Chapter 27: A Grilling Session

Noctum had flown with a passenger before. A passenger being the key.

He had not had to strap on a large, purple harness with two metal seats, knee pads, elbow pads, a helmet with holes for his horns, and a neon green vest with “Eterna City Poké Ride” scribbled across it in blocky letters.

Perhaps the most humiliating part about flying side by side with the strange hovercrafts was the small flag reading “TRAINEE” protruding from his backside and fluttering with the breeze. As if Noctum hadn’t flown without incident for years. Hell, he’d flown well while concussed the other week. But, sure, he had to act the part because the creepy alien zoroark told him to.

“So, tell me again why exactly we need to steal one of these uPhones.” Seifer sat fastened into one of the metal seats on the harness. Cyril sat beside him, back in his ice ninetales disguise. “Wouldn’t it be easier to do the legal thing and buy it?”

“Easier? Sure,” Cyril replied. “But it’d defeat the purpose.”

Horns blared behind Noctum. The charizard flinched, but steadied on while a jet black hovercar passed him on the left. It’s okay. I’m in the right lane, he told himself.

“And that purpose is?”

Cyril sighed. “If Boss Kitty’s intel is correct, the uPhone 33 has a special chip in it that the archbishop can use to track the phone’s movements throughout the Qliphoth.”

Noctum wondered why anyone would be putting food in their electronics, but kept that thought to himself.

“Couldn’t that be helpful?” Seifer wondered. “Like, if someone’s in danger, the authorities could locate them faster.”

“Sure. Or it could be used to expand the archbishop’s surveillance state,” Cyril growled. Fluffy tails brushed Noctum’s thigh and he tried his best to hold his laughter.

“H-Hey, keep your tails in your seat.” Noctum flapped his wings to keep the proper altitude.

“Right, sorry.” Cyril adjusted his position. “You’re going down at the light up ahead.”

Noctum saw traffic lights with rotom clearly inside of them. The light for his lane had arrows pointing down. He was happy he wouldn’t have to try changing lanes.

“Anyway, point is: I want to get my paws on one of those chips.” Cyril continued. “See if I can analyze it. Could prove useful for the rebellion.”

“I still don’t see why you can’t buy it,” Seifer huffed.

“The phones are activated once they’re purchased,” Cyril countered. “Meaning the chip would start tracking my movements. I need an inactive phone. And the only way to get that is from the factory, which happens to be under Flapple’s flagship store.”

Noctum slowly glided down toward the street. The bottoms of these buildings were much less impressive that what he’d flown past. They had varying layers of rust or patches of crystals growing on their front staircases and railings.

“And you really think we can break into some major company’s factory?” Seifer tapped a forehoof against his seat. Noctum glanced back at him and frowned. The keldeo offered an apologetic look.

“Us? No. But Zardy can,” Cyril replied.

Fortunately, Noctum touched down and shuffled toward the sidewalk, so he could properly react. “Wait, me? Look at me!” The seat harness made it impossible for him to grab his tail. “Charizard aren’t built for break-ins. My tail will give me away.”

Cyril hopped out of his seat. “Not if you Phantom Warp.”

Noctum froze. “Come again?”

“Phantom Warp.” Cyril pointed to the crystal in Noctum’s belly. “Don’t you remember how Boss Kitty got inside the charjabus?”

Noctum tapped his chin. “You mean, in a blur with all that distorted energy around him?”

“That’s the ticket.” Cyril fluffed out his tails. “I don’t see why you can’t do it, too. That’s why I took us here.” With three of his tails, he gestured toward an alleyway between two of the buildings. “Perfect place to practice.”

Seifer didn’t look convinced. “So, you’re telling me a charizard is going to teleport?”

A dry laugh greeted Seifer. “You’re a riot,” Cyril mused, rolling his eyes. “It’s not teleportation, it’s a Phantom Warp.” He held up a forepaw. “Like the name implies, you temporarily convert your body to Malice and phase out of existence to move several meters in any direction.”

Noctum jumped back in fright. “What? I don’t wanna disappear!”

