Time seemed to overlook this quiet, forgotten castle once more, leaving it in stillness until the Misdreavus, resting beside its crumbling walls, was roused by the thunderous collapse. Steelix-driven bulldozers and Machamp-guided excavators carefully tore through every patch of the castle grounds. The Misdreavus gazed helplessly at the chaos unfolding before her; she could send shivers down the spines of wandering Trainers, but she had no power to restore her shattered home.
What followed blurred into disjointed fragments, flickering like memories warped by the Misdreavus's solitude and grief.
Luther found himself caught in a fractured dream, pieced together in jagged shards. He saw the Misdreavus clashing with unfamiliar Trainers, their Poké Balls glinting in the fray. He glimpsed a mysterious figure tying a shimmering, gem-studded ribbon around her wispy form. Then, he watched her unleash her fury, tearing through her surroundings before vanishing into the moonlit night. Night after night, she roamed the forest, restless and sleepless. Yet, he also saw her tenderly sheltering abandoned Pokémon, curling up with a flock of fellow Misdreavus for warmth.
The dreamscape of healing twisted into a rising haze of mist.
Luther's eyes welled with tears as he gazed at the Misdreavus, words trembling on his lips, only to be swallowed back down.
He recalled a fleeting moment in a flower-strewn courtyard, where a young girl gently ran her hand over the Misdreavus's ethereal shape.
Tentatively, Luther extended his hand, only to falter and let it fall.
After a long, heavy pause, Luther slapped his own cheek, met the Misdreavus's gaze, and slowly rested his hand atop her head.
Her ghostly form offered no sensation of touch, and the mist encircling Luther began to thin and fade.
Luther stared blankly at the whitening void around him as the Misdreavus's shape dissolved into the air, a rush of discordant noises crashing into his exhausted mind.
"You're awake! You're awake!"
A familiar voice pierced through the haze. Luther forced his eyes open, and Sachiko's beaming face came into focus.
Bandages coiled around Luther's hands and feet, a splint braced his arm, and a tight pressure gripped his forehead, hinting at layers of gauze wrapped beneath.
A basket of Oran Berries, a bouquet of Gracidea flowers, and his trusty backpack sat at the foot of his hospital bed. Suddenly, the healing trio— Jumpluff, Ralts, and Marill— leaped into his arms with reckless glee.
It was a disaster; their eager pouncing aggravated Luther's injuries, drawing a sharp yelp of pain. Sachiko swiftly scooped the trio off the bed.
"How long was I out?"
"Two days, two whole days," Sachiko answered. "The doctor said you had some scratches on your back, but after patching you up that night, they figured it wasn't too bad. They just couldn't explain why you wouldn't wake up."
"Professor Rowan heard about your tumble and raced over that night. Can you imagine the rescue team's shock when they found over twenty fainted Pokémon scattered by the creek? Everyone was on edge. Before I got here, I tried to lighten the mood with the Professor, joking that you might've set a record for the shortest Trainer journey ever. But then I saw you sprawled out, scratched up and bleeding on the ground."
Lude managed a weak, wry smile, then a spark of memory jolted him.
"What about those Pokémon?"
"Oh, they're all patched up at the Pokémon Center now. They were a little wary at first, but with Houndoom's stern glare, they settled down. Four of the wild ones you looked after decided to stick with the Professor."
"Let me guess, Quagsire, Lopunny, Noctowl, and Pachirisu, right?"
"How'd you know?"
Luther's smile softened; he felt a quiet gratitude toward those four wild Pokémon who'd had his back. He hadn't expected Professor Rowan's knack for bonding to shine so brightly, convincing them to join the Research Lab while he was out cold.
Not even a sip of Moomoo Milk for him in all that time!
Luther's grin lingered briefly before fading. After a pause, he asked, "And the Misdreavus?"
Sachiko's sunny expression dimmed into something somber. "She still hasn't woken up… Her checkup showed nothing major, but she's been in a deep sleep. The Professor thinks she's dreaming. The machines say her emotions are all over the place in there, like she's trapped in a nightmare."
A Pokémon caught in its own dreams?
It sounded far-fetched, but Luther, who'd glimpsed that lonely castle alongside her, couldn't laugh it off. All he felt was a quiet, aching sadness.
This creature, forced from her home and battered by the world, hadn't known joy since that girl's gentle touch, leaving all her fleeting happiness locked in a dream.
Luther struggled to sit up. Sachiko moved to stop him, but seeing the resolve in his eyes, she shifted to steady him instead. She always knew when to step in or step back.
With shaky, uneven steps, Luther followed Sachiko to the Pokémon Center's observation room next door. Through the glass, he saw the Misdreavus, tangled in a web of wires, while a nearby monitor traced a rhythmic wave of peaks and dips.
Her face was still twisted in distress, brows furrowed in pain.
A pair of hands clapped gently onto Luther's shoulder. A middle-aged man in a weathered brown coat, clad in an old-school suit beneath, approached with a tired but warm expression.
