The Ol’ Razzle Dazzle

Salute glared at the cobbles of the street where it forked into two separate roads. The familiar trail of blood that stained it seemed to darken by the minute, gaining the shade of rust as it did. And right at that split in the street, it abruptly ended. The rest of the road was absolutely spotless.

It didn’t make any sense. This. Didn’t. Make. Sense. The trail went left. He had followed it to the left! It had continued down that path for over a minute’s worth of running! How in the world could it all be gone?!

The Zweilous stomped the remaining part of the trail in frustration, as if it would bend to his anger. The stupid stain was dry enough that it barely got on his foot at all.

He needed to focus. The thief was already gone, and there wasn’t much he could do at this point other than deliver Zazel’s message. Burying his feelings as best as he could, Salute trudged onwards down the right path. In no time at all, he found Pyrite, the Lycanroc leaning against the wall of one of the many townhouses.

Salute moved to greet his co-worker, but abruptly stopped, mouth agape. Reflexively, he opened and closed it several times in discomfort. To an outsider, it probably looked like he got a hair in it or something. Bleh. Why in the world does it-

“Hey, Salute,” Pyrite weakly called, snapping him out of it. “I’m guessing you lost them?”

“Yeah,” Salute sighed after a moment. “I don’t know what happened! They just vanished! And now the blood trail’s all wrong, too!”

“Seriously?” Pyrite lugged himself over close enough to see the fork, his lethargy quite relatable to his co-worker. “Oh, shoot, I think I know what that was.”

Salute leaned in close, holding his breath with rapt attention.

“Neither of you showed up,” Pyrite continued.  “So, I came back here to see if I’d missed something. While I was waiting, I heard a guy come out of his house for something. He stayed out for a good while, but I didn’t see exactly what he did. I should’ve checked, I guess. But if I were to bet, I’d say he probably cleaned it up.”

“Aughhhhh….” Salute groaned, hunching over. “You’ve gotta be kidding. That was important evidence! He should get fined for tampering with a crime scene.”

“Yeah, but you know how some of these homeowners can get. Hey, maybe you can get him for it tomorrow?”

Salute looked down to the ground with a grimace. “It’ll be too late, then. I’ll be out of the Guard after today.”

“Huh? Because of one escaped thief?”

“I was already on thin ice. The Chief said if something else happened, then I’d be out. And something else happened. I failed.”

“No, I failed.”

Salute looked up at Pyrite in confusion.

“Don’t you remember, man? I’m technically your superior officer today. So, you can just blame everything on me. Say I gave you all the wrong orders and stuff. Hiketeria will get it. You’ll be off the hook.”

“But that’s not right! I was the one who lost them at the end!”

Pyrite gave one of his grins. “Chain of command, man! If I didn’t tell you the right thing to do when I could, it’s on me. Perfectly orderly, should be right up your alley.”

Salute furrowed his brows. He was right, that should be justice. Why wasn’t it? He searched for the right words to settle his internal debate. “It… it just….”

“What, doesn’t it feel orderly?”

“It doesn’t feel honorable.” Somehow, that suddenly made a lot of things fall into place for the dragon. “We were on this mission together. Blaming all the failures on you when we both were trying to catch the thief isn’t what I do. I’ll tell Chief Hiketeria exactly what she needs to know: that I couldn’t do it either.”

Pyrite shrugged, the grin still on his face. “Well, if nothing else, I’ll put in a good word for you. Last thing I wanna do is screw over our resident ‘defender of justice.’”

Salute wasn’t sure how much sway Pyrite’s word would have with the Chief, but he still smiled a bit at the thought.

Wait, talking to the Chief!

“That’s right!” Salute gasped. “I saw Zazel!”

“You did?”

“Yeah, that’s why I was gone for so long!” Salute drummed his claws on the ground in thought. “He checked back at his house first, then said he’d be gone for a couple hours to talk to the Chief about the situation. Apparently, his ‘most valuable possession’ was still down there.”

“Whoa, seriously?” Pyrite brought a paw to his forehead. “Where was it?”

“In one of the mannequins, I think. He checked them out first thing.”

Pyrite beamed. “This is perfect, man! You’re totally saved!”

“Huh? Why?”

“You chased the thief out of the basement, remember? That means you kept Zazel’s junk safe! Hiketeria’s gotta keep you on for that!”

Hey, he was right! Even if it wasn’t perfect, they’d managed to keep things from getting a lot worse! Maybe Salute could still be a guard after all!

“Alright!” Pyrite cracked his neck. “You know what we’ve gotta do now!”

Salute gave a look to indicate that he, in fact, did not know what they needed to do now.

“Everything goes out the window if the thief strikes again, man!” Pyrite continued. “We need to get back to Zazel’s house.”

Salute sprung to action. “You’re right! They could even be plotting as we speak!” He dashed off, stopping for just a moment to call back to his co-worker. “C’mon! We need to protect justice!”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Pyrite laughed as the two ran back together.

---

The good news just kept on coming. All it took was a cursory check of the house to confirm that the thief hadn’t returned. The kitchen window was still unlocked, looking to be an error caused due to age. But Zazel was a smart man. When Salute had seen him earlier, the Eelektross had attached a strip of paper to the inside of the window. Were it to be opened, the paper would rip, leaving no way to enter without leaving evidence.

Salute breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, we’re still good. Let’s do this like before. You watch half, I watch half.”

“Actually,” Pyrite disagreed. “I’ve got a better idea.” He pointed through the front window at the bookshelf concealing the basement. “They’ve gotta go through there no matter what, right? So, only one of us needs to watch. I can keep track of this, no problem.”

“What? Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Well…” Pyrite shrugged. “Maybe they left some sorta clue behind. You could try checking out the places we chased them through.”

“Hmm.” Salute thought back to the path they’d taken through the town. There was a spot or two worth inspecting. He just… wasn’t exactly the investigative type.

