Chapter 4 – Remnant

Als das Licht des Glühenden Blitzes erlasch, ging die Sonne auf einer verwundeten Welt auf, ohne jegliches Zeichen der Menschen, die wir als Freunde bezeichneten und Vermittler über ihre Werke hinaus nannten. Im Kielwasser des Lichts wurden die Länder aufgewühlt, und das Meer, das jetzt zwischen den Ländern die wir jetzt „Wahrheit” und „Ideale” nennen steht, haben sich geöffnet.

Das Gewebe von Raum und Zeit selbst war von dem Tumult vernarbt, und an Orten, wo solche Wunden tief waren und dieses Gewebe die Dimensionen des großen Jenseits nicht länger zurückhalten konnte, legten sich seltsame Nebel über das Land und schnitten es vom Rest ab der Welt. Wir nannten sie „Mysteriöse Orte”.

Jene Orte haben schon von Anfang an Ehrfurcht bei den Pokémon dieser Welt erregt. Sie machen sich bemerkbar, ihr Nebel ergießt sich über das Land auf dem sie sich niederlassen, und erleuchten nachts den Himmel mit ihren Polarlichtern. Einige besonders spektakuläre Exemplare halten sogar kleine Teile unserer Welt mit ihrem Dunst in der Luft, ähnlich wie Driftlon, die wie Wolken am Himmel schweben.

Dieselben Merkwürdigen Orten haben auch diesen besagten Pokémon Angst eingeflößt. Die Räume darin sind verzerrte Echos der Orte, die sie einst waren. Labyrinthe, die die Sinne verwirren und die im Innern mit Hunger zermürben, welche von den Dimensionen aufgewühlt und neu geformt werden, sobald die scheuernden Winde der Verzerrung alles weggeblasen haben, was sich in ihrem Weg befindet.

Und doch, seit es sie gegeben hat, waren unsere Schicksale mit diesen Orten verflochten. Einige mutige Seelen unter den Wilden und sogar einige Zivilen nennen die Taschen – die Inseln der Stabilität innerhalb der Verzerrung – ihr Zuhause. Einige als Zufluchtsort, andere als Versteck, um andere zu jagen. Die Kugeln und andere Gegenstände, die von diesen Orten geformt oder verändert wurden, helfen unseren Verteidigern und Kriegern und sind für die unerschrockenen und vorbereiteten Reisenden ein Mittel, um unmögliche Entfernungen und unmögliche Orte bereisen zu können.

Sowohl Triumph als auch Tragödie erwarten diejenigen, die solche Orte betreten. Welcher der beiden den Eintretenden widerfährt, hängt von vorsichtiger Weisheit und erlernter Erfahrung ab. Zusammen mit ausreichender Kraft, um die inneren Prüfungen zu überstehen.

–  Vorwort zu »Das Erkunderhandbuch zu Merkwürdigen Orten«

Past the other exit of the Pocket, the encampment’s remaining Outlaws huddled together in a larger chamber on Waterhead Cave’s ninth floor. Paths to and from Pockets had ways of skipping past floors, and from Kate and Irune had gathered from overhearing their fellow escapees, the one they’d fled the camp’s Pocket with was no exception. There, Kate and Irune had settled down beside Dalton and Artem, tending to their wounds with the juice of Oran Berries as gauze. The four were among the lucky eighteen Pokémon, mostly from the Riparian Raiders, who had managed to escape back into the Mystery Dungeon. The lot uneasily settled into a chamber with a lower cave ceiling dimly lit up by a small stream of glowing blue water not far from their escape route’s exit to try and regroup.

Every now and then, the four would look back towards the fogged-over path they’d used to flee into their present chamber, but it’d gone silent for the past five minutes. Just then, the Sneasel heard the sound of crunching footsteps, getting up as a few of the other Outlaws braced themselves for battle when the outline of a quadrupedal, shell-helmeted figure approached. The Outlaws settled down as they saw Parker slowly plodding into the chamber, stopping to paw at a burn on her left shoulder.

“Someone get an Oran Berry over here!” she snapped.

A blue-scarved Golisopod grunted and hastily obliged, leaving Kate to bite her lip worriedly to look off at the mist as a lower-slung figure trudged forward. There to her astonishment, was Lyle coming in with his head hung low and his fur matted and dirty, looking much as if the Samurott had rolled over onto him a second time on her way out.

“Lyle!”

The Sneasel sprang up and ran over to the Quilava, Irune tagging along as Dalton and Artem hesitated briefly before opting to check up on the straggling Fire-type. Kate stopped in front of her Quilava companion with an expression that was at once incredulous and relieved, shaking her head as she frowned and let out a sharp scold.

“Where have you been?!” Kate insisted. “Scaring us like that isn’t funny, you know!”

“We thought for a moment that you didn’t make it back there,” Dalton said, shaking his head with a low sigh. “Glad to see you pulled through. A lot of good ‘mons didn’t tonight.”

Kate watched as Lyle glumly hung his head in reply, the other four Outlaws wondering if he’d perhaps seen something that’d shaken him during his escape. The Sneasel froze briefly. She’d have expected Lyle to snap back in defense, or light up, or… something, but he looked downright defeated at the moment. It was then that Irune blinked, as the gathered Outlaws quickly realized that the Quilava was missing something—or rather someone who’d been with him almost the entire time she’d seen him that night.

“Where is your friend? The Marowak who was with you?” she asked. Lyle said nothing for a long while, before looking away and replying with a grudging croak.

“… He wasn’t able to get away.”

Kate stood there with her mouth hanging open in shock. Dalton and Artem quietly blanched at the stoat’s words, Irune looking away with a quiet murmur. No, no gottverdammt he had to be wrong here! He had to be overlooking something! The Sneasel shook her head, before narrowing her eyes and stepping forward and prodding at the Quilava with an agitated cry.

“What do you mean he didn’t make it?!” she demanded. “Alvin was right next to you!”

“Look—they picked him off and blew him into a tent like he was garbage, okay?!” Lyle shot back, his voice taking on a hurt, bitter tone. “How much clearer do I need to be-?!”

“Quiet!”

A bellowing cry came from the center of the room, as Parker got up still dripping Oran juice from her shoulder. Kate watched as the Samurott raised a paw and did a quick headcount of the remaining twenty Outlaws, and from her expression saw that she probably noticed the same thing she did: that there were fewer ‘mons present than her Riparian Raiders had at the beginning of the night. The Water-type paused, taken aback briefly, before shook her head and addressing the sorry assembly about her.

“I understand that this isn’t a good time for anyone,” she sighed. “But for now, we need to focus on trying to ride things out until things settle down a bit.”

“Well what are we supposed to do?” a Seismitoad from Parker’s gang grumbled. “You saw those ‘mons! It was like dealing with an entire Fähnlein!”

“They probably were from a Fähnlein,” an Arbok in Mistral Marauder colors muttered. “There’s been stories of one going about searching the countryside for some spies or something like that.”

Kate brought a paw to her head and cradled it when she caught Lyle blinking and glancing over at Irune, who seemed to have gone stiff as a board at the Arbok’s words. Spies didn’t get their own prisoner transport that got snuck along with merchant caravans, they were paraded around in public to be jeered at before being dealt with. Often permanently.

The way she, Lyle, and Alvin found her, it was as if the Gendarmen with her were trying to hide her. From the look that Lyle was giving her, he must’ve realized the same thing. Even the Togedemaru didn’t seem terribly privy to who they were transporting. Other things about the encounter didn’t seem to add up, as a Linoone in Parker’s colors cut in with a stammering whine.

“S-Since when were Fähnlein led by soldiers with colors like those?!” the Linoone exclaimed. “Who the hell was that guy?!”

