Boiling Anger

Chilly winds blew in fluffy clouds over Grandeport’s main square that the trio of Andrew, Thomas, and Charlie overlooked.

“Hey, that one looks like a Marshtomp. Doesn’t it, Andrew?” Thomas pointed up at a cloud. .

Andrew straightened his bowtie. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

“Would you two focus?” Charlie said without turning around.. “We’re here on official business. Not leisure.”

Thomas stook his chin up. “Who’s to say it can’t be both?”

The three Pokemon stood atop a cobblestone tower overlooking the square. Its height stretched five stories tall, barely above the neighboring structures. Built right below was an inconspicuous shop,  nestled off on a side street teeming with pokemon displaced by the square’s demonstration. The same mass—the one which had attempted to shoot a fireball at Andrew’s face, had gathered again for another protest.

Andrew, Charlie, and Thomas, watched from the spire’s top story, crammed into a room with a single open window with a tight view. Andrew and Charlie remained glued to the spectacle while Thomas scribbled away in his notebook. Their gazes turned stone cold as they watched the amalgamation of Pokemon converse in their usual manner of yells and incohesion.

“Shut up. He’s getting into position,” Charlie barked at Thomas as he narrowed his eyes.

A podium had been erected not unlike the one Andrew had been inaugurated on, causing the Marshstomp to rub his temple.

Come on! Am I really so cool that everyone has to imitate me? I guess so. Oh well…

A familiar Quilava trotted up onto the stage on all fours. When his  head and rear became ignited in flames, the Pokemon in the tower all let out a collective sigh.

“My dearest, fellow Pokemon!” Leo called out from the few feet he was elevated. “You’ve come from far and wide, from this nation’s great capital city to its farthest outskirts and backwaters. I welcome everyone to our rally against the evil that is plaguing our land. Worse than any famine or war, the disease that is Andrewism!”

Thunderous cheers surged from the crowd, flaring up every time the Quilava made some sort of witty remark. 

“The social fabric of our great nation has fallen to pieces. Up has become down, left has become right. I like to think… I used to think there was some sense of justice. Arceus up above, surely he would protect us?”

Charlie smirked. “Arceus? I knew these guys were a bit crazy, but seriously?”

“Who’s Arceus protecting them from?” Andrew laughed.

Thomas patted his head with a vine, while still taking notes with the other. “You, I guess. It is pretty silly.”

“From me?” Andrew’s face curled into a twisted smile. “I guess it is.”

Leo continued. “But I’ve learned things the hard way. Arceus works in strange ways, and our great deity would not betray the citizens of Grandeport by destroying our enemy for us. No! This is our fight to win!” Once again the crowd erupted in cheers.

The Marshtomp sighed. “Why can’t I have a giant crowd of Pokemon who go ballistic whenever I talk.”

“You aren’t exactly the most out-there Pokemon, Andrew,” Charlie remarked, shrugging.

I’m not exactly a Pokemon either, asshole.

“Trust me, Andrew,” Thomas said softly. “It’s better to live a private life. All that attention would be too much for me.”

“It’s not too much for him.”

Charlie scoffed. “What are you? Jealous of that guy because he’s got a hoard of Pokemon who scream whenever he says some pseudo-spiritual crap?”

Thomas scowled, looking up from his notebook. “He’s not jealous.”

“He sounds pretty jealous to me,” Charlie murmured.

“You do realize I’m right here, right?” Andrew sat down, Thomas’ vine again finding its way to his head.

The Raichu brought a paw over his mouth as if to shush them. Murmuring, “It’s starting again.”

“Arceus has bestowed his power upon all of us! His energy rests within our mortal souls, he truly has given us the ability to fight against the Marshtomp. We’ve made him cower! We’ve made him run! And that’s the least of what we’ve done. Fellow Pokemon,” he stood up on his hind legs, raising his forelegs. “We will make him pay!”

The crowd raved and stuck up their own appendages with their leader. Twisted frowns came upon the Pokemon on the streets below, a steady flow of them trying to get as far from the square as possible.