Pyrite continued. “Vigilance, right? You might even be able to catch them if you’re lucky enough!” 

Huh, there it was again. The most vigilant thing to do would be to go stop the thief before they could sow any more discord. Why did ditching Pyrite feel so wrong now? Salute bored holes into the ground as he thought. 

Oh, right… Salute would have to go back to the restaurant whose door he broke. That guy was pretty mad about it, and it would be an injustice to leave something like that unresolved. But it wouldn’t be fun. That was why he didn’t want to leave Pyrite. Definitely.

“Alright, I’m going,” Salute sighed. As he left, he turned back to Pyrite. “But be careful. Weird stuff’s been happening ever since we saw that thief.”

“C’mon!” Pyrite pointed to himself with a grin. “It’s me! When have I ever not been careful?”

“Your entire life,” Salute said flatly.

“What? Even today? I’ve been on my A game this whole time!”

Salute shook his heads. “You dumped a wooden beam on me without warning! And shoved me through a table back in the alley!” Even at his best, Pyrite was haphazard and spontaneous. “…But I won’t lie, you’re a lot better than you look.”

“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment.” Pyrite waved Salute off. “Good luck, man.”

“Justice,” Salute announced as he leapt down to the street, landing on his claws to allow for it to end in a short slide. “Doesn’t need luck.” And then he sprinted away, leaving a fresh set of marks in the cobbles in the process.

Truth was, even at his best, Salute was pretty haphazard and spontaneous, too.

---

“…You’ll be reimbursed in full. Sorry for the trouble.” Salute bowed apologetically to the Watchog running the restaurant. He’d completely broken the door’s hinges beyond repair. Keeping the cool air and smell of the alley out of the store was so important for business that the Watchog had already rushed a replacement, but that kind of speed had a cost. A cost that was coming out of a certain Zweilous’s funds. 

Salute checked his wallet afterwards and frowned. It would be a serious problem if he were to lose his job now. He was really regretting living in a two bedroom home, but he hadn’t wanted to find another after his would-be roommate bailed on him. What an injustice….

But none of that mattered right now! For the rest of today, at least, Salute could fight for the good of the people! He struck a dramatic, inspirational pose, likely looking well off his rocker to any passerby’s in the plaza he’d returned to.

…Not that there were that many. The plaza, which had been packed during the chase, was now mostly empty in the early evening’s fading light. The obstacles Salute had to avoid during the commotion were all packed up and taken home. The marketplace was probably shutting down by now as well. That left both areas free from interference, and devoid of any evidence. Too much had been put away for anything to point back to the thief.

The alleys fared a bit better, still having all the junk furniture splintered around inside. Not to mention that Sandile’s fort. It even seemed like they were still hanging out inside. Salute had to find some way to repay them for their help before, even if he wasn’t sure how yet. He supposed that unlike the restaurant’s door, this wasn’t really an obligation, but he was certain it was the just thing to do.

He’d have to think about it later. He still had one more area left to sweep, and it was the one he was looking forward to the least.

---

Coming back to the final stretch where Salute had nailed the thief with his Dragon Rage brought back bad memories. All because of that blood trail. It all came back to that in the end. He kept everything inside. And even though he tried, it all fell apart. He tried so hard, and got so far.

In the end, it didn’t even matter.

…Salute decided to avoid looking at that for the moment. Instead, he thought it would be more useful to check the streets out from a different vantage point.

It took some work to find a building with roof access, and even more to convince the owner to let him up. Not to mention the small problem that it was two streets off from where he needed to look. Luckily for Salute though, even if he wasn’t fully evolved, he was still a dragon.

Atop the building, Salute took a deep breath, and leaped, spreading his thin wings as wide as they could go. He didn’t have any time to enjoy the feeling of the wind on his faces, because all his focus had to go to how he angled himself, gaining as much lift as he possibly could. It was just enough to allow him to glide on over to the neighboring road’s set of buildings. He had to take great care to keep the roof’s tiles intact, landing as gently as he could with his front legs, and his back—

—flailed wildly as they failed to make contact with any sort of ground. Salute immediately began to slip off the side, only having enough time to twist his whole body in a panic, slamming his feet against the edge but sending the rest of himself tumbling fully onto the roof. Drawing himself back up with a groan and some fresh bruises, Salute checked the tiles, which were miraculously undamaged. Nailed it.

A couple repetitions of that got Salute to the site of the crime. Well, one of many, really. Resisting arrest kinda turned the entire chase route into one big crime scene. And like the others, this one had little more to tell him. Some strands of fur were littered here and there, sure, but he already knew what color the thief was. There wasn’t anything on the track that would lead to their capture. Heck, there wasn’t even anything that evidenced that there was a chase here!

Wait… but there should’ve been. That mess of boxes and barrels that fell from before. They would have crushed Salute, but he was enough of a champion to avoid them. All it took was outrunning gravity. Easy for one as righteous as he. But now the proof of his achievement was gone. What, did someone clean those up, too? They were piled nearly 10 feet high. Clearing all of that out would’ve taken as long as it took Salute and Pyrite to haul all that construction stuff.

Seriously, something was wrong with all of this. Practically every single event since the chase had begun had been tinged with some sort of oddity. Salute needed to get back to Zazel’s. Either to vent to Pyrite or just to make sure he hadn’t been claimed by whatever irregularity had taken over their lives. 

To spite the haters, Salute made his way back to the clearing by rooftop. There were a baker’s dozen close calls, but he made it back without embarrassment. It brightened his mood a good bit, and he was looking forward to seeing how Pyrite had fared in his absence.

…What.

Peering over to Zazel’s house left Salute with an unwelcome sight. He forgot all about his insistence on tile safety and dug his claws into the roof, snapping the tiles he was standing on into pieces. He had to clench his jaws as tight as possible to keep himself from snarling or even roaring. Staying quiet at this moment was the most difficult thing he’d ever done.