Parker paused at the Normal-type’s exclamation when the Samurott suddenly stiffened up. Had she realized something about the soldiers that attacked them? Lyle quirked a brow as he watched the otter seemingly weigh a matter over in her mind, so it wasn’t just her who found this weird. Kate thought of having Scales raise a question, only for the otter to make things moot when she lowered her head with a quiet grumble.

“… I knew something about that Salamence’s face seemed familiar,” the Samurott murmured. “That was Lacan von Wellenhafen, a Graf from the old territory my band and I used to ply around Port Velhen, and a serving Oberst₁ from the army.”

Some of the remaining Riparian Raiders visibly blanched and cringed at the name, including both Dalton and Artem. Irune for her part seemed curiously unfazed, though she supposed that it would make sense if she knew the ‘mon leading those soldiers. Kate bit her lip at the reaction and felt a chill run over her body. Obersten were supposed to push around entire regiments of soldiers at a time. She didn’t know why one would be getting in the thick of a Mystery Dungeon, but from the way the others were reacting, it was clear the lot of them had been lucky to slip the Salamence’s grasp at all.

A quick glance over at Lyle revealed that he looked visibly ill. It didn’t take too many wild guesses to get an idea of why. He’d probably realized that that gottverdammten Grünhäuter and his underlings now held Alvin’s life in their claws. Lyle had always struggled a bit with not thinking too long when fate ran out for someone, and it was probably why he’d tried to leave two years ago in the first place.

She could see his eyes welling up. Something she hadn’t seen from Lyle since the night the Foehn Gang was taken apart. She didn’t know what was going through his mind, probably worry eating at him, or dark visions of that Salamence and his goons tormenting Alvin or whatever they had in mind for him.

Frankly she didn’t want to know what was going on. It wasn’t as if it was going to be easy to put this night behind them even if she got nice and plastered beforehand. Seeing Boss Myra crashing out of the air, the crew she’d known for the past two years collapsing, and now losing an old friend. Just how were they supposed to put that behind them? Would they even get the chance? It wasn’t as if that Fähnlein had stopped prowling around.

Kate and Lyle were suddenly snapped back to attention of their surroundings by Parker’s voice speaking up, Kate turning alongside her fellow Outlaws just in time to see the Samurott shake her head and begin to turn off from the group.

“I have no idea why he would be here of all places instead of deployed again to Edialeigh, or why he’d be doing the job of a common Hauptmann₂ with his rank… but I don’t intend to linger around and find out,” she harrumphed. “We have other things to worry about at the moment.”

The Samurott raised a forepaw and motioned off at another corridor left of the entrance they’d taken to their present floor.

“Namely getting out of here, and regrouping to ply our trade another day,” Parker said, before unsheathing a seamitar with a rattling clatter.

“To that end, it’s critical that we work together,” she insisted. “I’m the last of the remaining leaders, and you’re all that I have to work with for subordinates.”

Kate supposed that the Samurott had a point. Between being grounds plied by Wilders and subject to being blown away by the winds of the local Distortion was hardly a safe haven. Even so, from the low grumbles filtering around, not everyone was taking getting orders literally barked in their face well.

“Oi! Who appointed you leader over us?!” a Graveller spat. “I’m not even in your crew!”

Parker got up and stomped over to the Graveler, leveling the tip of her unsheathed seamitar at the Rock-type’s rounded chest. The Graveler’s eyes shot wide as the otter leaned her head in with an overpowering glare.

“Hrmph, were the circumstances less dire, I’d have half a mind to run you through right here and now, Graveler,” the Samurott growled. “You saw what that Salamence and his underlings are capable of. What do you even expect to do against them on your own? Suck up to him as ‘Herr₃ Brutalanda₄’, grovel, and roll over in surrender? Is that what you want?”

The defiance in the Graveler melted away, both from Parker’s imposing demeanor, and also the prospect of having to face a veritable living wall of Pokémon outfitted in military armor. The Rock Pokémon let out a quiet gulp, before timidly stammering back to his new self-appointed superior.

“N-No…”

“I thought so,” she scoffed.

Kate made a note to herself to not get on the Samurott’s bad side. She didn’t know how long she’d be stuck wearing her colors, but going from Boss Myra to her was going to be a… change to say the least. Parker made her way to the center of the floor and with a pair of swift slashes from her blade, cut a cross-shaped mark into the ground before addressing the assembled Outlaws.

“We can’t take it for granted that our Escape Orbs won’t take us straight into a waiting ambush of soldiers at the entrances we used to come back here, so everyone pack up your stuff and break up into teams of five. It’ll give us just enough ‘mons to form four search parties,” she barked. “Start by finding the corners of each floor before working your way to the center. Whenever we make our way to a new floor, we’ll mark the place by the stairs after they seal up and split up from there to find the next set.”

The Sneasel watched as Parker took her blade and tucked it back into its scabbard with an audible rattle, seemingly sizing them up for a moment. With an impatient twitch of her whiskers, she leveled a sharp scowl about her new hodgepodge of a crew.

“Every fifteen minutes, we will regroup to see if anyone’s found a lead before going back to continue searching. It may slow things down, but losing more of us to those Grünhäuter is the last thing anyone needs right now,” she harrumphed. “Are we clear about that?”

The Outlaw leader was met with a chorus of affirmations from her subordinates, a few overhasty or stammering ones coming out from a couple of the Pokémon in Mistral Marauder and Terra Tyrant scarves. Kate flattened her ears and grudgingly threw in one of her own, the Samurottlet out a sharp harrumph shortly afterwards, before speaking up in a gruff bark.

“Good, then pair up with your teammates and let’s move out.”

Kate headed over to Lyle as he brushed droplets away from the corners of his eyes as one after the other. She thought of asking him if he was alright but hesitated. Some wounds just needed to be managed on one’s own. She knew that all too well from her own life.

The Sneasel watched as the remaining Outlaws began to sort themselves out, some opting to group up with their remaining friends, while others clamored to join up with stronger-looking allies. … Where were they even supposed to start for choosing a team? She and Lyle watched as Dalton and Artem set off for the rest of the Outlaws. Much to her surprise, Kate caught a glimpse of a green blur scampering behind the two Riparian Raiders, realizing it was Irune giving an insistent tug at Dalton’s right arm as Lyle set out after her.

“Irune?” the Quilava asked. “What are you-?”

“It’s Dalton, right?” the Axew asked. “Let us help you with your search.”

Kate watched as Dalton and Artem stopped themselves and gave quizzical stares down at the Dragon-type. Why did it not surprise her in the least that Scales would have a pole up his butt now of times? The Heliolisk was the first to speak up, giving a shake of his head in reply.

“Eh? We were going to join our Boss’ party, Axew,” he insisted. “At least if she’s still open-“

“But you saved us once already tonight,” Irune insisted. “So let us repay the favor back!”

Kate flatten her ears at the suggestion. Oh hell no. Just because she stepped in to help Scales earlier that night and didn’t want to see him suffer didn’t mean that she wanted to be stuck with him! Kate hurriedly stepped forward with a wave of her claw as she tried to cut in and steer the Heliolisk back towards teammates she would find more suitable for him.

“Irune, that’s really not necess-“

“I don’t see a reason not to humor it, Dalton,” the Swellow insisted. “We do need a few teammates to get into smaller nooks and crannies to look around anyways. And she and that Quilava would be able to do that for days!”

Kate reflexively opened her mouth to protest only for Lyle to swat at her with a sharp frown. Dalton paused, before glancing off at the rest of the gathering. Much to his chagrin, the other Outlaws seemed to have already sorted themselves out into filled teams, including none other than Parker who’d just filled her fourth and fifth slots with a Murkrow and a Trevenant.

… So they were really going to be stuck with these two huh? It surely wouldn’t be that hard to talk him and that Artem bird into trying to push out a less experienced or familiar Outlaw. But bickering and jostling over unwanted teammates in the midst of circumstances as dire as theirs wasn’t likely to endear them to anyone, least of all their new leader.