“Relax, Zardy. I said ‘temporary.'” Cyril shook his head. “Fact is, there’s plenty of tech in Eternatus that blocks any and all attempts at teleportation.” He stepped toward the building on his left and place his forepaw against it. “But the Phantom Warp makes it so you’re nothing but an apparition. We’re talking dodging attacks, phasing through solid objects, and bypassing any pesky barriers Troopers use to stop psychics.”

Cyril pulled his forepaw away and looked at the grime on it with a frown. Shaking his forepaw out, he turned to Noctum, “So, what d’ya say? Why don’t you give it a try?” He jerked his head over his shoulder toward a wall with electrified razor wire on top of it. “Phantom Warp through that wall over there.”

Noctum looked up at the razor wire and whimpered. “Can’t I just fly over it? Besides, what if I get stuck in the wall?”

“Then it’ll have been an honor knowing you,” Cyril deadpanned. Seifer looked aghast at the ninetales, who shook his head. “Look, you and your buddies waltzing into the bazaar without ID looplets screwed up the plan Gene and I had. So, you’ve got to fix it.”

Noctum was willing to help, but using a new technique to do so unsettled him. Too many things could go wrong.

Cyril sighed again. “How about this? If you snag the uPhone, you can go back to Horizon Gardens immediately.”

“R… really?”

Cyril nodded. “Cross my heart.”

Seifer’s broken horn sparked. “Wait, what about me?”

“Sorry, pony-boy. You and I have to keep a low profile.” Cyril chuckled as Seifer’s face reddened. The ninetales stepped up to Noctum and produced a small clip. He fastened it to Noctum’s right horn with two of his tails.

“What are you doing?” Noctum wanted to swat the tails away, but Cyril was faster. He unhooked the buckles for Noctum’s harness and it dropped to the ground behind him.

“I gave you an X-transceiver, so we can stay in contact,” Cyril explained. “Now, get moving. Time’s a-wasting.”

Noctum stepped up toward the wall. On closer inspection, it was made of pure cobalt. It absorbed some of the razor wire’s glow. He looked down at the crystal in his chest, then back at the wall.

“Uh, what am I supposed to do here, exactly?”

Cyril shrugged. “How would I know?”

“Because you brought it up?” Seifer somehow looked even more exhausted than before.

“Just because I know it exists doesn’t mean I can make it work,” Cyril retorted. “That’s Gene’s department. And he’s not here.”

Noctum pinched his brow. Why couldn’t Valkyrie be the one with the stomach crystal? Guilt over that thought immediately followed. Sighing, Noctum widened his stance and crouched down. He extended his arms toward the wall.

“Kah!” Noctum thrust his hands forward. Nothing happened.

He tried again. Nothing happened.

“Dash!” Noctum flicked his wrists. Nothing happened.

“I will say this, Zardy. Gene never shouts to get it to work,” Cyril deadpanned.

Groaning, Noctum’s shoulders sagged. He was doing the best he could under the circumstances. But this could be my ticket home. So, he needed to focus.

Noctum’s brow furrowed. He concentrated on his body. Every twitch of every muscle. The air moving through his nostrils with each breath he took.

It was then that something tugged on Noctum’s gut. It was cold and slimy, like a huntail. Noctum concentrated on that unfamiliarity. Then a tingle spread over his entire body. Instinct told him to dive forward. Noctum thought he spread his wings, but there wasn’t any actual movement. The dark purple tint of the city blurred all around him.

Within seconds, Noctum stumbled forward, his world spinning. After the dizziness settled down, Noctum found himself staring down a different alleyway. There were metal fire escapes sticking out from the buildings on either side of him. A neon billboard in the distance cast a golden glow along the alley from a stylized G in its center.

For all your home appliance needs, trust Galactic Appliances… for the win!

“Hey, Zardy, you still in one piece?”

“Gah!” Noctum jumped at Cyril’s voice. It was so prominent, yet the fake ninetales was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m talking to you through the X-transceiver, dummy.”

Noctum rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, I realize that now.”

“In any case, looks like you Phantom Warped. Congratulations, pats on the back, and all that jazz. Now do it a few more times so you can get the rhythm down.”