Pyrite was just standing there, all laid-back in his usual way, facing the road. The road! He wasn’t monitoring the bookshelf like he said he would at all! What kind of lazy moron would look the opposite way like that?! The thief could break in at any time and he’d be none the wiser! They already knew that whoever this thief was, they were skilled! Why in the world would he not even look for them?! As it was, he was keeping track of whether Zazel was back better than he was the thief!

Salute shivered, having a revelation intense enough to nearly knock him off his feet. The evening suddenly felt like it had a bit of a chill to it. He ducked back to the concealment of the building’s top. Shuffling as far from the clearing as he could, he braced himself against the lip of the roof. This would be a delicate process. Holding his breath, Salute dropped down, using his wings to soften his landing as much as possible. The touchdown was barely louder than a single footstep, but it still made Salute wince. 

The Zweilous darted around, taking a wide path to the back alleys on the opposite side of Pyrite. He snuck on through, hardly even breathing the whole time. He dashed across the empty street as inconspicuously as he could, hugging the wall as he approached a familiar window.

Using utmost caution, Salute lifted the window open. For all his faults, he managed to do it silently, even if the process turned out to be a slow and steady one. Squeezing into the kitchen was even more difficult, as he had to lift different parts of his body up and over the windowsill methodically. To just slide on through would be too big a risk. 

A tiny clang boomed in Salute’s ears. Nearly losing it all, his right head lunged out by divine inspiration and snapped its jaws, managing to chomp onto a cast iron handle moments before disaster. The pain of biting down so hard on solid metal was immediately forgotten when Salute realized what he’d just caught. In his mouth, just centimeters from a noisy collision with the ground, was the pot that had been on the stove. 

He managed to get in the rest of the way, heart pounding, panting without a sound. Is this what criminals feel like? This is terrible! He didn’t bother to close the window. Too risky. Glancing around to the living room allowed him to relax as he saw that through the window, Pyrite was still looking out the wrong way.

Salute snuck out, finally getting to the bookshelf. Slowly, and more likely than not detrimental to the floor, he pushed it just enough that he could slip into the basement. Then, most importantly, he moved the shelf back, sealing himself inside. It left the passage shrouded in darkness, but that was fine. He was a Zweilous. His four eyes could use even the slightest bit of light to see, and he’d had years of practice as a Deino navigating completely blind.

He wasn’t able to stop the creaking of the steps. That would take a miracle-worker. But he already had everything right where he needed it to be.

“Hey,” Salute called out once he reached the bottom. A cursory glance revealed that all of the mannequins had been ransacked. One of them even was even missing its suit. “I know you’re in here,” he continued. “The entrance is shut. You have nowhere to run. Now come quietly, and face-”

“Salute!” Pyrite called.

Salute whirled around on the bottom step and had to crane his heads up. At the very top of the staircase, a Lycanroc was standing, having completely moved the bookshelf. Wasn’t quiet enough. Wasn’t good enough. 

“Pyrite,” Salute growled. “I thought you were keeping watch.”

“The thief just ran by me, man! We’ve gotta go after them right now! I saw where they went, we can save this!” Pyrite eagerly pointed back up to the living room.

“You do it.” 

“What?” Pyrite started to come down the steps. “What’s wrong with you, man? We’re losing time! They’ll get away if we don’t go now!”

Salute lowered his heads into an aggressive stance. “You do it. Since you were so diligent when watching the house.”

Pyrite stopped. The evening light framed his body, spilling into the stairway and clashing against the shadows that backed Salute. It was almost poetic. The only problem was that it was backwards. Just like this whole damn day.

“C’mon, man,” Pyrite groaned. “Is that really what this is about? I was taking a break. I knew the thief wasn’t inside. Besides, I saw them anyway. Stop being stubborn and let’s go, already!”

“I’m right where I need to be.” Salute dug his claws into the wood.

Pyrite took another step down. “Come on. We’re going. This is stupid, Salute.”

“No, what’s stupid is listening to you! I’m not making that mistake again.”

Pyrite’s eyes narrowed into the beginnings of a glare. “Low blow. What’s with you? What happened to ‘you’re better than you look?’ Now you suddenly think I’ll lead you astray?”

“You already have. I’m an idiot for not noticing it earlier.”

Pyrite’s body tensed, near imperceptibly, and he came down another step. “What? What are you talking about? You’re being annoying, Salute.”

“You told me to go down the left path. And to leave watching the house to you. And until we saw blood, you were about to try and convince me the thief was just my imagination. Arceus, you even wanted to not check out the house when we first heard the crash! Every time. Every time you tell me to do something, whether I listen or not, it turns out to be wrong.”

Pyrite took another step, clenching one paw into a fist, and using the other to gesture wildly. “Alright, so I messed up. There, you happy? I make mistakes, Salute! Now you’re trying to say that because of that, I’m some kind of screw-up you shouldn’t listen to? Dick move, man. Now get out of the basement!”

“I only listen,” Salute spoke in a low tone. “To those on the side of justice.”

“What, you think this is justice?!” Pyrite slammed a foot another step down. He was just 5 away, now. “Screwing over your co-worker because he wasn’t good enough for you? Are you insane? Is everybody who messes up enough suddenly a criminal to you?!”

“You used U-turn.”

“Huh?”

“Back during the chase. When you freaked out because I hit the thief. That green flash, a buzz, and a bounce backwards. You used U-turn.”

Pyrite rolled his eyes. “So what? Your blast exploded right in front of me! I panicked. If anything, you should-”

Salute didn’t let him finish, baring his fangs. “Lycranrocs can’t learn U-turn.”

Pyrite’s eyes widened for a moment, before narrowing back. “That’s dumb! Those move lists are more of rough guidelines than anything. Lots of folks have learned moves they aren’t ‘supposed’ to learn! I’m just extra disciplined. You should be drooling all over me.”