Though then again, this was Scales. Maybe he’d find it in him to-

“Fine,” the Heliolisk said.

Dalton closed his eyes and let out a grumbling sigh, shooting a sideways glance back at the Axew and her companions.

“Just don’t keep us waiting, okay?”

… Dammit, of course something like this would happen.

Kate shot a sour frown back at the turn of events, as Lyle and Irune stepped forward to join their new teammates. After waiting for the groups ahead of them to set off, the five started forward, Dalton taking the lead, as the lot slipped off deeper into the twists and turns of the Mystery Dungeon.

She could already tell this was going to be a long night.

Lyle wasn’t sure how much time had passed afterwards, but before long, he and his companions made the trek through another five of Waterhead Cave’s floors. It couldn’t have been longer than an hour. Maybe two at most. It could be hard to keep track in Mystery Dungeons at times.

Each floor’s properties shared little in common beyond feeling like they were taken from the same waterlogged cave, though each floor sported new unnatural features. On the present floor, one such feature was a knob-like plateau with glowing falls cascading over its sides in the unreachable distance. Along with it, was a cave ceiling that hung so far above them that only faint outlines of its largest stalactites could be seen. If it weren’t for them and the lack of stars or auroras overhead, one could be forgiven for not remembering that they were in the domains of Waterhead Cave’s Distortion.

Not that Lyle would’ve likely noticed. The whole time, his thoughts drifted back to the raid on the Pocket. He’d known that a raid on their encampment was always a possibility, he’d lived through it once with the Foehn Gang. But the growls, the screams, seeing friends snatched away in front of his very eyes… G-Gods, why did that have to happen again?

… And what was he supposed to do now?

He’d likely burned through his cover and would need to lie low again. Sure he had some loot to show for it, but it would take more than a night to shake this sort of heat, and even if picking season weren’t about to end, he’d doubt he’d have a job to go back to after ghosting it for so long. His mind briefly considered trying to go back to his parents and the glassblowing shop, to plead for their forgiveness and for a chance to go back to apprenticing under his father… except he already tried that after the Foehn Gang was broken up and had been rebuffed. From what Nils had to say about them, he doubted his parents’ response would be any different this time.

Blauflamme, so much for there being someone out there watching out for him…

Lyle snapped back to attention and looked about his surroundings. Right, they were on the thirteenth floor, and he, Kate, Irune and their new allies were carrying along in a group until they reached a chamber of the Mystery Dungeon with more than two exits. There, they split up as planned to try and cover more ground before retracing their steps. The five came across a narrow and long chamber during one of their recent searches, with Irune stepping out into it only to be met with a chiding huff from behind.

“That’s a Gust Trap that you’re about to step on,” Lyle said. “If you don’t feel like getting blown into a wall, I’d advise taking a step back.”

Irune paused and took her foot back warily, looking down to see a faint outline of design that looked almost like a clover or a pinwheel in the ground. The Quilava brushed past her and sidestepped past the trap to carry down the chamber, Irune staring after the Quilava with a flabbergasted expression before shaking her head.

“You seem familiar with these places,” Irune said. “Did you used to go through Mystery Dungeons as part of an Exploration Team?”

“Hrmph, you learn a few things after hiding out in them a bit,” the Quilava retorted. “Though honestly, you got lucky there. Traps in Mystery Dungeons aren’t always that easy to spot on the floor.”

The Axew hurried along after her Quilava guide as he paused at the other end of the chamber where three exits split off and the pair heard the voices of Dalton and Artem coming down the leftmost one. All the while, Lyle couldn’t help but find the Dragon-type’s question to be a bit strange, and perhaps a sign of her inexperience.

After all, Exploration Teams and their ilk were more commonly referred to as Hunters among Outlaws. It was shorter, to the point, and accurately reflected what such Pokémon had to offer them. A long stint of penal labor, conscription into the army, or gods-knew-what else after getting drug in before the guards for a bounty that was usually no more than a month’s wage for a field laborer. Probably less if the bounty was paid in Carolins with how quickly they tended to lose value.

… Was it even safe to be around her right now? He hadn’t given it much thought earlier amid the confusion of everything, but that Salamence and his underlings had come specifically looking for her. If he’d just let her go off into the grass… if he’d just left her in that cage… would those Grünhäuter still have come after them? Would he still be in that Pocket celebrating their success with Alvin and everyone else?

Whatever could’ve been, it didn’t make sense dwelling too much on it. It wasn’t as if the kid could’ve known those soldiers would’ve been that close to her while she was locked up in a sealed wagon. And he and his fellow Outlaws weren’t in a position to be turning away help at the present moment.

“So what exactly are we looking for, then?”

Lyle snapped back to attention as he looked down to see Irune pawing at him uneasily. She looked about her surroundings warily, but didn’t seem to pick up on his skepticism.

“There’s got to be some way of telling that the stairs are nearby, isn’t there?”

Lyle cast a wary glance over at the Axew, before pinning his ears with a low harrumph and starting forward.

“The stairs to the next floor here in Waterhead Cave always open up downwards,” the Quilava explained. “So listen for sounds or winds that seem to be coming suspiciously from the-“

“Ack! Lyle! Watch out!” Irune suddenly yelped.

The Quilava stopped, before feeling Irune tug sharply at his flank and motion off ahead of him wide-eyed at a battered, spherical white shell lying on the ground.

“You almost stepped on that Apricorn over there!” she exclaimed. “You didn’t say anything about those also being in Mystery Dungeons!”

Lyle blinked a moment before warily approaching the shell, and noticed it was lying slightly ajar on a small pebble with a circular cutout on one end. The Quilava frowned, before sharply placing a paw on the white shell.

“That’s because they’re normally not, not that you’d need to be worried about half of one,” he said. “Besides, how many of them look like this once you chop ’em up?”

The Fire-type flipped the shell over to reveal a strange, gray surface that had been pitted and scuffed. In it were a series of circles and four lines that looked almost like the pattern that the lenses of Lock-On Specs usually had. Along the sides about halfway up, there were three strips of something that looked like glass that had been broken and cracked, with some residue left behind in space that looked like there was room for a fourth. Irune tilted her head puzzledly, poking curiously at the strange contraption.

“What on earth is it?” she asked.

“It’s a human relic. You can tell since it’s made of ancient resin. And these little shells tend to be one of the more common ones that turn up,” the Quilava explained. “Most places outside of Mystery Dungeons have been picked pretty clean of relics this small, but they still turn up every now and then inside places like these.”

Irune stooped down and picked up the white shell, gawking at it curiously as she played around with it in her claws. She tried orienting it with the shell pointing up, and then pointing down, but seemed to be at a loss for what the little husk was supposed to be.

“… Was it meant to be used as a cup or something?” she asked. “I can’t make heads or tails of this thing.”

The shells supposedly came in pairs to form sphere-like contraptions when complete. Though nobody in all of Wander had been able to provide a definitive answer to the Axew’s question, with many a theory proposed based off snippets of conflicting folklore here and there. Some had proposed the devices were shelters, other storage containers, others weapons…

But none of that was relevant right now, and Lyle sure as hell didn’t feel like giving a lecture over what the little shell might or might not be. What was relevant was that they were being chased by a Fähnlein from the army. A Fähnlein that the Axew right next to him had apparently had run-ins with before.

“What am I, an archeologist?” the stoat scoffed. “Your guess is as good as mine. Just throw it in your bag if it interests you and let’s keep mov-“

“Hey, I found it!”

Lyle flicked his ears at the sound of Kate’s voice coming from up ahead. From the left, Dalton and Artem emerged into the chamber. The pair trading puzzled glances with each other along with Lyle and Irune before the four filed ahead one by one down the passage. The party exited into a small chamber pockmarked with small pools of water that formed an almost checkered pattern with a solitary exit to the right, and Kate standing in the center of the room.