It was hard for Noctum to feel good with Cyril’s halfhearted compliment. “Right. Just give me a second.”

Noctum was sure this long day was only going to get longer.

The path to the Rebel Grill, advertised as “Guzzie’s” by an electronic sign, was another moving walkway surrounded by a glass tube. Valkyrie easily could’ve stomped along and been there in no time flat, but she opted to hang back. The only grilling she wanted was of what happened to Quetzal to bring him to Horizon Academy in the first place.

His answers were far from helpful. All he could recall was a giant Phantom with a bird mask that effortlessly defeated him with Dynarockfall, killed Crowne Minister Douglas, uprooted the Needle in his mansion, and morphed him into the form he currently occupied. After that, he woke up in Eterna City beside Seifer.

Valkyrie looked out at the expanse of stars and auroras. After a bit of silence, she said, “Makes you feel pretty small, doesn’t it?”

Quetzal shuffled awkwardly on the moving walkway. “I suppose. Does it upset you?”

“Hardly.” Valkyrie rubbed her snout with her forearm. “Soldier. Bodyguard. At the end of the day, we both live to follow orders. Cogs in the machine.”

Still, Valkyrie wondered how much she’d missed back in Radiance. There was that big trial happening. One way or another, the outcome would lead to some sort of job from her handlers. And here she was, stuck in the very same spirit realm whose existence she shrugged off long ago.

“What should we do now?” Quetzal wondered.

“We find that dumb cat,” Valkyrie replied, stepping off the moving walkway. Another circular doorway slid open to reveal a circular room bathed in the glow of purple lights. There were three levels of the room, with the first in the center comprised of several tables and purple benches surrounding a mechanical tauros. There was a pale human in a plaid shirt and jeans sitting atop it, holding on for dear life.

The garchomp stepped into the restaurant for a better view. Some of the nooks on the third level with her had brightly-flashing arcade machines. Others had PV screens… or whatever the hell the Eternatus equivalent was. She even spotted a pinball table, “Revenge of the Black Knight,” in the far-left corner, next to the bar. Said bar had its own luminescent glow, as did the jukebox to the right of it.

“Namaste… and peace be with you, travelers.”

Valkyrie turned right and recoiled. “The hell—”

A massive, gaping maw full of razor-sharp teeth towered over her. It was like a damned portal!

Valkyrie hopped back, brandishing her claws at the two black pincers stuck out of the mouth. One waved, the other held a tray with fizzy beverages glowing different shades of orange.

Quetzal puffed out his feathers. “N… nice daemon. I don’t actually taste like poultry!”

“Ah, Guzzie is the first guzzlord you have laid eyes on.” He stepped back, allowing Valkyrie to see a smaller set of black arms and a tiny black head between two pointed horns. Guzzie’s small, yellow eyes were guilty. “Guzzie does not want violence. Please forgive Guzzie.”

“Uh-huh.” Valkyrie shot a scathing look at Quetzal. If this was who Seifer hired, no wonder he got sacked for ineffectiveness. “So, you’re the guy whose name’s on this joint?”

Guzzie nodded. “Guzzie is head chef for Rebel Grill. Guzzie wants to give tired travelers smiles in their bellies.” He turned to his right. “Or at least some respite from meanie archbishop.” His smaller arms shrugged. “Can Guzzie bring you to table?”

Though food sounded good, Valkyrie had more pressing matters. “Actually, we’re looking for Gene. He brought us here, then took off without us. Any idea where he is?”

“Yes.” Guzzie’s sigh was loud enough to make the floor rattle under Valkyrie’s feet. He scratched his tiny head. “Gene got into shouting match with angry chatot pirate. Guzzie told them to take it outside.”

Valkyrie quirked a brow. “Outside meaning?”

“Junior’s Slaughterplex.” Guzzie pointed right. Valkyrie followed his pincer where, outside the massive glass wall, a giant arena platform hovered in place. There were even floating bleachers filled with spectators. Some cheering, others looking bored. All the bleachers had large projection screens offering Valkyrie a good view of the action.