"Hold on, who are you?" Sachiko stepped forward, nudging Lude back from the stranger.
"I can't reveal my name for certain reasons, but everyone just calls me 'Looker,'" The middle-aged man said, fishing a worn document from his coat pocket. The paper bore a gleaming badge and official text marking him as an international police officer.
Luther's eyes widened slightly. He knew that title— and even the man behind it, "Looker."
In the Pokémon world, the International Police were a renowned force, tasked with rooting out sinister organizations and their schemes across countless regions. From what Lude recalled, this weathered man known as Looker was the most famous officer of the bunch, often spotted chasing leads in the public eye.
But why was an International Police officer tracking 'him' down? Did the old Luther have some shady past he didn't know about?
"Given the sensitive nature of this matter, might this charming young lady give us a moment?" Looker asked with a polite nod.
Sachiko caught the hint of something serious brewing and, with her usual knack for reading the room, slipped out of the observation area without a fuss.
Once he was sure they were alone, Looker pulled a jagged shard of a gem from his pocket, its faint red glow pulsing in his palm as he held it out for Luther to see.
"We found this last night near the creek where you tangled with that Misdreavus. Its unusual makeup caught Professor Rowan's eye, so he alerted the Pokémon League, and they sent word to me since I was in the area. Tell me, does this gem ring any bells for you?"
Lude took the crimson shard, turning it over in his hands for a closer look before giving a small nod.
"Yeah, it was part of a decoration hanging on the Misdreavus when I first saw her. It shattered when we stopped her from hurting herself."
Looker's face grew stern. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and started pacing in front of Lude, his boots tapping softly against the floor.
"So… what 'is' this gem, exactly? What's it got to do with the Misdreavus losing control?" Luther couldn't shake the feeling they were linked and pressed for answers.
Looker paused mid-step, glanced at the watch strapped to his wrist, and let out a quick sigh. "No time to dive into the details now. Professor Rowan will fill you in later. All I'll say is you pulled off something incredible— that Misdreavus owes her rescue to you."
With that, Looker turned and hustled off, leaving Luther staring blankly at the mesmerizing shard glimmering in his hand.
After lingering outside the observation room for what felt like ages, Sachiko returned with Professor Rowan in tow and settled beside Luther.
"The International Police stopped by?" Professor Rowan asked, his voice calm but curious.
Luther nodded.
"Any guesses about that gem?"
"Maybe… a tool to manipulate Pokémon behavior?" Luther had mulled over a few ideas while sitting there and tossed out the one that felt most plausible.
Professor Rowan gently lifted the shard from Luther's palm, then reached into his own pocket to retrieve another fractured piece, placing it in Sachiko's hand.
Lude toyed with the fragments, piecing them together until he noticed something odd— faint, polished etchings and grooves lining the inner surfaces. No natural gemstone could bear such intricate designs.
"There's something 'inside' it, isn't there?" Luther asked, his voice tinged with shock.
"Exactly," Professor Rowan replied, his expression darkening with disdain. "They hid a device within the gem— a mechanism that boosts Pokémon moves by stimulating their nerves with radio waves. It's banned research. Over time, amplifying their power like that erodes their reasoning and self-control, reducing them to mindless puppets that lash out on command."
Luther's grip on the shards faltered, his hands trembling. He steadied himself, pushing down the ache, and rose to press against the observation room's glass, gazing at the still-unconscious Misdreavus.
"Most ethical researchers wouldn't touch this kind of work," Professor Rowan continued. "But a handful of reckless fools perfected it anyway. They use these devices in shadowy Pokémon battles, betting rings, even feral combat setups. Those obsessed with raw power can't get enough of them. The Pokémon League's crackdowns kept them at bay for years— long enough that folks started to forget. And now, here they are again."
Luther's fists tightened, the sting in his palms no match for the anger simmering inside him.
"Don't you think that's going too far?"
Professor Rowan sighed heavily. "These stragglers— these stains on our world— crop up even in the peace and harmony of the Pokémon regions. They're a tiny fraction of all the Pokémon fans out there… but too often, it's this small bunch that brings the most danger and pain to Pokémon and people alike."
"Sometimes the sun doesn't reach every corner of the world," He added softly.
Luther sank into a chair, head dipping low.
The abandoned Pokémon that had bonded with the Professor were clustered at the observation room's door, their worried eyes fixed on the motionless Misdreavus.
"Will she wake up?" Luther murmured.
Professor Rowan shook his head. "I can't say for sure. It's not just about 'if' she'll wake— it's whether she 'wants' to. She seems to have trapped herself in a dream. The machines show it's a nightmare, yet she won't break free… Maybe that nightmare feels kinder than the reality she's endured since."
With a nod from the Professor, Lude eased the observation room door open. The abandoned Pokémon darted inside, gathering around the Misdreavus's small bed, their hopeful gazes pleading for her to stir.
(End of Chapter)