Salute ignored his rambling. “You were covered in blood.”

That struck a nerve with Pyrite. “What?!”

“When I saw you just earlier, at the fork. You had blood on you.”

Pyrite’s breathing became rougher. “No. I. Didn’t. You’re delusional. There wasn’t a drop on me! How would there have been? You didn’t see anything.”

“I know what I sensed.”

“Sensed?! What does that even mean?! What, did you hear it? Or wait, you smelled it! Well tough luck, because I know you didn’t do either, and you didn’t touch me, so don’t even try to pull that. Stop making shit up, Salute, and go do your job!”

“I am. I’m protecting justice.”

“Salute,” Pyrite growled. “I am your superior officer. I am ordering you to get out of the god damn basement.”

“Make me.”

“Don’t do this, you moron. Or you’ll lose your precious job for real.”

“A job means nothing compared to justice.”

Pyrite began to stomp down the steps. “If you use that stupid word one more time then I’m going to-”

An indigo flame burst out from Salute’s mouth, far too fast for Pyrite to react to when he was so close. It collided with his chest, exploding just like before and sending the Lycanroc’s body reeling back.

—for about a quarter of a second, before Pyrite suddenly stopped, as if his very being had been paused. His body froze in place, half falling over with an expression of shock. It simply lingered there, while a dark figure stumbled backwards out of it. “Pyrite” then slowly began to smear and fade, like chalk being washed off a sidewalk, leaving only the one behind left.

His fur was dark gray, with jet black tufts and blood red claws. A face more narrow and pointed than the one before stared back with wide, teal eyes. And atop that head was a mane far greater than the one he’d had previously, colored in the same sanguine hues as his claws, and accented with that same pitch black, all held together in a loose tail by a large bead.

“I knew it,” Salute growled. “You’re not a Lycanroc at all. You’re a Zoroark.”

Pyrite scoffed and averted his face for a moment. Now that the illusion was gone, it was easy to see the amount of dried blood that stained his paws. The moment passed, culminating in Pyrite composing himself and glaring back at Salute.

“Yeah, well, you got me,” he said. “You figured the whole thing out and found your thief. It was me all along. There. Case freaking closed. Good job.”

Salute shuffled in place for a moment, a bit proud of himself, but also thoroughly uncomfortable.

“Hey, so you know what happens now?” Pyrite said casually.

“Not really, I don’t usually-”

Salute’s whole body was rocked by Pyrite tackling him down the stairs. He thrashed as the two of them tumbled around, clawing and bruising each other while Salute was struggling to even make sense of the situation. At the last moment, while rolling onto his back, Salute kicked out with all 4 of his legs, forcing Pyrite off. The Zoroark immediately made use of the momentum, jumping away onto the top of a piece of tarped furniture.

Getting back to an active position, Salute saw that he’d been forced down into the clutter of Zazel’s keepsakes. A veritable forest of junk surrounded him on all sides in a rough bowl, though the center of it all wasn’t much more navigable than anywhere else. It was a bad spot for someone without a lot of dexterity to fight.

Salute ignored his disadvantage, and prepared Dragon Rages in both of his maws. He aimed up at Pyrite, only for the Zoroark to whistle of all things. It was a strange, almost bird-like call, starting low and quickly flitting up to a high chirp, which he repeated three times in rapid succession.

Not to be distracted, Salute launched his attack. Pyrite easily hopped to another case, the indigo fireball flying past him and noisily colliding with something in the background. The Zweilous shot a second, which was dodged just as easily. Alternating between heads, Salute continuously fired blast after blast, but it meant nothing to Pyrite, who continued repeating that same whistle the entire time, the sound cutting through each and every explosion and crash.

“God damn it….” Pyrite muttered after finishing his last call, perched up on his high ground. He was far more frustrated than someone who’d been easily avoiding taking a single hit should be.

Pyrite pointed down at the dragon. “You should have stayed out of this, Salute!” He had to dodge yet another ineffective Dragon Rage, the loud burst of it forcing him to pause. “I would’ve done my thing, told Hiketeria that none of this was your fault, and we both could’ve just gone about on our ways. Everything would’ve been just fine!”

“But that wouldn’t be justice!” Salute cried out, smashing his head into the case Pyrite was atop, sending it flying to a crunchy demise. He turned around, to see that the Zoroark had easily jumped ship to another behind him.

“I’m sick of justice!” Pyrite yelled. “It’s never done a damn thing for me, not here! So you know what? I’m making my own!” Then he performed one last whistle, a trill that slowly bent downwards into oblivion. He brought his stained paw up, then slammed it down into the case.

A sudden wave of visual noise flooded the entire room from where Pyrite had hit. It washed over all in tones of black and white, taking over everything in sight in mere seconds. Salute flinched and averted his faces as the rippling force approached, only to feel no impact.

“What…?” Salute mumbled, looking back to find everything different.

The entire basement had been blanketed in monochrome colors. Pure white and jet black, as far as the eye could see. No grays, just black and white. It was checkered, and stripped, and spiraled, and dotted, and gridded, and bulged, and squished, and bent, and wrong. Every pattern conceivable was splattered around chaotically, flowing around the room in black and white.

Black and white, as far as the eye could see. Black and white. Black. And white.

Black.

White.

Though the layout of the room was unchanged, the new coat of paint it had been given removed any sense of scale or place. Objects blended into one another, and all of them felt like they were moving and none in the same direction. Salute felt sick just looking at it, and as he stumbled around, he found that it didn’t make a sound. He desperately looked up at Pyrite, standing atop a spire of swirling stripes.

“Welcome to my world,” Pyrite said, before the color faded from his fur, the patterns filled his body, and he leaped off into the madness.

Salute staggered towards him, tripping over and kicking camouflaged obstacles silently, the only sound being his own breathing. The absence of audial feedback was impossibly disorientating: his sight was being overloaded, but his hearing was being entirely deprived. He lost track of Pyrite’s form instantly. It was just more static.