Three dragalge floated below Gene, each with gray armor and helmets adorned by a tyrantrum skull and crossbones. They shot Dragon Pulses from their snouts in unison. Gene summoned a glowing pink spoon and twirled it rapidly. The resulting barrier deflected the blue bolts effortlessly.

“What do you zink you are doing?!” a small, colorful bird with a music note head, eyepatch, and pegleg shouted, waving his wings around. Valkyrie figured this was the chatot thing Guzzie mentioned. “Stop attacking in unison! You are only making it easier for him!”

“We be trying our best, Gilbert!” the dragalge closest to the chatot fired back, only for Gene to appear right in front of him. The mewtwo grabbed him and pivoted, using Dragalge as a meat shield against the incoming Dragon Pulses. Dragalge went limp. Gene hurled him at the pirate on his right. Both dragalge rolled into an unconscious pile on the edge of the arena.

Gilbert facepalmed while the remaining dragalge tried to flee. Gene closed the distance in an instant and smacked Dragalge with his glowing tail. Dragalge went careening out of the arena to thunderous applause from the crowd, interspersed with a few jeers.

Quetzal jumped in surprise when Dragalge slammed into the glass wall. “That one… shivered me timbers,” he wheezed before sliding off the glass.

“Okay, well, looks like we found him.” Quetzal shuffled uneasily. “Can we go home now?”

“Oh my! And Gene has effortlessly dispatched the Blackskull Buccaneers!”

Valkyrie trotted forward, ignoring Quetzal calling out to her. She spotted a miniature version of Guzzie standing atop a hover platform and holding a microphone. “Who could have possibly seen this development coming?” he declared. “Oh, right, everyone. How utterly booooring. Little Guzzie demands more violence! More bloodshed! Agree with me, my peanut gallery! Agree!“

While the crowd applauded, Gene pointed a sparking index finger at Gilbert. “Well, bud, looks like it’s just you and me. Gonna face me yourself or what?”

Gilbert’s good eye widened. He looked left, then right. The chatot grabbed his right wing. “Ah, sacré bleu! I have sprain-ed my wing!” Gilbert collapsed on his back. “Oh, ze cruelty! Alzough I could have ze kicking of your posterior with ze ease, I am in no fit state for ze fighting.”

Valkyrie rolled her eyes, as did Gene.

“But have no fear, mon ami!” Gilbert hopped back to his feet. “My less attractive stunt double will battle in my stead!” He tilted his head up. “Oh, Jacques!”

The floor once again rumbled. Even the floating arena was shaking. Gene crouched down, but was blindsided when what looked like a white wrecking ball careened into him from behind. The mewtwo rolled across the arena, the Malice Crystal in his shoulder kicking up sparks.

As Gene struggled to his feet, the wrecking ball uncurled, revealing an off-looking aggron. Valkryie pressed her arms into the glass. His normal gray pelt was covered in a layer of thick white armor. He slammed his white-ringed tail on the ground and raised his spiked forearms into the air.

“Come and get some, kitty!” Jacques roared.

Valkyrie sucked in a sharp breath.

It can’t be… trance?!

Those kinds of transformations were meant to be the result of mastering control over Dynaforce! Why could some dead aggron pull it off?

“That was a cheap shot,” Gene grumbled, grabbing his head and twisting it slightly. “Guess I’m just going to have to return the favor.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Jacques squared up his stance and punched the arena floor. Stone Edge spires shot up in waves. Gene went airborne, effortlessly floating past them. With a smirk and grunt, however, Jacques slammed his glowing tail into the rocks. His Iron Tail shattered the rocks. Shards careened through the air.

Rolling his eyes, Gene stuck his left hand forward. “Did you forget who you’re dealing with here?” With his eyes glowing blue, Gene captured every shard in his telekinetic grasp and returned them to their sender.

“Idiot! Look up!” Valkyrie shouted, before remembering she was in the restaurant and there was no way he’d hear her. Nevertheless, Gene realized that Jacques had leaped into the air and was looking to drive a glowing fist right into his skull.