Andrew laughed, pointing at a family—two Blastoises and three Squirtles scampering away from the commotion, “They look happy.” his voice dripped with sarcasm.

“This was expected.” Charlie scratched behind his ear. “Let the ordinary citizens see how great these Pokemon really are.”

The Servine flipped a page in the notebook, eyeing the protesters. “I’m going to write quite the story about this event. I’ll make sure every Pokemon in this country knows exactly what’s happening here and how horrible it is.”

“I’m worried about this.” Andrew felt the chill of the room, a shiver going down his back.

Charle’s tail waved in excitement. “What’s there to worry about? They’re just embarrassing themselves. This is going to help us if anything.”

“They’re violent! They tried to kill me… twice! And these gatherings have been happening pretty frequently since the guild closed. What if you hadn’t pulled me away from that fireball?” He cried, crouching down so the window was no longer in view.

The Raichu rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. You’re a water type—you would have survived that fireball just fine, albeit with a nasty burn.”

“What if they kill me in my sleep?” He wrapped his flipper around his legs and curled into a fetal position. “How would you save me if they drove a knife through my back?!”

Thomas crouched down to meet Andrew’s level, speaking softly. “Andrew, it’s alright. Nobody is going to attack you.”

He threw his flippers up into the air. “They already have!”

The Servine smiled wearily. “Well… attack you successfully.”

“How reassuring.” 

“Enough,” Charlie interrupted. “Thomas, keep writing this down. I need the most scathing news article ever concocted by Pokemon kind. And Andrew, get up from under there! You’re not a Mudkip.”

Thomas humphed, standing back up and again focusing his attention on the bumbling Quilava. Andrew grumbled. Yeah, because you’re the boss Charlie. Everyone looooooooooooves you.

He turned back around to find Leo’s speech had hardly ceased.

“…And of course such actions are inexcusable! Mirage at least knew how to stay out of our business most of the time. Nobody likes taxes, but I’d take them any day over the tyranny of Andrewism. So where am I going with this you ask?”

Andrew fidgeted with his gill. “Oh yes, wouldn’t we all like to see where this is going?”

“If our government is a purely evil entity, one emboldened and puppeteered by Giratina, then how can we allow it to exist? Is this what you want?”

“No!” the protesters yelled as an angry collective.

Leo grinned. “I thought so too! This only leaves us one option, fellow Pokemon! We have to overthrow the government! We have to kill Andrew!”

The crowd cheered and raved like they always did. But, this was different. Instead of droning on in nonsense screaming and hollering, the collective quickly organized into one clear statement. .

“Kill the Marsh-tomp! Kill the MARSH-tomp! KILL THE MARSH-TOMP!” They cried again and again.

A noise began to echo through the room that their target and the Raichu were in. Charlie, of all Pokemon… began to laugh! Pure, childish laughter leaped out the Raichu’s mouth and filled the chamber.

Thomas too let out a soft chuckle. Confusion assaulted Andrew’s mind, what’s so funny? Why are they laughing? They want to kill me!

But he, too, also started laughing. Andrew’s laugh was not nearly as carefree as the others. It was forced, jarring, not even something which most would consider to be a laugh. His face contorted into a weak smile as the three of them laughed together.

Hahaha… “Why are we, ha, laughing?” Andrew asked, his chuckling coming to a stop as his expression turned serious and concerned. “Because they want to kill me. And that’s like, not very funny.”

Thomas’ tail wagged vigorously as he managed to speak between breaths. “Oh, Andrew. We’re not laughing because they want to kill you. We’re laughing because of how… delusional it is!”

“I’m laughing because they want to kill you!” Charlie howled before his balance failed him causing the orange rat to roll on the floor. 

“Ha, yeah,” Andrew’s eyes darted. “Can we make it stop?”

Charlie rose back up to his feet, cocking his head to the side. “Make what stop?”

The Marshtomop pointed at the window.

“Oh yeah, that.” Charlie crossed his arms as the chanting began to devolve back into a mess of noise.