Salute launched a Dragon Rage at Pyrite’s last location. The moment it left his mouth, it turned black and white. When it collided with something checkered and gridded, then it did so noiselessly. Where was Pyrite? Where even was Salute? Even moving a few feet left him hopelessly lost.

An impact slammed into Salute’s side, only sounding as a dull thud even as he was sent flying. A prickling, squirming pain welcomed him where he was hit, the tell-tale sign a Bug-Type attack. It felt like being covered in hundreds of small bites and was amplified by Salute’s own disadvantageous typing.

Salute managed to focus through the pain enough to look back, seeing the nebulous form of Pyrite bounce away to his right. Dammit, he’s using U-turn!

The Zweilous landed on his feet, and strained his eyes to keep track of Pyrite through the rest of the shifting world around him. Even with all 4 of his eyes working overtime, he could barely follow at all. His movements didn’t make any sense! He was going left, but it looked like he was going right. Or wait, it was the other way around? Salute had to split his heads in both directions just to cover both possibilities.

Then he had to bring them both back in, because Pyrite wasn’t going left or right, he was coming straight forward! Salute charged in to meet him with a Headbutt, only for Pyrite’s dash to seemingly slide just to the side of his attack. The Zweilous changed gears, and used his other head to continue the Headbutt, only for it to miss entirely; Pyrite wasn’t nearly as close as he looked.

Salute’s swinging heads got just a glimpse of Pyrite as he bounced up for another U-turn. The dragon dug his claws into the ground, closed his eyes, and braced himself through the impact and its bass-y sound, even as the horrid, crawling pain spread across his other side, leaving both feeling infested with some sort of invisible swarm. Opening his eyes didn’t help, as it only gave him sight of a chaotic, messy form disappearing into a chaotic, messy world.

The dragon charged after, firing Dragon Rages as rapidly as he could before tripping and falling over something plaid. Not a single attack hit. All seemed to be wildly off, and now Salute was on the floor. Recognizing his vulnerability, he whirled his heads around, finding Pyrite in midair, coming in for another attack from behind. He launched two more Dragon Rages simultaneously at the Zoroark’s falling form. One of them had to hit, right?

Evidently not, as Pyrite came down upon the Zweilous, both fireballs barely missing. The blow to his back left his whole body feeling numb, but Salute didn’t give up, attempting to bite and smash Pyrite with his heads during the attack. Everything missed, but the Zoroark bounced away, giving Salute just enough time to get back to his feet. He moved to pursue Pyrite, but managed to stop himself. This wasn’t working. He needed to strategize.

Salute couldn’t move. Doing anything of the sort wouldn’t help him here. The arena was too perfectly suited to Pyrite, who was far too acrobatic to make a mistake. He needed to beat Pyrite by turning the tables on him; to counter one of his attacks. That was his only shot.

He took a deep breath, concentrating as much as he could. He drew on all of his combat memories, from his bloody, instinctual beginnings surviving as a child, to the formal training Hiketeria had given that had refined him, and all the scuffles he’d had along the way to prove himself. Salute had been fighting all his life. It was as familiar to him as walking or eating, and as he reflected on that, he felt power well up inside of him. Focus Energy. With this, just one hit was all it would take.

Pyrite didn’t wait for Salute. Again and again, he smashed into the dragon from every direction, shoving his body with a deep rumble every time and resetting Salute’s tracking. The eye strain and migraine from trying to watch the visual mess was starting to get to him. He just needed to land an attack once, but—Pyrite hit him again—everything was just too crazy! No matter where or how he looked, Pyrite managed to move in a way that he lost him!

But wait… this is all an illusion, just like before!

Salute shut his eyes once more, and let his mouths hang open. He honestly would look pretty stupid to an outsider, seemingly standing dumbfounded as he was worn down by attack after attack. But Salute knew something. A vital truth of the world.

Justice wasn’t something you saw. Justice wasn’t something you heard. It wasn’t something you smelled, or even something you felt.

Justice was something you tasted.

10 o’ Clock. A small disturbance in the dust motes danced across Salutes tongues, left head first, then the right. A familiar scent laced with dried blood rapidly grew stronger and stronger, invisible to his nose, but clear as day to his palate. Timing would be something of a guess, he could be off by half a second. But if he truly was just….

Salute tensed up, stepping back with a leg and lowering his heads, the movement like the sudden activation of an infallible machine. Taking a chance, he waited an extra half second before rearing back, exploding back, swinging both heads up with reckless abandon in a massive arc.

He felt the impact before he was even halfway through, skulls colliding with Pyrite’s chest. Salute’s eyes snapped open into a wild glare as he threw the Zoroark with as much power as he could, slamming his poor co-worker into a shifting wall of madness just feet away from him. The whole world reacted, all of the black in the patterns rippling and twitching as their master was injured.

Salute wasn’t about to let his momentum go, a head jamming into his bag as he rocketed towards Pyrite, snapping and tearing through unknown objects the whole way. Just as the Zoroark was beginning to recover, Salute skid to a stop right in front of him, brought out a seed in his teeth, crushed it, and then blew the resulting fine powder right in Pyrite’s face.

Pyrite coughed and waved the cloud away from him, his form suddenly returning to its original colors.

“No, wait…!” he yelled as he stumbled forward off the wall, weakly swinging at Salute with a claw. “I can’t…! I won’t…!” He lethargically tried to form some sort of Dark-Type attack, only for it to harmlessly dissipate as his eyelids drooped.

“You… spat in my face… you asshole….” Pyrite mumbled before falling to the ground, fast asleep.

Sleep Seeds were a useful thing. Perfect for apprehending criminals.

The world faded back into order, the black half first, then the white a moment later, returning Salute to the basement in all of its dim glory. The two had wound up much further in than he’d expected, and thanks to their combat, most of Zazel’s keepsakes in the area were ruined. Whoops.