“You found the entrance?” the Swellow asked, his eyes widened out of surprise. “Where is it?”

“Nah, I found a Slow Wand,” the Sneasel insisted, pointing off towards a blue, forking branch with a glass knob at its end. “I’d been looking for one of those!”

Lyle flattened his ears out with an annoyed frown and felt his flames flicker, a quick look evidencing that everyone else in his search party was similarly displeased… other than Kate, of course. He didn’t know whether the Sneasel was putting on a brave face after the raid, or had just been more jaded about the loss of compatriots than he remembered, but she seemed to barely register their combined annoyance.

The Sneasel shrugged off her teammates’ displeasure and made her way over to Slow Wand lying at the mouth of the chamber’s exit. Just as she stooped down to grab it, a sudden flash of red leapt in, revealing the hissing form of an ungarbed Corphish.

“Get out of my territory, you stupid ferret!”

Before the Corphish could react, Kate threw a sharp slash forward, knocking the Wilder off his feet and onto his chitinous back, clearly taken aback by his foe’s strength. The Corphish attempted to roll over and get up, only to glance up and see his Sneasel assailant hovering over him with a sharp frown and a claw already drawn back for another swipe.

“How about you let me through, and I let you off with just a little dust-up?” Kate retorted. “Sound good, Wilder?”

The fight in the Wilder abruptly ebbed away, as the Corphish wheeled back with a panicked yelp and took off scuttling down the exit corridor. Kate pulled her claws back to her side, giving them a thorough shake as she flattened her ears out with an annoyed grunt.

“Tch, I thought Wilders thinned out whenever large parties passed through to avoid hopeless battles,” the Dark-type scoffed. “That’s the third time just on this floor we’ve had a run-in like that!”

“We’re not exactly in a ‘large party’ right now,” Dalton sighed, shaking his head back. “Though we should start heading for the meeting point. Parker said to show up there every fifteen minutes to share our findings, and we’re already running late.”

… Right, the lot of them were Riparian Raiders now, even if they didn’t have the colors to show it yet. Lyle wasn’t sure how the hell that was supposed to work for him in the longer term when Parker’s gang specifically specialized in navigating and raiding from rivers, an idea that he couldn’t help but involuntarily shudder over. But that was something to worry about later, when they weren’t stuck in a Mystery Dungeon with a bunch of pursuing soldiers.

“Ugh… already? But we barely covered any ground so far,” Lyle grumbled. “Let’s just hurry this up, since we’ve got to be running out of places to search for those stairs at this rate..”

The five set off, retracing their steps back into the corridor and through the long chamber as they followed a series of scratches and scorch marks on the surrounding walls they’d left behind to guide their way back… even if Kate spent more time at first inspecting her new Slow Wand. From the layers on its glassy knob that had formed on it, it appeared to be good for three swings. After a few minutes of walking, they returned to the chamber where they’d first entered the current floor, only to discover a crumbled pile of stone in the center of the room.

Lyle cocked a brow at the sight. Those were the stairs they’d used to come to this floor, or what was left of them anyways. The very fact that they had crumbled into a pile of rubble was a sign that the Distortion had shifted the floor, specifically a telltale sign that another new set of stairs had opened somewhere else on the floor they were on.

… It was probably just from a Wilder wandering down the last one. After all, a party the size of the one that ambushed them would prefer to try and find passages linked to Pockets to hop between floors instead of risking splitting themselves up on stairs that would begin to seal up the moment pressure was applied past about its midpoint and then fully removed. But then, it raised the question of what had happened to everyone else when this was supposed to be their meeting place…

“Oi Dalton! Artem!”

The four Outlaws flinched at the sound of a bellowing voice calling out from the far end of the chamber. Dalton was particularly startled, as he flared out his frill and he looked up towards the direction of the shout.

“Huh?”

Lyle and the others followed the Heliolisk’s gaze, over to the other end of the chamber, where Parker had gathered with the other three search parties. The Samurott gave an impatient huff, motioning over with blade in paw towards an exiting passage.

“Hurry it up! We were beginning to think that something had happened to you!” she snapped. “One of the Mistral Marauders found our way out! It’s by a pool in the northwest corner of this floor!”

Kate flattened her ears out at the Samurott’s barking order, as Irune nervously pawed at the back of her head and Lyle quietly grimaced. Had they really been running that late in their search earlier? If Dalton and Artem had any misgivings with their leader’s patience wearing thin, the two didn’t show it, as Artem called out with a firm nod in reply.

“Right, let’s move out!”

Parker slipped down the passage, the Outlaws filing in after the leader Samurott one by one as the tight corridor allowed. Lyle’s party waited until the end, as Dalton and Artem went in first, with Lyle following after, then Irune, and Kate at the rear. After making their way down a few corridors, Kate noted that the dungeon had fallen silent beyond the sound of their footsteps and the quiet trickling of water from streams intersecting the floor, and took the opportunity to stretch her arms with a quiet sigh.

“This is more like it,” Kate said. “Nice and quiet, no crabby Wilders getting in our way…”

“There’d be fewer of them accosting you if you wandered off less,” Dalton harrumphed, looking back over his shoulder towards her place the end of their train of Pokémon. The Sneasel blinked for a moment, before giving a dismissive shrug back.

“Meh, it was worth the trade,” she said. “After all, I wouldn’t have gotten that Slow Wand if I didn’t go off the beaten path a bit.”

Lyle rolled his eyes as the Outlaws made their way through a large chamber, following along it for an exit on the far side. When Lyle’s end of the train of Pokémon made it in, he noticed the smell of something vaguely burnt, when Irune looked off to her left and paled, tugging at the stoat frantically.

“Lyle, look!” she cried.

The Axew pointed off at a corner near the far end of the room. The Quilava at first couldn’t make out what the Dragon-Type was pointing at with his vision. He took a few steps over, when the burnt smell grew noticeably stronger as the room started to fill in and paused. Part of it had been blasted away with scorch marks around a spot a few paces ahead. That would explain the burnt smell he noticed. It was a Blast Trap, or what was left of one anyways…

“Tch, whoever searched this area must’ve been a bit clumsy,” he scoffed. “It happens.”

“No,” the Axew insisted. “Down there by the wall!”

Lyle looked towards the chunk of the wall that’d been blasted inwards, as the rest of his companions did likewise at Irune’s insistence when their blood froze. There lying blackened on the ground was a shoulder segment of cloth armor, with a set of broken straps dangling off of it. And even in its damaged state, bits of a triangular insignia and what he assumed were patches of green still came through, revealing it to belong to a soldier just like the ones who’d raided their encampment earlier.

“We need to let the others know,” Artem said. “We’re not alone down here.”

The Quilava and his teammates hurried over to warn the other Outlaws in the chamber, Dalton calling out for attention which made the others pause and look back. Just then, a Linoone abruptly froze and looked off to a passage left of him. The Normal-type’s face suddenly flushing pale as he pointed off down it.

“Ah! To our left!” the Linoone cried. “There’s a large party coming straight-!”

Lyle flinched as the Linoone was cut off by a slicing gust of wind that zipped in and flung him into the wall behind him. The Normal-type bounced off, flopping over limply as a Corvisquire in green military armor and a notched band about her right leg flew in with a sharp caw, prompting Parker to brace for battle.

“Steady yourselves!” the Samurott snarled. “We’ve got company!”

Things went by in a blur after the Corvisquire’s arrival. Parker spat an icy ray after the Corvisquire, only for her to roll and allow the beam to glance off her chest plate. From the entrance, Lyle saw a Toxicroak dart up a golden orb with white light shining in it before lobbing it up into the air. For a brief moment, Lyle froze, realizing the Toxicroak had thrown a Luminous Orb, prompting him to screw his eyes shut and cry out to his teammates.