Andrew felt his breaths becoming heavy, staring at the Pokemon. He shut his eyes for a moment. The noise didn’t subside. 

The world didn’t slow.

His breaths got faster, his heart beat harder. 

“Stop! Stop! Make them stop!” he yelled. 

Thomas perked up. “Andrew—”

Andrew grabbed Charlie’s shoulders, grasping them tight and shaking the Raichu. “Send the police, guards, anything! Make them stop!”

“Arceus, fine!” Charlie pushed him off. “I’ll go tell the guards to break it up.”

Charlie trotted over to a stairwell in the back of the room and descended down, each wooden piece creaking under his weight. Thomas and Andrew were left alone.

Thomas placed his notebook and pencil into his satchel. Andrew had begun to pace the length of the room, though being careful to never stray too close to the window.

Thomas cleared his throat, before asking. “Andrew, are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m great!” he let out a nervous sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry. “Great, great, great! So great! Amazing! I’m great, Thomas.”

The Servine frowned, his eyes softening. “I know that this has been stressful for you. They might be crazy, but it makes sense that Pokemon saying they want to kill you would be bothersome.”

“Be bothersome? Really?” Andrew stomped his foot on the ground. “Do you understand what they are threatening, Thomas?”

The stomping of footsteps sounded from the stairwell as a ball of orange began to ascend.

Thomas reached a vine to Andrew’s palm. “I understand Andrew. I just don’t want you to focus on it. That’ll just make you more stressed. You’re safe.”

Charlie strutted back over to the window, resting his arms and head on the windowsill. “Look at that.”

“Look at what?” Thomas made his way over to the window. His eyes widened, and a cheerful grin came over his face. “Andrew, come here. You’ll like this.”

He grumbled but also looked out the window. A ring of gray appeared to be descending upon the square. The Bisharp guards—at least twenty of them, had formed an increasingly narrow ring around the protest.

“Oh, thank god,” Andrew breathed a sigh of relief.

The Bisharps pushed into the crowd and disappeared into the mess of color. There was an uproar, but not one of pride or determination. 

A Pokemon flew through the air.

Andrew couldn’t quite make it out. It was small and blue and was definitely not in the air of its own free will. It soon hit the ground with a yell before it ran off in the opposite direction from the tower.

A scramble started, the crowd pushed outward. More Pokemon were picked up by the Bisharps and chucked as far as they would go. A Charmeleon’s flaming tail left a brief trail of fire in the air, a Beautifly was thrown into the sky, flapping their wings as they ascended from the chaos.

Leo still stood on his podium but found himself no longer insulated by the surrounding crowd. A Bisharp appeared in front of the stage. Leo yelled something that Andrew could not make out, his flames growing.

The Bisharp climbed up. He utterly dwarfed Leo, his sharp blades glistening under the sun. Leo ran in the opposite direction—only for another Bisharp to block his path. He swerved to the left; another Bisharp appeared in front of him. Leo was surrounded.

Andrew smiled, his breathing had returned to normal. “Hey, this is pretty… relieving.” 

A sense of calm washed over him as all the Bisharps were now either on or surrounding the stage. The crowd had since dispersed into a loose mess of Pokemon, slowly but surely moving away as the square returned to normal.

Leo shot a fireball. It appeared as barely more than a red dot to Andrew and the others. His heart ticked up a beat, soon soothed by the metal-skinned Pokemon dodging effortlessly and picking up the Quilava by his hind legs.

He pawed at the air, punching, Andrew could see his mouth move but only imagine him yelling: ‘Unhand me! Put me down! I’ll do anything for you, please! I never should have messed with Andrew, why god? Why?!’

He smiled. The Bisharp reeled his strong arm back, before whipping it forward and releasing Leo into the crowd. Up he went careaning higher and higher into the sky—practically an angel soaring over the heavens. Only for gravity to grab hold of him and yank the Quilava back to reality.

He fell to the ground, somehow managing to land on his feet much to Andrew’s dismay. The Quilava swung his head back and forth, scampering in between Pokemon, down the road, and out of sight.