But now wasn’t the time for guilt, not for Salute, anyway. Leaving Pyrite where he was, the dragon dashed off, hoping to justice that he was right about which way he was facing.

Thanks to a miracle, Salute burst out back to the stairs, not even wasting a moment before chomping down on something right in front of him. Luckily, it turned out to be the scruff of a fleeing criminal’s neck, and he immediately hoisted them up into the air as they flailed around.

Pyrite wanted Salute to believe that he was the thief, but it was clear by how his world had disappeared what the real situation was. That wasn’t just one person’s illusion. There was still another thief, and now Salute could finally get a good look at them.

It was a Zorua, albeit one that looked quite different than what Pyrite would have been in his youth. This one was a far lighter gray, almost white, with wispy fur that seemed to float off of them as it turned red, like it had been dipped in blood. Their ears ended in a way that almost made them look torn, and their amber eyes were able to burn with malice.

“L-lemme go!” she cried, attempting to claw back at Salute’s face. “You frickin’ dirtbag! I’ll kill you if you don’t quit it!”

Salute just brought them away from the rest of his body while turning them towards his other head for a more thorough look-over. They had a pendant hanging from their neck, looking a bit comically oversized for them. It was a simple, black disk, looking to be made from onyx. This must have been what they stole. Carefully using his other head and ignoring the shadows coalescing into living shapes all around him, Salute lifted the pendant off of them, though it made them thrash like crazy, even getting in a few good scratches to his neck.

“Hey! Give that back, it’s mine!” she yelled, desperately pawing for her treasure as all the looming shadows were abruptly torn apart. “I need it!”

It was strange. Though nice, it didn’t look all that special, although it did have a series of strange, boxy grooves circling all around it. Was it really that important?  He stowed it in his bag.

“I swear, when I get down I’m gonna—!”

“What’s your name?” Salute asked out of nowhere.

The Zorua paused for a moment, taken aback. She even stopped her struggling for the time, hanging a forepaw in the air confusedly. It was bandaged, and the wound underneath seemed serious, as it was bleeding through. On both sides.

That’s probably why Pyrite was covered in blood. Salute thought. I bet he bandaged her up, but it must’ve been messy. She got skewered all the way through….

“W-what’s it to you?!” the Zorua continued. “You’re just a freakin’ pawn, mindlessly obeying your orders! If I wasn’t—” She grunted, straining against Salute’s grip. “—frickin’ stuck right now, I’d totally lay into you, you dumbass!”

Salute stared at his captive for a moment, slowly blinking. Somehow, her anger sapped him of his own. Definitely strange. Usually apprehending criminals made him feel a lot better than this.

“It’s Albata, okay?!” the Zorua growled. “Now put me down!”

“I can’t,” Salute spoke. “You committed a crime. An injustice. You’ll need to be taken in.”

Salute brought Albata up the stairs, despite her protests the whole way. As he returned to the living room, he suddenly remembered something important about why he was here.

“How old are you?” Salute asked. He couldn’t just arrest a child again. Hiketeria would definitely fire him if he did.

“What’s with the stupid questions?!”

“Are you a kid?”

“No!” Albata bared her fangs as menacingly as she could. “I’m nearly seventeen! I’m basically an adult!”

Huh… that was tricky. Eleven was too young to incarcerate, but was seventeen? It wasn’t like kids at that age were above the law. Juvenile detention existed for a reason, right? But then again….

“…I think I’d better take you to see the Chief. She’ll know what to do.”

“I don’t wanna see your stupid Chief! I have to get back down there!”

Salute paused, remembering something else important about why he was here.

“Where’s the other item you stole?” he asked.

“I don’t have it!” Albata fought against Salute’s grip, clearly trying to flee back towards the basement, as useless an action as it would be. “Y-you lied! You told Pyrite it was in a mannequin! How could you?!”

Salute’s eyes narrowed into a skeptical scowl as he brought Albata out the front door. “It was. And I’m not letting you steal anymore.”

“But I need it! It’s still down there, and I need to find it! It’s supposed to—”

“Would you happen to be looking for this?”

Both Salute and Albata jumped, turning to find Zazel standing there with a massive, almost familiar grin on his face. In one of his hands, held to dangle right in front of Albata’s face, was a pendant of pure white, the same size as the black one and made of a series of squares in a circular, spiraling pattern.

“Ah…!” Albata cried out, desperately reaching for the pendant. “Y-you! Give it!”

The Eelektross practically giggled as he flicked the pendant back into a closed palm. He opened his hand back up showily, revealing that the pendant had vanished. “I took the liberty of keeping it on my personage when I left. It pays to be safe, after all!”

Albata’s eyes flared, and darkness began to rise all around her, breaking apart before it could manage to take any sort of shape.

“You awful, lying, soulless, insufferable—!” she growled.

“Ah, Salute, was it?” Zazel spoke jovially. “Could you be a dear and put her under for a moment? Zorua of that color are known to have quite dreadful illusions.”

“O-oh, right,” Salute stuttered as he brought out another Sleep Seed from his bag. This was all a bit unexpected for him.

“No, wait!” Albata pleaded, attempting not to fight Salute but to grab him. “Just take me to the Chief! Let’s just go!”

Salute paused for a moment, feeling more than a little conflicted. Capturing criminals wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Maybe he should—

“Salute? Any day, now.” Zazel tapped a flipper impatiently.

“Right….” Salute mumbled through his teeth, crushing the seed and blowing it at Albata.

The Zorua desperately fought against the oncoming drowsiness, gnawing on her own lip to try and jolt herself back awake. It was no use, even as she bit herself hard enough to draw blood. She quickly lost the battle and slumped in his hold.

“…Sorry.” Salute felt the need to tell her that as she drifted off.

“Finally!” Zazel gave an excited sigh. “Now then, I believe it would be best if I were the one to take her in.”

