, and motioned downwards. About a hundred soldiers stormed down the basement in two lines, each holding a large automatic gun in front of them. It was anything but silent: this was an assault front. Few of the soldiers were expected to survive.
There was another exit, one that led into the underground caves. It was there that the fleeing Knife members would be met by an ambush of Cloaks and Unit 6 agents. Bevan had managed to do what nobody before him had done: find a Knife Base.
After the soldiers had infiltrated, Bevan, with the two other Cloaks at his side, walked down, each pulling out a Pokéball.
"So, what exactly is this 'Vile Vial'?" Cicero was curious, and Manfred happened to be in his laboratory.
Manfred smiled. "It's far worse than anything you've made."
Cicero muttered to himself darkly, "I rather doubt it."
"Well, we could talk about that if you'd prefer," whispered Manfred.
Cicero shook his head. "I'd rather not."
"The vial, then," said Manfred, shrugging. "It oozed out of the ground after the Event. One of the oddities that it caused."
"Oddities is hardly the word to describe them."
For about a week after the Event had occurred, strange things had happened. They were almost like glitches of the world: the adverse effects of the Distortion World meeting with Earth. Most of them were one-off events: a cliff suddenly collapsing, or a tsunami with know precipitating earthquake.
"In any case, my grandfather saw the Pokémon lapping it up. They were desperate for water, you see. Of course, it tasted so foul that they spat it out after it touched their tongue. And that tiny bit of the liquid would cause them to become incredibly powerful. So, he scooped up the small puddle and placed it in a vial, so that no man could ever exploit its potential."
"And...?"
"It got passed down from him to my father, and my father to me. And then, Augury stole it."
"So... what exactly happened to these Pokémon?"
"He saw two Pokémon take it. The first was a Pidgeot, who spat it out immediately and... it became horrible. It roared in pain, and flew off, splitting a tree trunk as it flew through it. He was scared, and tried thought of it as a bad dream. Then an Ambipom came, and swallowed it too quickly."
"I'm finding this hard to believe. Why would they drink such a liquid? Even if desperate for water, they should know that it's not."
"The urge to drink it, is... Giratina couldn't explain it fully, either," said Manfred woefully. At the mention of Giratina, Cicero sceptically snorted, which Manfred ignored. "Giratina said that it was simply a piece of his world flying into our world. It was sufficiently big that it maintained its structure, mixing with our own world, probably with some dangerous microscopic organisms and some rainwater. In contrast, the tiny bits that flew through would simply go off at random, causing the collapsing cliffs and spontaneous combustions.
"When you see it, you feel like it's water. We have the good sense to know it's not, but every time you see it, you just seem to feel, so strongly, like you're looking at water."
"What effect does it have on humans? Do we know?"
"Death," said Manfred darkly. "My father... succumbed to temptation. He was essentially our village elder, and liked power. Power beyond his power over people. So, he took a drop. Just a drop. Blood poured out of every orifice while he convulsed in his chamber."
"I-I'm sorry." Even as he said this, he got the feeling that Manfred wasn't being completely honest.
Manfred waved it off. "He was a good man, but a foolish one."
"...The Ambipom, what happened to it?"
"He had a full gulp of it. According to my grandfather, he had about a third of the puddle, so that gives us an indication of what the stuff in the Vile Vial can do now. He became hideous. His body darkened, he enlarged a little bit, and he roared with power. It took forty bullets in the head from my grandfather before it collapsed. If it wasn't in the painful transformation stages, my grandfather wouldn't have had the time to kill the beast. It was then that he gathered the liquid and placed it in what is now known as the Vile Vial. And he stored it away, so that no Pokémon would ever have to suffer like Ambipom did, and no man would ever try to use it to his advantage."
"Admirable."
"Of course, his attempt was in vain. And now, with the Vile Vial out there. And on top of that Calv-"
"Calv?"
"No, I've said too much already. Dagger probably won't like you knowing about the vial. Ask him if you're interested."