“Cover your eyes!”

A blinding flash rang out that seemed to leak through even Lyle’s eyelids. Baying cries and roars rang out, as the Fire-type reopened his eyes to see a swarm of Pokémon of various shapes and sizes pouring out of the left exit. Attacks and missiles flew about in a disorienting flurry as Parker and her underlings hastily attempted to form a defensive line to pen their attackers up around the passage’s mouth. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed Kate shaking her head as her eyes regained focus, the Sneasel flattening her ears and started forward, motioning to her teammates with an impatient cry.

“Come on! We can take them long enough to sneak past-!”

Kate’s words died in her mouth as a deafening roar reverberated through the chamber. Lyle felt his blood freeze when much to his and his companions’ horror, the familiar form of the Salamence from the earlier raid barreled in, ramming square into Parker and sending her tumbling back as he punched a hole in their defensive line. The Samurott spat ice onto one of her seamitars and slashed at the drake’s underside to force him off, but a rattle and glimpse of dull metal through a fresh gouge in the plates of the Salamence’s armor as he righted himself revealed Parker’s slash had stopped at their mail layer.

After a moment to steel their nerves, he and his companions bounded ahead to desperately try to help their fellow Outlaws reinforce their line, only for the wall between them and the bulk of the party to abruptly rend apart about a straight line in a cloud of dust. The five coughed and shielded their faces, staring up to see an Ursaring in army plates emerge and throw aside the splintered remains of an almost pick-shaped Tunnel Wand. Lyle stared blankly and frantically looked over at Kate, where he saw the Dark-type’s face losing its color as she watched the Ursaring storm out and raise a claw at them.

“Over there!” the Ursaring exclaimed. “Their rearguard’s got the Dyad!”

Lyle blanched as he watched a good half dozen other Pokémon in green armor exit the newly created passage and all turn towards them. Dreadnaw, Ferrothorn, Scolipede … any one of them appeared strong enough to be a difficult battle even without armor to absorb their blows. The five stood frozen in shock for a moment, before an errant jet of water zipped over Kate’s head and made her spring back with a yelp.

“Gih! Screw that!” she cried. “We’ll help out from the sidelines!”

Kate hurriedly fished out her Slow Wand and flicked it back at the approaching soldiers. Lyle didn’t stop to see who she hit, instead dropping to his paws and bolting with his companions for the exit behind them. He saw the passage walls just beyond the entrance approach, with Kate and Irune hurriedly ducking down it.

Just as he reached the exit, he heard a bellowing roar over his shoulder and glanced behind to see the Ursaring charging him readying a claw swipe. Lyle spat up smoke in a panic, before a sharp crackle rang out along with a startled yelp. The Quilava wheeled around, watching as the smoke cleared enough to see the pursuing soldier stumbling back and struggling sluggishly at the mouth of the passage with static arcing on his body and Dalton and Artem hurriedly running past the stunned Ursaring to emerge in front of him.

“Don’t just stand there!” Artem squawked. “Keep running!”

Lyle needed no further encouragement as he turned and ran after Kate and Irune’s shadows up ahead. Gottverdammt, why had he ever let Kate talk him into coming here?!

Confused shouts of ‘Watch where you’re going!’ and ‘You tripped me!’ rang out from behind them, making him realize that the Ursaring’s stumble had bought them a reprieve, however short. Lyle, Dalton, and Artem hurried along the passage and followed it into a larger chamber that served as an intersection to three others splitting off to the left and right up, where they found Kate and Irune waiting for them glancing wide-eyed before they hurried along for the westerly exit.

“Oh come on, don’t get slow and plodding on us now!” Kate snapped. “As if we haven’t had enough problems from that tonight!”

“W-Where are we even supposed to run to?!” Irune cried. “There’s no way we can take all of those soldiers once when they catch up!”

“We’ll try and make it to the stairs!” Dalton insisted. “Parker and the others are bound to fight their way through. So when she makes it there, we’ll go down them with whoever’s still standing!”

“Stop right there, criminal scum!”

Lyle watched Kate and Irune jumped aside as a purple and green blur stormed out from the passage they’d headed towards. The stoat came to a skidding stop, as Dalton and Artem bumped into him from behind, Lyle involuntarily letting out a low whine after seeing the charging Pokémon was a Nidoking clad in army plates. The Poison-type jumped up and struck the ground with a sharp stomp, churning up forceful tremors that knocked everyone but Artem down with sharp yelps. Lyle hit the ground and lay stunned for a moment, wheezing from the blow of the Earthquake. The world seemed to spin around him as he briefly saw Dalton reeling from having the wind taken out of him. He doubted his other teammates were doing much better.

He rolled as the Nidoking’s footsteps approach when a flash of blue zipped overhead. He hurriedly threw himself onto his feet and looked up, where there was Artem diving at the enemy soldier with a sharp, defiant squawk.

“Get out of our way, Grünhäuter!“

Artem dove as cutting air wreathed his body and clipped the Nidoking’s left leg with his talons, making the soldier bellow in pain from his Aerial Ace and stumble back off his feet. Lyle struggled to catch his breath and fought to conjure fire at the back of his throat, only for his teammates to beat him to the punch. From the left, Dalton spat up an orb of water and fanned it out into a cresting wave at the Poison-type that Lyle had to fall back from to avoid getting drenched. Along the way, he spotted Kate flicking her Slow Wand at the Nidoking, as one of the glassy layers shattered and silken strands erupted from its tip.

Lyle spun on his heels at the sound of a startled bellow, where he saw that the armored Nioking had been enveloped by the Slow Wand’s silk. While the Poison-type struggled against the effects of the Slow Wand, Kate hastily stashed her Wand and dashed in as her claws began to trail faint shadowy flecks, throwing a running slash aimed at the soldier’s flank.

The soldier noticed Kate’s approach and whirled about, leaving her claws to run onto a segment of armor on his back where it failed to accomplish much beyond leaving a deep cut into its interlocked fabric. Because of course they couldn’t catch a break right about now. Lyle lowered his head and bolted at the Nidoking as he attempted to focus his attention on Kate. He jumped up, fire erupting along his body in a fiery tackle when the Poison-type abruptly stopped and whirled around with his horn held low.

“Not so fast, you overgrown rat!”

It was too late to turn back. All he could do was charge ahead and hope for the best. Lyle carried on with his Flame Charge, jumping up and finding his mark with a glancing blow on the Nidoking’s right leg. Before he could touch the ground, he glimpsed the Nidoking swinging a low sharp, poison-slicked jab from his claws that almost scraped the ground and suddenly felt a sharp pain shoot through his stomach. Lyle saw the world spin about him, sailing through the air before he crashed back to earth with a sharp yelp. Lyle laid on the ground in a daze, looking over to see the soldier pawing at the ground, lowering his horned head as he readied a ramming tackle when the Nidoking suddenly froze up in pain from a blow from behind.

“Ack!”

Lyle gasped and wheezed, watching as the Nidoking turned around just in time for a second chop from Irune’s tusks to strike his calf. The Poison-type stumbled back with a yelp and fought to stay on his feet as the Axew dug her feet in and glared up defiantly.

“You want me so badly? Then come and get me!”

Lyle moved his head and watched as afterimages of Irune ran for the western exit as the Nidoking growled and gave chase. Which was probably a sign that he wasn’t doing too well at the moment. It was then that he noticed that Dalton was building up an orb of water in his mouth just beside the Nidoking, with the Poison-type none the wiser. The soldier noticed Dalton’s Surf at the last moment, before Dalton spat it up onto the ground and fanned it out into a cresting wave that overtook the Nidoking.