She wasn’t going to let her way home evaporate in some godforsaken death arena. Valkyrie spotted a staircase tucked away behind the bar and sprinted toward it. Hooking her left arm on the railing, the garchomp slid down it with ease. She arrived on a grated metal platform. In fact, there was an entire crisscrossing network of metal walkways under the arena. The dragalge Gene had knocked out of the arena lay in a crumpled heap to Valkyrie’s right.

“What an intense stalemate!” Junior’s shrill voice drew Valkyrie’s attention back to the arena. Gene still floated in the same spot as before, eyes brimming bright blue. A similar glow surrounded Jacques, who was fighting against Gene’s telekinesis.

What’s that idiot doing? Valkyrie dashed along one of the walkways leading to the grandstands on the left of the arena. Fling Aggron away!

“Ha ha ha!” Gilbert’s pegleg clunked against the metal arena floor. “What is ze matter, kitty? Is ze mega evolution proving too much for you? Zere is no shame in zrowing in ze towel.”

Gene was straining. The smirk Valkyrie barely made out on Jacques’ face told her that much. Was there something else going on? Something Gene hadn’t accounted for?

She couldn’t sit by. She had to strike. Neither pirate was aware of her. Valkyrie had a clear view of Jacques’ right side. If she could only find a vulnerable spot. Something. Anything.

There!

It was subtle. A small chink in the back right part of Jacques’ neck. However, that was all Valkyrie needed. She hopped up on the railing behind her and angled her mouth at Jacques.

Deep breath. Focus on the target. Don’t overthink it.

Tightening her neck and jaw muscles, Valkyrie spat a small but brilliant Dragon Pulse beam. It struck the crack in Jacques’ neck. His smirk melted away. The aggron’s face twisted in agony. And that was all Gene needed.

The stalemate broke. Gene telekinetically slammed Jacques into the ground. The arena rumbled above Valkyrie. She hopped off the railing to keep her footing, locking eyes briefly with Gene. He then took the opportunity to hurl an Aura Sphere into Jacques’ face. Then another. And another.

After the fourth Aura Sphere, the aggron stopped writhing in pain.

“What is this? A sudden intrusion in Gene’s favor?!”

The hover platform Junior stood atop quickly found its way to Valkyrie, as did a few rotom drones. Her stoic expression was on the arena’s big screens for everyone to see. There was a mixture of gasps and jeers from the audience.

“My, my. What a feisty looking garchomp!” Junior spoke into his jewel-encrusted microphone. “Could it be you wish to try your claws in Little Guzzie’s Arena… of Dooooom?!”

“Hardly.” Valkyrie huffed out dragonfire. “That dweeb is my ride home.” She jerked her head in Gene’s direction.

“Oh ho! So, bot-bashing Gene has found himself a new squeeze.” Junior rubbed his two upper pincers together. “Swoon over the weird couple, audience. Swoon, I say!”

Valkyrie ignored the audience’s laugher. She hopped up to Junior’s hover platform and used it to glide safely onto the arena, where Gilbert was fretting over the unconscious Jacques. “Beat it, pipsqueak,” she growled. “Gene and I have business.”

Gilbert looked up. Immediately, a sheen took over his good eye. “Pipsqueak? Mmm.” He climbed onto Jacques’ belly. “I will let zat insult slide, for you, mademoiselle, are one part handful and two parts oooh-la-la.”

“That so?” Valkyrie slammed her tail against the arena floor. “Maybe I should hurl you into the restaurant wall like Gene did to your buddy.”

“Aha ha.” Gilbert nearly fell off Jacques. “I am zinking not. But know zis, Mademoiselle Chomp… Chatot Gilbert, first mate extraordinaire, is never one to shy away from a beauty like yourself.” He slowly bowed, using the wing he claimed was broken. “We shall meet again. But for now, I bid you adieu.”

Two rotom drones had finished putting Jacques onto a stretcher and flew off with the aggron and Gilbert in tow. Gene then walked up to Valkyrie, slowly applauding.

“Quite the performance.” The mewtwo grinned at her. “I daresay you’ll make a fine rebel.”