Bevan walked calmly through the halls of Knife Base 2. All around him, chaos was ensuing. Knife members were being knocked out, although many were fighting back. Sparks of lightning and bursts of fire met the roar of bullets. In some places, Pokémon fought Pokémon, particularly where the Cloaks were involved.
Bevan released the Pokéball in his hand. "Froscra," the emergent creature murmured. Froscra was an ice and psychic type, and deceptively powerful. It was white, furry, and ball-shaped, with a diameter of approximately two feet. Protruding from its back was a large, whip-like tail, spiked at the end. Its face consisted simply of three wide, glowing eyes in the form of a triangle, and a wide mouth consisting of innumerable sharp fangs.
A Knife member in the distance spotted this, and ordered his Quilava forward.
"Frostbite," ordered Bevan coldly.
Froscra released its mouth, sending a stream of black frost to surround the oncoming Quilava, enveloping it, and leaving it coated in a thick layer of ice.
"Flame wheel!"
"Psybeam," said Bevan, taking his eyes off the battle.
Quilava moved, cracking the ice with his heat, before being blasted backwards by Psybeam, left confused and attacking itself with its own flames.
The Knife member, with a look of shock on his face, reached for another Pokéball, but it was too late. Bevan simply pointed to the trainer. Once again, Froscra's eyes lit up, releasing a twisting beam of psychic energy, knocking the Knife member unconscious. Perfect for later capture.
This is too easy, thought Bevan arrogantly. After all, when you can predict someone's next move by flicking through their most recent thoughts, battle is no challenge.
He beckoned his Pokémon forward, ready to destroy this hideout.
An hour later, every enemy was either dead, unconscious, or, in the case of two, free. Bevan strode through the wreckage. He turned when he saw a door. He recognised it: it was the metallic door leading to the hackers' room. He looked around. Empty.
Empty of life, anyway. The large computer, that allowed supposedly untraceable connections to other Knife bases, stood in the room. It was logged on: evidently, the hackers had fled the room when they heard the storming boots of the military.
He fiddled around with a few of the button until he came to the communication application. On the screen, it offered to allow him to find a certain member. He input 'Dagger'. Suddenly, a large series of commands rushed through the screen, displaying numbers and letters (interestingly enough, only from A-F) that made no sense to him.
Eventually, a large screen popped up: he saw into the communications room of Knife Base 2 (not that he knew that was what it was, and even if he did, it would have been no use to him). The hacker at the other end looked up from the computer, and almost fell off his chair when he realised just who was at the other end.
"Ah, so you know who I am," said Bevan, hunched over the large control panel. "I was wondering whether Dagger might be available."
"Y-yes... a-a-alright."
The timid hacker rushed out of the room, screaming at the top of his lungs, "Dagger! It's Emerit!"
A few seconds later, the fully concealed, but ever so familiar body of Dagger walked into the room. He was calm, and a hint of reminiscence was evident in his eyes.
"Ah, Bevan. We've lost touch."
Bevan didn't smile. "Knife Base 9 has been captured."
"Yes, we've realised that for a while," said Dagger smugly. "We didn't send reinforcements, because, well... you made that impossible. I'm impressed. Rex would have been too arrogant to bring in the sheer numbers of the military."
At the mention of Rex, Bevan's face twitched ever so slightly, betraying a sliver of anger. Even three years later, Bevan had not fully purged himself of emotion.
"Why did you demand to speak with me, Bevan? You can't trace my location. It would take years to unravel the encryption sequence."
Bevan shrugged. "I'd guessed as much. Otherwise you would have disconnected. In any case, I've come to show you this." He lifted up a photograph. It was of a man, shackled and starved. He was pale: on the brink of death, but not quite there.
Dagger recoiled at seeing it.
"Ah, so the omniscient Dagger doesn't even know the whereabouts of his own father," cooed Bevan cruelly.