The Quilava hurriedly fell back as Dalton’s wave fanned out and stray water lapped at his paws, and couldn’t help but wince in sympathy after hearing the Surf bear down on the Nidoking followed by a sharp yelp. He glanced back, and saw the soldier sprawled out in a sopping daze on the ground. Even with his armor, the wave had clearly been as painful as it looked. There in the soggy aftermath was the Poison-type struggling to get back up when Artem summarily dove in with a spread-wing tackle that knocked the soldier back down. The sound of a thwip pricked Lyle’s ears as an icy flechette zipped in shortly afterwards and struck the Nidoking in the face, keeling him over limply on the ground on his side.

Lyle rolled onto his feet, struggling to keep his footing as the world spun around him. From his left, he saw Kate’s form enter his field of vision, the Sneasel looking down at him with a worried glance.

“You doing alright there, Lyle?” she asked.

Lyle could only answer with a weak groan in reply. He couldn’t hear his fire sputter from weakness right then and there, so he had to have some strength within him left to fight, but the Nidoking must’ve done a number on him. Enough of one for both Irune and Dalton to eye him worriedly as Artem motioned for them to follow from the air.

“Patch him up when we’re in the clear!” the Swellow insisted. “Those soldiers are catching up fast!”

The five hurried along, tracing their way along the passages until Lyle’s nose picked up the scent of damp earth and noticed scratches left in the walls pointing off in rough arrows. Right, one of the other Outlaws already found the exit in the northwest corner of the floor, and this must’ve been the path he took!

“Follow those markings!” the Quilava cried. “Those stairs can’t be far from here!”

The group ran ahead, dutifully chasing after the water’s scent and following the crude markers in the walls until they found a chamber bisected by a channel of water. The Outlaws looked around frantically, when Lyle’s eyes fell upon the far right corner of the chamber. There, much as Parker had told them, was a series of stony steps that slipped into the earth at the end, the tell-tale sign of stairs descending to the next floor.

“Ah! Th-That’s it!” the stoat cried, prompting Dalton to nod back with a low grunt.

“Alright! We just need to hold out a little bit, and then-!”

“Going somewhere?!”

A harsh shout rang out from behind, Lyle freezing and turning just as an Inteleon stormed in and knocked Dalton back and to his left with a sharp, gliding tackle. The Heliolisk tumbled back, almost falling upon a faint impression of what looked almost like the rings of a target in the cave’s floor. The Electric-type quickly righted himself, digging his paws into the dirt and throwing himself back onto his feet with a low hiss. A sharp huff drew Lyle’s attention back towards the entrance, he and the rest of his allies bracing themselves as he saw the Inteleon fanning out his skin flaps and tentatively curled his fingers in against his palms.

“Scurrying off when trouble comes your way, huh?” the soldier sneered. “I know Wimpod that have more backbone than you lot!”

“Let’s see you back those words up, you overgrown newt!” Artem spat.

Lyle reflexively called out to the Swellow to wait a moment, only for the bird to fly up and fling a cutting gust of wind forward. The Air Slash found its mark by the white army insignia on the Inteleon’s breastplate, and made the Water-type stumble back, except the ‘mon quickly righted himself and seemed about as fazed as if he’d been struck by a mere Gust!

Water began to wreath the skin of the lizard’s right hand, Lyle flaring up with a start as the Water-Type raised it and leveled its digits square at him and Irune. Without thinking, he hastily tackled Irune aside with a yelp as a watery pulse disgorged from the lizard’s fingertips.

Lyle flinched as water splattered over them—the soldier’s Snipe Shot had missed them by mere hairs. Lyle stumbled up to his feet with ragged pants. He needed to get the hell away from that ‘mon, and fast! But before he could run, he ran back into his Axew teammate, who was panted startledly and turned wide, startled eyes back at him.

“I don’t think this one’s going to fall for the same trick as that Nidoking!” she cried.

The sound of crackling electricity pricked Lyle’s ears as he saw Dalton attempt to lob a thick bolt of electricity on the Inteleon. Much like Artem’s Air Slash, his blow hit the Inteleon’s chest plate, which while visibly damaged, once again cushioned the Water-type from the blow as he stumbled back, before springing back onto his feet.

H-How were they supposed to manage fighting this ‘mon when it was taking so many blows just to degrade his armor?! From his vantage point, Lyle watched as Kate used her Slow Wand once more as a crack rang out from it splintering after being exhausted, getting silken strands all over their Inteleon assailant.

The effects of the Slow Wand proved to be less respite than hoped, as barring a brief, startled moment, the Water-type remained nimble enough to rush Dalton with a sudden lunging punch. It was when Dalton sprang back to try and duck the soldier’s Sucker Punch when Lyle saw it: There on the Inteleon’s flank were gaps between the plates, the straps for his armor could be seen underneath. And if they were anything like the ones on Nils’ armor, then all they needed to come apart was a well-placed slash to cut through them!

“Go for the straps of his armor!” the Quilava insisted. “If we peel some of those plates off, it’ll open up a place on his body we can target!”

“Got it!” Kate called back, as she threw aside the broken stub of her Slow Wand. “Just give us some cover to work with!”

Lyle ran up and spat a plume of smoke at the Inteleon’s feet, making him cough and stumble about blinded for a moment. He sprang back to elude the lizard’s grasp, watching Kate and Irune ran forward: the Sneasel from the left and the Axew from the right. Kate jumped up as her claws took on an almost metallic glint, using her body’s weight to rake them downwards. Her swipe found its mark between the gaps of the Inteleon’s armor and in spite of his fears, it seemed to have worked well enough to have cut through a pair of straps. Lyle couldn’t get a good view of the damage before Irune charged in and attempted to hack at the soldier’s other flank with her tusks. The Quilava darted ahead and watched as her tusk chops veered off course from the Water-type as he recoiled from Kate’s blow. The first struck too early on a segment of armor on the soldier’s thigh, accomplishing little other than to leave a set of gouges in it, while the second hit empty air. Lyle reflexively tried to spit up fire, only for the Inteleon to suddenly jump up. Lyle blanched as his fire hit the ground inertly, the soldier spreading his skin flaps to glide back a safe distance and come to a crouching stop with a sharp snarl.

“Little pests!” he spat. “Try this on for size!”

The Inteleon flung another Snipe Shot at Kate, the Sneasel attempting to sidestep only for the blow to catch her in shoulder and send her flying into the wall. Kate hit the wall and bounced off it, falling to her knees and claws as she struggled to get back up dripping water. Lyle watched as the Inteleon attempted to charge Kate’s resting place as she reeled from the blow, when he hurriedly sucked in a sharp breath and spat up a spray of whitish fire right as the soldier passed. The Will-O-Wisp found its mark on an exposed length of the Grünhäuter’s arm. The Water-type froze with a wince and grabbed his fresh burn, the Quilava watching as the soldier whirled about with gritted teeth.

Lyle snorted out embers in defiance. If he could dance circles around Parker, he could sure as hell do the same to this twiggy-looking newt until the others finished taking his plates apart.

“What’s the matter?” the stoat taunted. “Can’t keep a Fire-type from showing you up?”

That definitely got his attention. Lyle bobbed and weaved back and forth in place as water built on the Inteleon’s paws and the soldier tried to mow him down with a watery pulse, the Quilava side-stepping as the attack sailed just past his head. The Inteleon quickly tried to correct for his aim and brought his firing fingers down before his Quilava foe, prompting Lyle to dive between the lizard’s legs and force the fire from his vents just as he passed under the soldier’s tail. Lyle felt his fire deflect off of solid mass just above him and heard the Inteleon yelp shortly afterwards. Singing a ‘mon’s backside wasn’t the proudest thing he’d done to distract an opponent, but he sure as hell wasn’t complaining right now. Lyle whirled back and braced himself, watching as the Water-type cradled the base of his tail and lost focus for a moment when a sharp cry filled the chamber.

“Gotcha!”