“See Andrew? He can’t hurt you.” Thomas leaned over to rest his head on Andrew’s shoulder.

The Marshtomp muttered. “They didn’t catch him.”

Charlie harrumphed. “The goal wasn’t to catch him. If we take this seriously, then it becomes serious.”

“How is this not serious? They tried to kill me! And you too.” Andrew waved his flippers, Thomas lifting his head back up.

The Raichu stepped back from the window. “I’m taking this very seriously, Andrew. But arresting this guy is just going to provoke these Pokemon and make this even more of a scene. Ignore it and this will soon fizzle out.”

“We just forced them to stop? How is that ignoring it?” he said, getting louder with each word.

Charlie shrugged. “That was your call. Not mine.”

---

“And I defend making that call! I don’t understand what you are all missing! They tried to kill me—they’d overthrow the government and chop off all of our heads if they had the means. So why are we allowing this? Why aren’t we killing them before they kill us?” Andrew slammed his fist down on the table. 

He was in a meeting with the council, Charlie to his left and Felicia to his right. Eugene and Larry sat at the far left end of the table each with a look of disinterest spread across their respective maws and faces. 

To Felicia’s right sat Everett, as well as the Meowstic and Goodra police captains. At the center of the table sat Andrew. The room they were in was the one Charlie had brought him that fall to meet Mirage for the first time, and where he had been crowned police chief.

Now he sat in what was once Mirage’s chair. It was far too large for him, and his simple bowtie didn’t recapture the stunning glare that must have reflected off Mirage’s fur from the window above the entryway. Even if Andrew sat in the monarch’s chair, he shared the center of the table with Felicia. 

“Andrew, we’ll look foolish if we pursue this group actively.” The Lucario responded. “Plus, I don’t think it’s worth moving valuable soldiers standing guard at the border to be able to do so.”

The Marshtomp fumed. “Then don’t! We have plenty of officers here in the city, we can spare a few to stop these stupid Pokemon.”

“Numbers are tight, Andrew,” Everett sighed. “The amount of police it’d take to make a real impact would reduce our abilities to well… police.”

Andrew stood up on his chair and pointed at the Gholdengo. “Since when do you care about policing? I thought you were only in this for the money!”

“How dare you accuse me of such a thing!” Everett shot up from his seat. “I’ve always been in this to protect the people.”

His fingers curled into fists. “If that’s the case, then you’d be willing to dedicate some precious resources to doing so.”

The Goodra cleared his throat, butting into the conversation. “Recruitment rates have been on the decline for the past few years. I’m not sure we could defend the country without a draft should there be an invasion.”

“Well I don’t see anyone invading,” Andrew plopped back down, crossing his arms.

“And I see no threat posed by this organization, ” Larry said.

The Marshtomp grabbed at his head fin as a pressure began to build within him. “They tried to kill me twice! My god, does nobody care about that? Is attempting to murder me not enough to be a threat?”

“Priorities, Marshtomp,” Eugene bellowed. “Do not engage with them, and they’ll have no reason to do so with you.”

Andrew threw up his flippers. “I can’t deal with this. Charlie, back me up here. Let’s not forget they were just as close to hurting you.”

Charlie put his head down, murmuring. “Andrew, I’m sorry. It’s not worth pursuing this organization. Let them fizzle out and die. They aren’t the first of their kind, and they won’t be the last.”

“Fine! All of you! Be that way!” the Marshtomp got off his seat, stomping his way to the meeting room’s exit as all the high-ranking Pokemon watched on in silence. He gripped the side of the door and handle and looked back. “But don’t come asking for my help when some people are trying to kill you!”

He left the room and stormed down the hallway. Stupid Pokemon! What’s their deal? These people wanted to kill me! Charlie… Charlie was there! Unless—no. Could it be? Is he a part of it? Are they all a part of it?