"Turn it off!" ordered Dagger. Dagger realised what he was trying to do: scare him. There was no bargain, no ransom, for the other side were cleverer than that. It was simply a mechanism of fear. Augury's usual, personal tactics.
"No!"
It was Charlotte's voice. This time, it was Bevan who recoiled, although only slightly. Charlotte walked tentatively into the vision of the camera.
"B-Bevan... what are you doing?"
"Leave the room," said Bevan, looking away from Charlotte. Dagger nodded, and motioned for the hackers to do the same. Dagger knew that Bevan still had an emotional connection with Charlotte, and he trusted Charlotte to exploit it. But that was not possible if there were others in the room.
Charlotte leaned into the monitor, her eyes watering. "Bevan... Look at you..."
Bevan stared at her, his mouth curling down at the edges. "I... I..."
"What, Bevan? You had no choice?"
Bevan glared at her. "As a matter of fact, I didn't, Charlotte. Augury caught me."
"So you survived. How many did you kill to ensure your life stayed in this world? How could you be so selfish?"
"Every action is selfish," said Bevan, annoyed.
"Sir -" a Cloak walked into the communication room at Bevan's end. Bevan waved him away. "Await my orders outside."
"'Every action is selfish'?" questioned Charlotte, angry. "Did Augury teach you that?"
Bevan looked away. "It doesn't matter who taught me. Even acts done to satisfy others are only done so chemicals are released in our brains to make the individual happy that he helped someone."
"I... I called you Bevan earlier. I was wrong. You're not the Bevan I knew. Perhaps I should call you what everyone else does: Emerit. You're more like your father than the boy I met three years ago. The Bevan I knew wouldn't try to reduce kindness to chemical formulas. He'd know who deserved it and who didn't. Now you... there's no person who receives any kindness or mercy from you."
Bevan breathed heavily. For so long, he had suppressed his emotion, and here was Charlotte, exposing it. And yet, she was like a drug. Even though he knew he should walk away, he maintained the line of communication.
"And how do you think that affects me, Charlotte? Do you know what it's like living as a monster?"
"Get out, then," Charlotte implored. Now, tears were streaming down her face.
"That's not possible. What I've become... there's no going back. I cannot feel anymore. The Bevan you knew is dead."
"You're feeling now! You don't even realise it, Bevan!"
"Perhaps, but this is a temporary phase, Charlotte. Temporary. When I walk out that door, the fire burning in my blood will extinguish! And I will kill. Again, and again, and again. I'm too deep. And even if I could escape the prison that I built, I'll never, never escape Augury's grasp." As he said this, his eyes prickled with passion. He took a deep breath. "If I break down my own cage, I'll simply fall into the spikes below."
"Then fall! I'd rather mourn your death than see you like this."
Bevan shook his head. "Nothing is worse than oblivion. This is an unfulfilled existence, but an existence nonetheless."
Charlotte shook her head. "For three years, I've been hoping that you had a modicum of humanity left in you. A shred of decency. I've been lying to myself." With that, Charlotte ran out of the room.
Tears of rage streaming down his face, Bevan mashed the escape button, closing the window.
"But... that doesn't explain why Calvin Shore was kept alive," said Cicero. He had just been told of the role of Calvin Shore played in securing the money. And the vial. Dagger had agreed, albeit reluctantly, to tell Cicero the whole story. After all, Cicero already possessed a great deal of secrets. One more couldn't hurt.
"No, it doesn't," said Dagger. "Astonishing how many people don't pick up on this fact. If anything, it gives incentive for Augury to end Shore's life."
"What haven't you told me? What use is Calvin Shore to Augury?"
"He's Liam's father."
By the way, I don't think I've ever said this before, but you guys are really the best audience a reader could hope for. Seriously. You're loyal, helpful, and you think about what I'm doing on a deep level. You have no idea how happy I still get when I see another review. :3 (And it's different than the kind you get at the start. At the start, you're happy to see a review by virtue of it being a review. At this stage in the game, it's the quality of your reviews that really gets me excited and keeps me going.)