A blue-and-white blur sailed in as Artem latched onto the Inteleon and drove fierce pecks at the lizard’s breastplate as the soldier thrashed about wildly. Lyle watched the two twist about, as the bird’s pecks broke the last few straps holding the plates over the lizard’s white underbelly below in place and it fell to the ground with a dull thump. The soldier flailed, trying to throw off his attacker as Lyle moved in along with his teammates. He saw the Inteleon carry on, lurching in an erratic course that took him to the edge of the watery spit that ran through the chamber as he tried to throw the Swellow loose before he grit his teeth grabbed at a patch of scales along his tail.

“Argh! Get off of me!” the Water-type snapped.

The Inteleon forced water out of the skin around his fingertips and pulled what looked like a blade loose from the patch of scales, swinging it at his assailant wreathed in water. The Liquidation dug into Artem’s breast and sent him flying away with a spray of feathers and a sharp squawk. The Swellow hit the ground a short distance away, and tumbled back towards the ring-like impressions in the dirt, where his left wing touched it and a flash of light abruptly lit up the chamber. When it subsided, Lyle’s eyes widened and he froze at the sight: there was no sign of the Flying-type to be seen but a now-disturbed patch of dirt. His teammates looked just as shocked, with Dalton in particular stammering as his mouth hung open, the Heliolisk staring slack-jawed at the now-vacant cave floor.

“Artem!“

All this time, the chamber had a Warp Trap lying in plain sight. And Artem had been the unlucky soul to trigger it. Dalton seemed to linger in dumb shock at the spent trap, for a moment before gritting his teeth and whirling around for the water. There the Inteleon was struggling to get up as he attempted to retrieve his damaged armor plate and Lyle felt a sudden chill at the fierce glare that came over the Electric-type’s face.

It was the sort of look a ‘mon ready to kill.

A loud crackle filled the chamber as the Heliolisk threw a thick electric bolt at the Inteleon’s exposed stomach, making him lock up, drop his knife, and slump over into the water. Dalton stomped up, still panting from exhaustion and his wounds, and threw the Inteleon’s keratinous blade aside before he kicked the soldier over. The Water-type wheezed for air in the water, looking up just as Dalton raised his frill with a fierce glare and sparks began to dance on his scales.

“Where is he, you miserable Grünhäuter?!” he shouted. “What did you do to Artem?!”

Dalton sparked up and lit up the cave with yellow light as he threw another Thunderbolt at the soldier, drawing loud screams of pain that made Lyle flinch and look away. The Heliolisk waited a few moments, before striking the Water-type again with much the same effect.

Lyle pinned his ears back and stared ahead with a frightened grimace as the Heliolisk let sparks dance on him a third time. Just then, Irune shot forward, wide-eyed, running up and sharply tugging at the Heliolisk’s tail as she cried out in a frantic, stammering voice.

“S-Stop it!” the Axew pleaded. “He doesn’t know any more than you do!”

Dalton hesitated a moment as the sparks on his hide died down and looked back down at the Inteleon. Far from the arrogant soldier proudly adorned in armor that had stormed in mocking their supposed lack of backbone, the Water-type was now weakly trying to nurse his burnt arm and curl around his exposed underbelly that now sported sets of ugly black blotches. Any shred of the Water-type’s earlier confidence and swagger was now absent, as the creature lay shuddering in the water with his eyes screwed shut in fright and low whimpers escaping his throat.

The Heliolisk looked down and said nothing for a brief moment, seemingly startled and taken aback. After a moment to recompose himself, Dalton shook his head with a growling ‘jämmerlich₅’ under his breath and turned away from the felled soldier, starting off for the chamber’s entrance as he called out to his teammates.

“We need to go and find Artem!” he insisted.

“You can’t be serious!” Kate exclaimed. “We’re not in any shape to be going on rescue missions here! Let’s just hold the fort down and wait for him to come-!”

“Over there!” a voice from further down the passage suddenly cried. “I heard Karl shouting!”

The shining ray of a Psybeam zipped in, as Lyle and his fellows hit the ground as it zipped overhead. A Blast Seed followed, which hit the ground close enough to make him stumble up with a yelp as he felt its heat and flash from its detonation wash over his pelt. Oh screw this noise, they were getting out of here while they could!

Lyle got up and ran, Irune and Kate taking off when he saw Dalton get up and dig his feet in and spit up a Surf that he threw down the corridor at a number of armored figures he couldn’t get a clear view of. Was this ‘mon trying to get himself captured?! The Quilava wheeled about and let out an exasperated hiss, crying out to the Heliolisk behind them.

“Dalton! We can’t hold all of them off with just four of us!” he shouted. “Stop stalling!”

The Electric-type whirled around and shot back a fierce glare, the Heliolisk setting his teeth on edge as he snapped back with sparks dancing on his scales.

“No! Nobody else has made it here yet!” he insisted. “And Artem- !”

The Heliolisk was cut off by an Aura Sphere arcing and striking him in the side of his head, Lyle flinching as the lizard tumbled along the ground towards the steps. He didn’t stop after reaching them, as his body limply fell down them. At once, the earth shuddered and groaned with the sound of grinding stone. Lyle was sure that wasn’t a good sign, and a quick glance over at Irune amid the attacks zipping by revealed that she was raising a claw off at the mouth of the steps with a horrified expression, where he could see the earth around the steps beginning to seal up.

“A-Aah! The stairs!” the Axew cried. “They’re closing in on themselves!”

“Time’s up!” the Sneasel yelped. “It’s now or never!”

Lyle bounded ahead as Kate and Irune hurriedly dashed down the steps as attacks and missiles zipped past them, the Quilava squeezing past a gap small enough for his body’s flames to deflect off of hard stone as soldiers’ cries rang out behind him, before they were overpowered by the grinding noise and a deep click. Lyle looked back and saw that not even a dozen paces behind him, the stairs had sealed up into an earthen overhang that served as a ceiling, the surrounding dirt churned up from an abrupt emergence.

The Quilava suppressed his fire, stumbling forward panting as he scanned his surroundings and noted that the cave ceiling was significantly lower on this new floor. There at the base of the stairs, he came across Kate and Irune tending to Dalton as he laid in an unmoving heap. After a couple fruitless attempts to rouse the lizard by tugging and prodding at him, the Sneasel sighed and reached for her bag, pulling out a Tiny Reviver Seed that she slipped into the Heliolisk’s mouth. After a few moments, Dalton began to stir, coughing and gagging up the seed spent and shorn of its green sprout that hit the ground coated with spittle. The Heliolisk let out a low groan and cradled his head, when he noticed the three remaining members of his party and stared back at them with a quiet grimace.

“Did… Did anyone else make it?” he finally managed.

Lyle and Kate lowered their eyes and looked away glumly, Irune looking up at him with an expression that seemed almost guilty for a moment, before shaking her head and quietly answering.

“I’m sorry, Dalton,” she said. “We were the only ones who made it.”

The lizard’s jaw hung open at the Dragon-type’s reply, the Heliolisk instinctively darting back up the stairs where he reached at the layer of earth above and scratched desperately at it. Dalton watched as his swipes left little, shallow streaks in the earth. Lyle squeezed his eyes shut and reared up onto his hindlegs, calling out after the lizard with a sharp bark.

“Dalton, those stairs aren’t going to open back up and you know it!” Lyle said. “Stairs between floors are one-way! Once they seal up, that’s it until a new set opens!”

The Heliolisk peered down at him, Lyle heard footsteps and saw Kate and Irune tiredly shuffling up, still panting. The Heliolisk cast a glance between the sealed stairs, and the other Outlaws, before looking back to the others.

“Th-Then let’s find somewhere to wait for Parker and the others to catch up!” he insisted. “Once the next stairs open up-!”