Andrew paused, standing motionless. He placed a finger beneath his mouth. It’s not THAT crazy. Who was that guy? The one who always said to keep your friends close and your enemies closer? That’s what Charlie’s doing! He wants to kill me, which is why he made me President of Grandeport. It’s no secret what he does to this country’s leaders…

“No,” he whispered to himself.

He began walking down the hallway, finding the stairwell, and making the climb up to his office. Andrew entered the room with tired legs and an even more tired mind. He looked at the chair sized to his Marshtomp proportions and sat down.

“Now what?”

Nobody responded.

Light began to dull in the room as the sky began to darken. A vibrant, magnificent pink began to rise up from the tree-lined horizon. 

A weight came over Andrew’s head. His flippers spread across the desk, his head fell onto it. 

He yawned. Eyes growing heavy, Andrew drifted off to sleep…

---

“Oh, here again? It’s been a while.”

Andrew found himself in a void of sorts. It was ethereal, blue and purple splotches of color slowly drifting and shifting throughout the black abyss. He maintained his body; Andrew waved his flippers in front just to make sure, though.

He felt a strange vibration. It struck his head-fin. 

“Something is coming.”

And soon enough it did. Popping into existence out of the nothingness that surrounded him came three Thomas’. They were perfect replicas of the real Servine, all smiling that infamous cheery smile at the same time.

Andrew shuddered. Or, he thought he did. It was hard to tell exactly what was happening wherever he was.

“Hi Andrew!” they all said in tandem.

He narrowed his eyes. “Uh… hi?”

“Hi Andrew!” they repeated.

The Marshtomp began to float away from them, not controlling his movement. “H-Hello again? Can you tell me what’s happening?”

“No!”

“Real helpful,” he muttered.

He was drifting further and further from the Thomas’ clones Soon they were little more than three green dots indiscernible from the others, before disappearing back into the nothing from which they came.

The vibration hit him again, but different. It was greater—too great! His head-fin began to ache from the energy being poured onto it. Andrew swore he could feel it moving, almost as if something were trying to yank it off his head. 

Cracks began to form in the void. White lines grew and grew until pieces of the abyss began to fall and disappear into the growing white. Soon enough the color had completely inverted.

“Well, that’s fun.” 

This new void lacked any other non-white particles. Depth perception had become impossible, Andrew floated forward.

“Hello? Anyone?”

But he was left in total silence. 

“Is this like a dream or something?”

“This si a maerd, yes. But eht real noitseuq si who ma I?” boomed a voice, coming at Andrew from all directions.

The Marshtomp swung his head around. “Who’s there?” 

Upon looking back at where he had been, he found something new standing there. The being itself was huge. Astronomical, dwarfing Grandeport Castle and maybe even the entire city should he have been the one standing there.

The being was quadrupedal, standing on four legs tall as towers with shining gold tips at the bottom. Its white torso was contrasted with a dark underbelly which continued until the end of the creature’s equally magnificent tail.

Around its torso was a ring made up of the same gold as its feet. It stretched out at least half the being’s length, forming two perpendicular lines of gold connected by arches on the left and right sides of the ring. Each intersection was home to a shiny green gem.

Finally, the creature’s large neck stretched stories into the sky. The gray underbelly rose halfway up its neck before the neck transitioned back into the same white as most of the torso. Its head seemed to have its own tail of sorts, stretching back dozens of meters and with the same gray underneath. Its texture mirrored that of the torso having white on top and gray on the bottom which stretched onto the creature’s face.

The being had no mouth. Two green eyes with red pupils dominated its ginormous face, that had circles of the same green underneath.

“Wh-What?” Andrew uttered, at a total loss for words. He had to crane his neck as upward as it would go to even be able to meet the being’s eyes. From his perspective, he could not see the being in its entirety.

“I know uoy era probably etiuq confused, read dlihc.”

Andrew felt his head-fin vibrating uncontrollably in the being’s—Arceus’ presence. “I know… probably, confused read? I don’t understand.”

“You lliw ton understand me. I wonk ti lliw take time rof you ot adjust. Your life lliw noos egnahc rof eht retteb.” 