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Walking Nightmare
Crash.
The metallic trapdoor, previously concealed by twigs and mud, was smashed open by the explosion of Electrode. Three figures in black cloaks stood over the door, and about five-hundred men in camouflage circled the area.
"Incapacitate, don't kill," said one cold voice. Bevan's.
He stood back, and motioned downwards. About a hundred soldiers stormed down the basement in two lines, each holding a large automatic gun in front of them. It was anything but silent: this was an assault front. Few of the soldiers were expected to survive.
There was another exit, one that led into the underground caves. It was there that the fleeing Knife members would be met by an ambush of Cloaks and Unit 6 agents. Bevan had managed to do what nobody before him had done: find a Knife Base.
After the soldiers had infiltrated, Bevan, with the two other Cloaks at his side, walked down, each pulling out a Pokéball.
*
"So, what exactly is this 'Vile Vial'?" Cicero was curious, and Manfred happened to be in his laboratory.
Manfred smiled. "It's far worse than anything you've made."
Cicero muttered to himself darkly, "I rather doubt it."
"Well, we could talk about that if you'd prefer," whispered Manfred.
Cicero shook his head. "I'd rather not."
"The vial, then," said Manfred, shrugging. "It oozed out of the ground after the Event. One of the oddities that it caused."
"Oddities is hardly the word to describe them."
For about a week after the Event had occurred, strange things had happened. They were almost like glitches of the world: the adverse effects of the Distortion World meeting with Earth. Most of them were one-off events: a cliff suddenly collapsing, or a tsunami with know precipitating earthquake.
"In any case, my grandfather saw the Pokémon lapping it up. They were desperate for water, you see. Of course, it tasted so foul that they spat it out after it touched their tongue. And that tiny bit of the liquid would cause them to become incredibly powerful. So, he scooped up the small puddle and placed it in a vial, so that no man could ever exploit its potential."
"And...?"
"It got passed down from him to my father, and my father to me. And then, Augury stole it."
"So... what exactly happened to these Pokémon?"
"He saw two Pokémon take it. The first was a Pidgeot, who spat it out immediately and... it became horrible. It roared in pain, and flew off, splitting a tree trunk as it flew through it. He was scared, and tried thought of it as a bad dream. Then an Ambipom came, and swallowed it too quickly."
"I'm finding this hard to believe. Why would they drink such a liquid? Even if desperate for water, they should know that it's not."
"The urge to drink it, is... Giratina couldn't explain it fully, either," said Manfred woefully. At the mention of Giratina, Cicero sceptically snorted, which Manfred ignored. "Giratina said that it was simply a piece of his world flying into our world. It was sufficiently big that it maintained its structure, mixing with our own world, probably with some dangerous microscopic organisms and some rainwater. In contrast, the tiny bits that flew through would simply go off at random, causing the collapsing cliffs and spontaneous combustions.
"When you see it, you feel like it's water. We have the good sense to know it's not, but every time you see it, you just seem to feel, so strongly, like you're looking at water."
"What effect does it have on humans? Do we know?"
"Death," said Manfred darkly. "My father... succumbed to temptation. He was essentially our village elder, and liked power. Power beyond his power over people. So, he took a drop. Just a drop. Blood poured out of every orifice while he convulsed in his chamber."
"I-I'm sorry." Even as he said this, he got the feeling that Manfred wasn't being completely honest.
Manfred waved it off. "He was a good man, but a foolish one."
"...The Ambipom, what happened to it?"
"He had a full gulp of it. According to my grandfather, he had about a third of the puddle, so that gives us an indication of what the stuff in the Vile Vial can do now. He became hideous. His body darkened, he enlarged a little bit, and he roared with power. It took forty bullets in the head from my grandfather before it collapsed. If it wasn't in the painful transformation stages, my grandfather wouldn't have had the time to kill the beast. It was then that he gathered the liquid and placed it in what is now known as the Vile Vial. And he stored it away, so that no Pokémon would ever have to suffer like Ambipom did, and no man would ever try to use it to his advantage."