“Cut the crap.” She held a claw up to Gene’s chin. “You’re sending me home. Now.“

“Yeeeeah.” Gene pressed a finger to Valkyrie’s claw and pushed it away. “See, that’s not a good idea.”

Valkyrie bared her fangs. “Why not?”

Smirking, Gene grabbed Valkyrie’s head and turned it so she could see Quetzal pacing in the restaurant’s glass wall.

“Because the last thing you want is for me to open a rift here and walk a Radiant Guardsmon straight into the Ryujin’s secret underground city.” Gene twisted Valkyrie’s head back. There was a red glint in his eyes. “After all, once they realize you’re the lone Citadark escapee, they’ll give you the needle and you’ll be stuck here for good.”

Valkyrie tensed. “How did—”

Gene flashed his canines. “People like us know how to get to the bottom of things effortlessly. Isn’t that right… Prisma?”

“That’s it, then?”

Vortex leaned over a plain tan conference table to look at a projection. It had a map of Venish, with its crisscrossing canals leading out to sea east of the city. One part on the top right of the map had a large purple spiral in it; the distortion given off by the disappeared Needle. Dashed red lines ran through the water, thankfully not reaching the city or its canals.

A barraskewda’s head flopped up and down. He nearly lost the white sailor’s hat that was clearly too large for his arrow-shaped head. “Yes. As far as we know, anyway.”

“As far as you know,” Vortex parroted. He sat down on a metal chair, poking his tail through a gap in the back. “I’ve not seen reports of any delays for our ships.”

“Correct again, sir.” Barraskewda curled his ventral fins up. “But the poisons are spreading. And they’re definitely coming from where the Needle used to be.” He floated up to the table, picked up a small remote, and pressed a button. “If we can’t find a way to contain it, this is where we predict the poison will reach by tomorrow.”

The map shifted so the dashed red line was closer to the Venish coastline.

“And the next day.”

He clicked the button again. The dashed red line was now just a short distance away.

“And now the day you’re proposing I do my leg.”

One more click put the dashed line into Venish’s canals. Barraskewda looked down. “The starting point for the fishing portion is far enough away, sure, but this cuts into the proposed gondola route.”

Vortex got to his feet. The metal chair fell back with a clang. He rested his hands on the table, nearly digging into the plastic with his claws. “Then. Change. The. Route.”

Barraskewda looked at the map. Then back at Vortex. “But that could disrupt canal traffic even more than city commissioners planned. Not to mention Polaris transp—”

“I wasn’t asking you, Vincenzo.” Vortex balled his hands into fists. “I was telling you.” He straightened up and turned to Arianna and Tesla. The former scribbled away in her planner while the latter was transfixed on the map, expression unreadable behind his flickering goggles.

“We’re already scrambling to salvage this first leg,” Vortex continued. “We’re looking at having to issue partial refunds to people who purchased tickets to the Herbrides leg just to placate any complaints. I will not risk further profit for some prediction about toxins in the water. We’re not having the students swim out to sea.”

He held up an index finger. “One day. Change the route. You disrupt canal activity for one day… and that’s it. Then you can go back to figuring out what the deal is with this pollution.”

Tesla cleared his throat. He made several zzt noises while Vortex turned to him with a sigh, “What is it?”

“Well, sir, I believe my genius can put together an effective buffer.” A robotic arm popped out of Tesla’s backpack and tapped the boltund’s head. “I just need some samples of the water from the more polluted areas.”

Vortex looked to Vincenzo. “Make it happen.”

The barraskewda nodded. His sailor hat fell to the floor. “Of course.” Vincenzo puttered up to Tesla. “If you’ll follow me.”

“Lead the way, old chum!”

With a hearty laugh, Tesla followed Vincenzo out of the conference room, making vrrts and zzrts with every step he took.

Vortex pinched his brow. “What next, Arianna?”

The gardevoir looked around the room. “We should return to your office in Horizon, sir.” She nudged her glasses up. “Tesla’s moved construction on the genesect schematics I… designed into full production. He thinks they might be ready to replace Radiant Guardsmon within a week or two.”