“Wait, hold on,” Andrew held out his flippers at Arceus. “It’ll take time for you to adjust my life? I don’t want my life to be adjusted.” 

“I was gnipoh uoy dluow eb elba ot understand me, tub I miscalculated. Uoy tusm og won, I od ton want ot hurt you.” 

His eyes widened. His heart—if he still had one, began to beat like crazy. “L-L-Look. I know I’ve made my mistakes, and I’m really sorry if you miscalculated. But nobody wins if you hurt me!”

Arceus gave a deep laugh. “Ouy humor me, dlihc. Run gnola now, go back ot eht dlrow fo ssensuoicsnoc.”

He ran.

Running may not have been the correct word. He floated as quickly as he could away from Arceus. He felt the vibrations assaulting his head fin began to lessen, Andrew looked over his shoulder to see the god gone.

“Man, what the hell is—”

---

Andrew shot up from his desk, hitting his sensitive head fin against the back of the chair.

“Ow!” he cried out in pain.

Nursing the appendage, he immediately felt something different. His entire body felt sticky—a different type than he usually did. It was unpleasant and dirty, a feeling he couldn’t recall having felt so strongly since becoming a ground-type Pokemon. Looking down at the desk revealed a small pool of water where his head was. 

He got off the chair to reveal another pool where he had been sitting. The Marshtomp scratched the back of his head. “Man, that must have been quite the dream.”

Oddly enough, the memory remained vivid, refusing to disappear from Andrew’s mind.

“I was in some void, then a bunch of Thomas’ appeared, and I talked to Arceus.” he paused. “Did I just talk to Arceus?”

The sun had long since fallen from the sky. Andrew’s office was caped in darkness, the only light the bit from the moon that trickled in through the window. He crept over to the door and exited into the warmly lit hallway.

Walking, he thought out loud. “And he was talking weirdly. He wanted to adjust my life or something? Hurt me?”

“No, I couldn’t have spoken to Arceus, really. It was just a dream. Dreams are weird, and that’s not even closest to the weirdest I’ve had,” he mused. “But… Is that it? It was too sensical.”

Except for the dancing Thomas’.

“Well sure, but it still mostly made sense.”

The hallway opened into the foyer’s main stairwell. Bracing himself, he hopped down each oversized step so as to not tumble face-first onto the floor.

“But I’ve had a dream like this one before. Yes, I remember. Arceus… I think Arceus was there. He was saying things I couldn’t understand.”

That doesn’t mean anything. They were two different dreams, who cares if I remember them both?

“You seem to care quite a lot,” he laughed at himself. “God, I’m talking to myself. Aren’t I?”

Arceus, you mean.

He reached the bottom of the staircase. The Marshtomp sat down on the carpeted floor, taking a moment to rest.

“Look at me, I think I spoke to Arceus. I used to be a human, so like, it’s not that crazy. Right?” he yelled out.

The sound traveled through the hollow room, echoing, bouncing, and distorting as it hit each surface.

“Right?!” he repeated, even louder, as if someone were bound to respond.

But of course nobody responded, you maniac.

“You’re the maniac.”

And you’re the one talking to himself. You stupid Marshtomp. Marshtomp, that’s what you are! A crazy Marshtomp who thinks he’s talking to god. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Andrew sighed.

He stood back up and walked over to the giant doors. Beside them was a Bisharp guard beside either door, standing perfectly straight and not bothering to make any eye contact or movement he was in their presence. 

Quietly, Andrew asked, “May I leave?”

Each of them raised an arm. In perfect harmony, they banged their arms twice against their respective doors.

“Thanks.”

A low rumbling began. The doors began to push open into the foyer of the castle as Andrew began to step forward. Despite barely being open, in only a moment there was enough space for him to slip through.

It was night—cool, peaceful. Andrew took a deep breath of the night air as he began to make the trek back home.

Until suddenly, a sudden pain struck his head. It was unfamiliar and foreign. Yet still, oddly familiar, a sensation which Andrew had surely felt not long ago.

His head fin was vibrating.