"Admirable."
"Of course, his attempt was in vain. And now, with the Vile Vial out there. And on top of that Calv-"
"Calv?"
"No, I've said too much already. Dagger probably won't like you knowing about the vial. Ask him if you're interested."
*
Bevan walked calmly through the halls of Knife Base 2. All around him, chaos was ensuing. Knife members were being knocked out, although many were fighting back. Sparks of lightning and bursts of fire met the roar of bullets. In some places, Pokémon fought Pokémon, particularly where the Cloaks were involved.
Bevan released the Pokéball in his hand. "Froscra," the emergent creature murmured. Froscra was an ice and psychic type, and deceptively powerful. It was white, furry, and ball-shaped, with a diameter of approximately two feet. Protruding from its back was a large, whip-like tail, spiked at the end. Its face consisted simply of three wide, glowing eyes in the form of a triangle, and a wide mouth consisting of innumerable sharp fangs.
A Knife member in the distance spotted this, and ordered his Quilava forward.
"Frostbite," ordered Bevan coldly.
Froscra released its mouth, sending a stream of black frost to surround the oncoming Quilava, enveloping it, and leaving it coated in a thick layer of ice.
"Flame wheel!"
"Psybeam," said Bevan, taking his eyes off the battle.
Quilava moved, cracking the ice with his heat, before being blasted backwards by Psybeam, left confused and attacking itself with its own flames.
The Knife member, with a look of shock on his face, reached for another Pokéball, but it was too late. Bevan simply pointed to the trainer. Once again, Froscra's eyes lit up, releasing a twisting beam of psychic energy, knocking the Knife member unconscious. Perfect for later capture.
This is too easy, thought Bevan arrogantly. After all, when you can predict someone's next move by flicking through their most recent thoughts, battle is no challenge.
He beckoned his Pokémon forward, ready to destroy this hideout.
*
An hour later, every enemy was either dead, unconscious, or, in the case of two, free. Bevan strode through the wreckage. He turned when he saw a door. He recognised it: it was the metallic door leading to the hackers' room. He looked around. Empty.
Empty of life, anyway. The large computer, that allowed supposedly untraceable connections to other Knife bases, stood in the room. It was logged on: evidently, the hackers had fled the room when they heard the storming boots of the military.
He fiddled around with a few of the button until he came to the communication application. On the screen, it offered to allow him to find a certain member. He input 'Dagger'. Suddenly, a large series of commands rushed through the screen, displaying numbers and letters (interestingly enough, only from A-F) that made no sense to him.
Eventually, a large screen popped up: he saw into the communications room of Knife Base 2 (not that he knew that was what it was, and even if he did, it would have been no use to him). The hacker at the other end looked up from the computer, and almost fell off his chair when he realised just who was at the other end.
"Ah, so you know who I am," said Bevan, hunched over the large control panel. "I was wondering whether Dagger might be available."
"Y-yes... a-a-alright."
The timid hacker rushed out of the room, screaming at the top of his lungs, "Dagger! It's Emerit!"
A few seconds later, the fully concealed, but ever so familiar body of Dagger walked into the room. He was calm, and a hint of reminiscence was evident in his eyes.
"Ah, Bevan. We've lost touch."
Bevan didn't smile. "Knife Base 9 has been captured."
"Yes, we've realised that for a while," said Dagger smugly. "We didn't send reinforcements, because, well... you made that impossible. I'm impressed. Rex would have been too arrogant to bring in the sheer numbers of the military."
At the mention of Rex, Bevan's face twitched ever so slightly, betraying a sliver of anger. Even three years later, Bevan had not fully purged himself of emotion.
"Why did you demand to speak with me, Bevan? You can't trace my location. It would take years to unravel the encryption sequence."