“Scales, give it a rest already. You saw what we were up against up there!” Kate grumbled. “If there were enough soldiers to spare to mob us like that at the end, do you really think that when the next stairs open up that a Grünhäuter isn’t going to be the first ‘mon down it?”

Lyle watched as Dalton’s expression went blank and he hung his head in reply. Maybe Parker would somehow pull through, but when that ‘Lacan’ Salamence himself was leading the group they ran into, what were the odds the others from the encampment raid weren’t right on his tail? The Heliolisk seemed to recognize it too from the gutted look on his face. In all likelihood, Dalton was the last remnant of Parker’s proud Riparian Raiders, and they of the bands whose colors they wore about their necks.

The desperate rush that had carried him over to the stairs was beginning to wear off, Lyle could feel it in his burning limbs. Lyle took a moment to try to shake some feeling back into them, before turning towards a corridor that trailed off from the chamber square ahead. They were the last ‘mons standing, and the one card they still had left to play against those soldiers was putting as much distance as possible between themselves and this gottverdammten hole.

“There’s nothing else we can do right now but look out for ourselves,” he muttered. “We won’t have long before those soldiers figure out we’re not there anymore.”

The four set off, shuffling off deeper into the new floor of the Mystery Dungeon in the dim blue glow of Waterhead Cave’s luminescence amid its stalactites and stalagmites. All the while, a crushing aura hung over the lot, as the reverie and sense of triumph they’d shared just a couple hours ago was long-dead. In its stead settled a heavy-hearted melancholy, alongside dread over what ordeal they’d face next.

Beyond brief moments to tend to their wounds, Lyle and his now-diminished circle of comrades stopped for nothing for the next four floors of the Mystery Dungeon. Their reduced numbers meant Wilders no longer shied away from them, as the four found themselves hurriedly darting from the sound of approaching steps as they attempted to avoid skirmishes and conserve what little strength they had left. After all, who could possibly know how far behind the Salamence’s underlings were?

The strategy was only partly successful, but fortunately, none but other Wilders seemed to have overheard their scuffles, and a few stiff strikes were usually enough to either overpower them or break their fighting spirit and send them in panicked retreat.

The four found the stairs of the eighteenth floor, and filed down them. There, as the steps sealed up behind them, they came to a darkened, empty chamber. Lyle let his fire on his vents flicker to life, where he saw they’d come to an unremarkable stone chamber with a waterlogged path up ahead that drifted off into haze ahead. Lyle blinked before starting forward and pawed warily at the water. It lacked the glow the water elsewhere in the Mystery Dungeon had, and it didn’t look terribly deep.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up that they’d come across the main exit outside. But eighteen floors was about as deep as he remembered Waterhead Cave being from overheard conversations in the past. The very fact there was fog up ahead also evidenced that wherever the path led to, it went to a place beyond the effects of the Mystery Dungeon’s Distortion…

“I don’t suppose it’d have killed someone to leave a raft we could’ve used here,” Lyle grumbled.

Lyle poked a paw into the water and much to his alarm, fell in deep enough to reach his eyes. As soon as his paws felt the bottom, Lyle jolted back out with his fire flaring with a sharp start, spluttering and coughing. While it was still shallow enough to cross, the water had proven deeper than expected. Too deep for him to cross without rearing up, and gods-knew-how long they’d have to go through it to reach their refuge. The Outlaws traded exhausted looks with one another, as Irune rubbed at her eyes wearily and let out a tired groan.

“Nrgh… H-How much further are we supposed to keep going?” she asked, prompting Kate to pin her ears back with an annoyed huff.

“Look, do you want to take your chances with those Grünhäuter chasing after us?” the Sneasel demanded. “If we sit and wait around, we’ll risk getting discovered!”

Kate’s reply made Dalton shoot a sharp frown back at her, as he folded his arms with a tired huff.

“And if we keep running until we’re shambling half-asleep, we won’t have any energy to fight back with if we do get discovered,” Dalton retorted.

Lyle paused after the Electric-type’s retort and looked down at his reflection in the water. He tried to force out his body’s fire to see how he was faring, only to notice it smoke and sputter, with the light it provided revealing he tired bags under his eyes.

“… They’ve got a point, Kate,” he said, shaking his head back. “I can see fog up ahead, let’s just lay low in whatever Pocket’s on the other end and rest for a bit. We can take turns keeping watch for whoever’s coming.”

“Tch, you can if you want to so badly,” she scoffed. “I’ll get some shuteye.”

The stoat grumbled to himself about how Kate didn’t even want to rest just a minute ago, before suppressing his body fire and inching into the water. Lyle heard the water hiss as it made contact with his still-hot vents on his tail and he walked out until the water came up to his chest, fighting against squirming discomfort from his cold, damp surroundings and carrying on a brief ways. After making it forward about twenty paces, Lyle noticed the water’s depth remained constant before looking back at Kate and waving his paw.

“Hey Kate, you still have that guiding string from earlier?” the Quilava asked. “It looks like this water’s shallow enough for us to ford.”

Lyle was answered by Kate fishing through her bag and throwing the weighted end of the string out to him, the stoat jumping up to catch it, only to swiftly regret it as he fell into the water and got the upper half of his body drenched again for his trouble. The Quilava stood back up, shaking what he could dry and flattening out his ears as Kate made her way in, Irune attempted to follow, only to realize the water quickly deepened out to the point where she could barely keep her snout above the surface, when Dalton came up behind her and picked her up and set her on his shoulders.

“Just hold on tight, alright?” he insisted. “If you fall off while we’re in the thicker portions of the fog, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to find you afterwards.”

Irune nodded back quietly, breathing a quiet thanks as Dalton shuffled off into the water. Lyle trudged forward, leading his teammates along into the fog where the world around them quickly faded away into the mist. With no ground to be their guide, the way of gauging if they were on the path was to stop and feel the direction of the water. The closer they were to the center of the path, the stiller the water would be, while the further from center they were, the more the water would flow towards the Mystery Dungeon’s Distortion at the path’s edge.

The net result was a faltering progression, which reminded Lyle of an episode back when he was still a wee Cyndaquil and the ‘Igelavars’ of his Vatername still accurately reflected his father’s species. He’d managed to get himself stuck in the middle of the stream right outside of his home village while playing, and had been so afraid of the water that he could do little other than curl into a ball, light his back flames up, and cry. His father chanced to be nearby and rushed out, wading much as he was doing right now out to him and carrying him back to the safety of dry land.

Lyle let out a low sigh at the memory. He’d fortunately outgrown such behavior and developed a stronger set of nerves years ago, not that the little Cyndaquil back then would’ve ever imagined that a mere eight years later, the same father who came to his aid would kick him out of his house.

Lyle looked ahead as he started to see the fog thin, where he saw water and smooth walls about him, but most curiously, dim light up ahead.

“Huh?”

The Quilava trudged forward, leading his teammates out of the fog and into a waterlogged tunnel with smooth walls that were chipped and pockmarked in places and looked to be made of some sort of concrete. From their color and texture, they looked very old. Old enough that he’d be wholly unsurprised if they were relics from the world before the Great Flash themselves. Perhaps he’d be more curious about them if he weren’t miserable and standing up to his chest in frigid water. Thankfully, he could see an end up ahead, and that it was the sight of warm sunlight and the sound of faint chirps carrying on the wind.

“I… don’t think that’s a Pocket up ahead,” the Fire-type said. “Let’s see where this tunnel goes.”

The three trudged out of the tunnel and found themselves next to a creek surrounded by trees with yellowed, and—from what Lyle presumed from the season—red leaves that occasionally drifted off with the wind. Up above them, the sky was beginning to turn blue with sunlight just starting to peek over the horizon from the west. One by one, Lyle and his companions stumbled around the mouth of the tunnel and onto a grassy bank of the stream, where the lot all but flopped over and lay there for a moment, panting exhaustedly.

“Urgh… So what now?” Kate asked.