Salute cocked the head holding Albata’s unconscious body. “What? But why?”

“Well, she’s only sixteen after all, and I’d hate to see Ms. Hiketeria blame you if that’s seen as too young for punishment. All that can be avoided if the aggrieved party is the one to take her in. Not only that, but I believe there’s a certain Lycanroc you’ll be needing to take in yourself.”

“Actually, he’s a—” Salute stopped himself. It probably wasn’t worth it to explain. “Alright, I guess so.” The logic seemed sound, at least. Between the two, Pyrite would be a lot more difficult to bring in. Plus, that was between guards.

“Splendid!” Zazel cheered, bouncing up and sparking in several different hues with a raised arm. Salute’s eyes were drawn to the electric spectacle and the flashiness of it. He must’ve trained forever to get it to be yellow, blue, and white all at the same time!

The dragon suddenly worked his jaws, feeling both empty. In a panic, he snapped his heads around every which way, only to spot Albata’s sleeping form under Zazel’s other arm. How did he—?

“Now, that should be everything taken care of,” Zazel chuckled. “Enjoy the undoubtably satisfying reward of bringing that mutt to justice. Ah, one more thing, actually.”

Salute didn’t even get a chance to speak before Zazel circled around him, snapping with his free hand. Salute attempted to turn to follow but wasn’t quick enough. When he whirled around enough to find Zazel back where he had started, he saw that now the Eelektross had the black pendant with him. Wait, but that was in my bag!

“It wouldn’t do for a guard to be caught stealing from a citizen, now, would it?” Zazel chided with a smirk.

“That’s not what that was!” Salute protested. “I was going to put it back!”

“And now it’s back with its rightful owner. I have a lot to do, so I’ll be on my way. Ta-ta!” And with that, Zazel slipped away.

Huh. Well that was odd. But Salute did have something more important to worry about. Zazel could handle taking an unconscious Zorua to the Chief just fine. The dragon looked back to the entrance to the basement, feeling the need to mentally prepare himself for what was about to come next.

---

Pyrite groaned, slowly shaking his head, the massive mane of red hair following the motion. He attempted to bring a paw to his chest to soothe the ache he was feeling, but found it was unable to move. He turned to half-heartedly investigate the oddity, still groggy enough to believe his arm was just asleep.

“Oh. Right.” Pyrite sighed as he saw both arms bound behind his back. Blinking a few times to focus his sight finally allowed him to notice Salute, sitting right across from him.

“What? No ‘good morning?’” Pyrite quipped. “You’re real rude to your co-workers.”

“It isn’t morning. It’s night.” Salute paused, victorious in the argument, before remembering. “Also, you’re a criminal.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The Zoroark looked around the basement for a moment. “Thought you would’ve thrown me in a cell. But whatever, you caught me.”

“And your accomplice.”

Pyrite flinched, before giving a pained sigh. “So I wasn’t able to convince you it was just me, huh? I was really hoping that would work on you, even if it was a total last-ditch effort.”

“I fight for justice; such tricks would never work on me. She’s been taken to the Chief.”

“Damn it all….” Pyrite strained his restraints, instinctually attempting to facepalm.

“…Who is she, anyway?”

Pyrite gave a weak glare to Salute. “My sister. About 6 years younger.”

A cold pause passed between the two.

“You know, I tried to make her get out,” Pyrite groaned. “Gave her the signal, like, 4 times. But I guess she wanted to see this through. What about the pendant?”

“Zazel has it. Both of them.”

“She found the other one?”

“No, Zazel had it the whole time, it turns out.”

“Great, so we were screwed, anyway. I can’t believe you arrested my sister, you asshole….”

Salute shrugged. “She’s a criminal. So are you.”

“Speaking of, what’s with all this?” Pyrite used his head to gesture all around. “Why am I still here?”

“I guess…” Salute looked away. “I wanted an explanation. I was actually starting to like you, you know.”

Pyrite rolled his eyes. “I’m honored. Wish you could’ve come around at a different time. You just had to get assigned to work with me the one day all of this was going to go down.”

“Why do it? Why steal from an innocent man?”

“Innocent?” Pyrite scoffed. “Zazel? You’ve gotta be joking. That guy’s the lowest of the low.”

“What? But you said he’s a recluse.”

Pyrite grimaced. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you? I’ve gotta give you my whole damn story.”

Salute tentatively nodded.

With another sigh and long pause, Pyrite continued.

“Zazel… is actually my godfather. I knew him way before all of this, back when his show was still on. My parents knew him for as long as I can remember.”

“His show… why’d it stop? It looked like it was big.”

“Because he’s a total hack.” Pyrite leaned in, glaring. “The guy ain’t nearly good enough for a show that big. All he’s got is some good sleight of hand and showmanship. But the real talent? The kind of thing that can make a show worth watching? None of that was him.

“But…” The world began to shift around Salute, before washing away as Pyrite winced. “Damn it! Still too injured….”

“Illusions?” Salute asked.

“My parents were special. And whatever they had was genetic, ‘cuz me and ‘sis have it, too. Most Zoroark have a pretty limited range for their illusions, barely further than their own bodies. But us… well, you’ve seen what we can do.

“What made Zazel’s show such a success was all just my parents working their magic. Mind-blowing illusions that could change your whole world. Of course, they never got a lick of credit.”

“So…” Salute cocked his heads. “Why’d they work with him?”

“Because he forced them! My parents didn’t even want to be magicians! They were trying to just be farmers, live in peace, you know? But things were tough. That was when the drought hit, the Still Years. We were starving. And they thought Zazel was a friend, enough to make him the godfather to their kids. So when he offered them a loan, they didn’t think twice about it.”

“Wait, a loan?”

“Yeah, man. That’s Zazel’s real job. It’s how he makes all his money, even now. It’s why he can afford to stay in his house all day. Though he always wanted people to know him as a magician.