Bevan shrugged. "I'd guessed as much. Otherwise you would have disconnected. In any case, I've come to show you this." He lifted up a photograph. It was of a man, shackled and starved. He was pale: on the brink of death, but not quite there.
Dagger recoiled at seeing it.
"Ah, so the omniscient Dagger doesn't even know the whereabouts of his own father," cooed Bevan cruelly.
"Turn it off!" ordered Dagger. Dagger realised what he was trying to do: scare him. There was no bargain, no ransom, for the other side were cleverer than that. It was simply a mechanism of fear. Augury's usual, personal tactics.
"No!"
It was Charlotte's voice. This time, it was Bevan who recoiled, although only slightly. Charlotte walked tentatively into the vision of the camera.
"B-Bevan... what are you doing?"
"Leave the room," said Bevan, looking away from Charlotte. Dagger nodded, and motioned for the hackers to do the same. Dagger knew that Bevan still had an emotional connection with Charlotte, and he trusted Charlotte to exploit it. But that was not possible if there were others in the room.
Charlotte leaned into the monitor, her eyes watering. "Bevan... Look at you..."
Bevan stared at her, his mouth curling down at the edges. "I... I..."
"What, Bevan? You had no choice?"
Bevan glared at her. "As a matter of fact, I didn't, Charlotte. Augury caught me."
"So you survived. How many did you kill to ensure your life stayed in this world? How could you be so selfish?"
"Every action is selfish," said Bevan, annoyed.
"Sir -" a Cloak walked into the communication room at Bevan's end. Bevan waved him away. "Await my orders outside."
"'Every action is selfish'?" questioned Charlotte, angry. "Did Augury teach you that?"
Bevan looked away. "It doesn't matter who taught me. Even acts done to satisfy others are only done so chemicals are released in our brains to make the individual happy that he helped someone."
"I... I called you Bevan earlier. I was wrong. You're not the Bevan I knew. Perhaps I should call you what everyone else does: Emerit. You're more like your father than the boy I met three years ago. The Bevan I knew wouldn't try to reduce kindness to chemical formulas. He'd know who deserved it and who didn't. Now you... there's no person who receives any kindness or mercy from you."
Bevan breathed heavily. For so long, he had suppressed his emotion, and here was Charlotte, exposing it. And yet, she was like a drug. Even though he knew he should walk away, he maintained the line of communication.
"And how do you think that affects me, Charlotte? Do you know what it's like living as a monster?"
"Get out, then," Charlotte implored. Now, tears were streaming down her face.
"That's not possible. What I've become... there's no going back. I cannot feel anymore. The Bevan you knew is dead."
"You're feeling now! You don't even realise it, Bevan!"
"Perhaps, but this is a temporary phase, Charlotte. Temporary. When I walk out that door, the fire burning in my blood will extinguish! And I will kill. Again, and again, and again. I'm too deep. And even if I could escape the prison that I built, I'll never, never escape Augury's grasp." As he said this, his eyes prickled with passion. He took a deep breath. "If I break down my own cage, I'll simply fall into the spikes below."
"Then fall! I'd rather mourn your death than see you like this."
Bevan shook his head. "Nothing is worse than oblivion. This is an unfulfilled existence, but an existence nonetheless."
Charlotte shook her head. "For three years, I've been hoping that you had a modicum of humanity left in you. A shred of decency. I've been lying to myself." With that, Charlotte ran out of the room.
Tears of rage streaming down his face, Bevan mashed the escape button, closing the window.
*
"But... that doesn't explain why Calvin Shore was kept alive," said Cicero. He had just been told of the role of Calvin Shore played in securing the money. And the vial. Dagger had agreed, albeit reluctantly, to tell Cicero the whole story. After all, Cicero already possessed a great deal of secrets. One more couldn't hurt.
"No, it doesn't," said Dagger. "Astonishing how many people don't pick up on this fact. If anything, it gives incentive for Augury to end Shore's life."
"What haven't you told me? What use is Calvin Shore to Augury?"
"He's Liam's father."