“The loan was totally rigged. He pretty much set it up in a way he knew they’d never be able to pay. And once they defaulted, that’s when his trap was sprung. He told them they could pay it back by working his show, but it was never enough. He worked them to the damn bone.”

“What? How?”

“You know how exhausting it is to actually make an illusion?” Pyrite’s form warbled for a moment before he grunted in pain again. “Ugh, this would be so much easier if I could just demonstrate. Making myself look like a Lycanroc all the time, I bet you think that was easy.”

Salute shuffled a bit. “I mean, kind of, but—”

“It’s not! That’s the equivalent of running a full marathon every day, on top of whatever else I actually do! Illusions are costly. I can’t even do the whole ‘black and white disorientation zone’ thing on my own. ‘Sis has to take half.” Pyrite sat up a bit, talking about Albata. “It’s our team-up attack. You saw how good it is.”

His pleased expression faded. “My parents had to bust that kind of thing out daily, and more. It was killing them. Me and ‘sis could see it happening, it was horrible. Their last illusion, their last trick… it was to get both of us out.”

Pyrite gave a bitter smile. “Of course, that meant Zazel could stay blameless. After all, he didn’t force them to do the illusion that killed them! But their plan worked. Me and ‘sis escaped, and could live on our own, even if Zazel took everything my parents owned.”

Pyrite looked straight through Salute, fierce determination in his eyes. “That’s why we did this. Why I disguised myself for years to trick Zazel into trusting me, the same way he tricked my parents into trusting him. The two of us… we were gonna steal back our birthrights, two treasures our parents had meant to give to us.”

“Wait, those pendants. Those were supposed to be yours?”

Pyrite nodded. “He got them when he took all my parents’ stuff.”

Salute stood up, growling. “So he’s the real criminal! A loan-Sharpedo! You should have told me from the beginning! We have to—!”

“You don’t get it, man,” Pyrite sighed. “Zazel isn’t a criminal. He’s never broken the law. He’s a predatory lender, but not a Sharpedo. His rates are legal, and he hasn’t done anything that would get him arrested when it comes to collecting.

“But the collateral, that’s where he gets you.” Pyrite glared at nothing. “His game, it’s evil. He gets close to people, people he sees as marks. He befriends them, then when they get into a tough situation, he offers them a loan. One that looks decent at first glance, thanks to all the legalese. Then he screws ‘em, takes their shit, and flips it. It’s why he lives in a clearing surrounded by empty homes. All of them are technically his, now.

“That’s what you don’t get, Salute. You don’t need to break the law to do terrible things to people. You know how he got my parents? Why they were willing to kill themselves working on his show? The collateral for their loan was us. Me and my sister.”

Salute took a step back, sputtering in shock. “No… how?”

“He was our godfather. If our parents couldn’t take care of us for some reason, he was our legal guardian. Some reason like, say, being neck high in debt they couldn’t pay, or not having any home that belonged to them, or their only job being one that was completely off the books. All he’d have to do would be to tell the authorities, and we’d belong to him. What made them snap was seeing what he was planning. He was preparing for them to die, and was training me. I was gonna take over; illusions, stunts, he wanted me to do it all. It probably would’ve killed me in just a few years. Then he’d probably just move on to ‘sis. We’re just tools to him, at the end of the day. My parents sacrificed themselves so we wouldn’t have to live that life. C’mon man, you get it, right? You know what you’d do if it was for your folks.”

Salute gave a dark look. “No, I don’t. I never knew mine.”

“Oh.”

Salute slowly clawed at the ground, an awful frustration festering inside him. Zazel wasn’t a criminal. But everything that had been said so far… and Pyrite was his…. The conflict inside of the dragon was bubbling up, reaching a boiling point.

“So you just wanted revenge, is that it?” Salute spat, forcing a misdirected anger. “You wanted to get revenge on the guy who caused your parents’ deaths?”

To that, Pyrite laughed. “Revenge? Nah, I don’t really give a shit about that. C’mon, man, look around! Zazel? The guy’s already miserable. His show withered up and died along with my parents. His dreams were crushed. Now he lives alone, in a lifeless house, his only joy being the collection of the debts people still owe him. Seriously, look.”

Pyrite gestured with his head to the basement around them, filled with dust and clearly lived in, in a way the rest of the house was not.

“He spends all his time down here. Staring at all his garbage from the time he wishes he could go back to, but never can. Not without someone to handle the real work for him. I couldn’t care less about what he does. All I wanted was to get the two of us something to remember our parents by, even if we had to steal it from him.”

Salute’s anger crumbled. He was trying, but somehow, he couldn’t hate Pyrite the way he wanted to, even as he admitted to theft. To crimes. Crimes were supposed to be terrible, and abiding by the law was supposed to be wonderful. But all of this… it was backwards. Just like the whole damn day.

A beat passed, before something seized up in his chest, twisting it into crushing knots. Wait a minute. He was a dragon of justice, so he couldn’t think like a criminal. But Zazel wasn’t a criminal.

“S-so…” Salute mumbled, trying to look at anything other than the Zoroark in front of him. “He cares about his show? More than anything else?”

“Yeah. Pathetic, right?”

“And he needs… a member of your family to run it?”

“Pretty much. I’ve never heard of another Zoroark able to do what we can.”

“And he’s your legal guardian, so if he, you know, was able to get ahold of one of you, what would he do?”

Pyrite looked up in innocent thought. “Well, it wouldn’t matter if it was me, since I’m an adult, but if he somehow got ‘sis, then he’d go and restart his— no.”

Pyrite leaned in close, eyes suddenly wild. “Salute. Salute, man. You said Albata was taken to the Chief. You were the one to take her, right?”

Salute gave a long, pained wince. “…Sorry.”

“Salute, you brain-dead son of a—!”

---

CHAPTER TRACKLIST:

1. Stolen Spectacle ~ Theme of Zazel