From the Vast (Pokémon Fanfiction)

“Eeeeee, do you think she’ll draw me too, grandma?”

The shorter half of the family may have taken their time getting ready for the big event today, but once they were finally awake and sated, there was no extinguishing their combined enthusiasm. 

Cadence was busy showing that fact the clearest, having to keep herself from running literal circles around her grandma and brother. Hops, twirls and leaps, the sheer extent of the Kirlia’s excitement enough to overcome the biting cold of the winter morning. Or at least, enough when combined with Safeguard and a long scarf wrapped around most of her torso.

“You’ll have to ask her nicely, sweetie~,” Autumn answered.

“I will! It just sounds so cool, I wish I could draw...”

“I’m quite sure you already can draw, Cadence~!” Elric chimed in. The fairy stopped just to stick her tongue out at him—only for the Gligar to respond in kind, and much more effectively at that. Any other time of the year, and he’d be down roughhousing on the ground... but no, not in winter. 

Not when they were on their way towards the mysterious human, either.

“You know what I mean!” Cadence asserted.

The bat cackled as he leaped deftly from one wall to another, making the littlest member of the group join in on the giggles from his grandma’s arms. Bell’s very slow pace may have annoyed his sister when he took forever to catch up, but it also meant that any longer trips would be spent being held by a loved one. He squirmed for the umpteenth time that morning at how nice it all felt. Grandma holding him, a warm blanket around him, they would meet a new friend! What’s not to like?

“Maybe Anne will show Cadence how to draw?” he asked. He liked that idea, it made him happy to think about. Friends being nice to each other—and of course they’d be friends with the human! Grandma told them she was nice, and nice people meant friends.

“Nooooo, she doesn’t need to! I can’t draw, it’d just be a waste of time.”

“But would you want her to teach you?” the Gligar asked.

“She won’t be interested, Elric!”

“You don’t know that~,” Autumn teased, fizzling her granddaughter’s self-deprecating train of thought with a grumble. 

True, she didn’t know that, but c’mon! Anne wouldn’t wanna waste her time on someone who couldn’t draw at all; she’d have so many more interesting things to talk about! Humans could do so many weird, cool things—of course Anne would want to talk about those instead!

Before either Elric or Autumn could egg the Kirlia on, the entrance to the healer tent finally came into view. Cadence wasted no time before bolting straight ahead without a care in the world; the Indeedee’s call to wait getting stuck in her own throat and discarded soon after. Incorrigible, that one.

Her loved ones would not have it any other way.

The Gligar was only slightly behind his friend, getting him and Cadence all of thirty-odd seconds of head start in confusedly looking around the tent before Autumn and Bell caught up. No Aria, no Marco, the bed that the latter had slept in emptied and cleaned up. Hmm. The healers would probably know something.

“Esther? Do you know where Marco went?” the Indeedee asked, making the Blissey spare them all a brief look.

Tried as she might to fight it, her serious expression melted at the sight of the excited kiddos. “He and Aria left for some scout business, I’m quite sure. They haven’t gotten back yet.”

That much was clear. 

Autumn figured Marco would’ve gone with Aria, even if just to provide another vote in favor of letting Anne stay. Fingers crossed it all ended up working out. No way of knowing at the moment, though. Either way, Autumn’s own duty took precedence. Had to mentally prepare everyone else here for a wild human in their midst. Which meant...

“Alright. Cadence. Elric, can you both promise me you’ll wait here until Marco is back and don’t go rushing in on your own? Anne’s been through a lot. The least we could do is spare her further anxiety, don’t you say~?” Autumn asked, just in time to stop the Kirlia from peeking into the human’s room for herself. She sighed in relief at her emotional appeal working out, even if at the cost of making the older kids grow self-conscious about how would they come off to a complete stranger.

Nothing that some gentle affection couldn’t help with, especially when combined with Bell’s best efforts. Anything to make his family feel better, even if he didn’t quite understand why they were sad right now. He loved his family.

“Okay, grandma...” Cadence mumbled.

“Relax, stay out of the healers’ way, and wait for Marco. He should be here any moment now, okay?”

“Yes, grandma!” / “Yes, ma’am!”

Smiles, relief, hugs, a few more pats—Autumn could get out of the healer tent and on her way again. Her task was too important to waste any more time, though she wished she knew exactly how to go about all this. The one idea she came up with during breakfast would be a logistical mess and she doubted other teachers would be too approving of it, but—

“Autumn,” a flat buzz interrupted her train of thought. Her eyes narrowed as she turned to look at the source of the disturbance.

“I don’t have the time, Liz.”

The Vespiquen hovered in place for a moment, stunned, before catching up with the psychic, “I need the status on the human—”

“I said, I don’t have the time. Your fancy tallies can wait.”

Autumn paid the frustration behind her little attention—she had something more important to take care of. Anyhow; she doubted other teachers would be too approving of her plan but…

Their problem, because she was going through with it anyway.

The village nursery was far from the liveliest of places this early in the day. Many of the assorted tykes were either still asleep, or really wished they were asleep. All the warmth wasn’t helping either—even without the Fire-type Elder to provide warmth, the small fire pit made for a comfortable atmosphere. As evidenced by well over a dozen little ones huddling up close to each other and their caretakers.

It’d be a while before everyone was here. And if Autumn had anything to say, today’s ‘everyone’ would be much larger than usual. “Morning Jovan, Pearl!” she greeted, her voice reaching the two caretakers with mixed results. The Wigglytuff blinked away his momentary daze, while the Grumpig looked like she’d been freshly woken up; limbs and curly tail alike stretching to the sound of a held-in yawn. 

Before either of them could return Autumn’s greeting, though, another voice filled the sleepy gathering first. One much livelier, and much more confused, “Hiiiii Autumn! Where’s Bell?”

The lil’ Riolu underlined her confusion by glancing around the clearing, neither eyes nor aura having any success in finding her favorite playmate. Head tilts gave way to tail wagging once the Indeedee responded to her question in the most affectionate way, “Hey, Reya! Bell won’t be around today sadly, he’s gonna be visiting Anne!”

“Awwwhhh... oh oh oh, who’s Anne?”

“The human at the clinic!” Autumn answered. Regardless of how drowsy the two caretakers had been before then, the Indeedee’s clarification had managed to wake them up in record time. 

As uncertain as the Wigglytuff’s expression might have been, it was the Grumpig that spoke up first, “Hope he ain’t in there all alone, Autumn...”

“Not at all Pearl, Marco will be watching over him!”

“Oh, good~. Wait, Marco!? How is he? Why’s he watching over a human?” Jovan asked, alarm clear in his soft voice.

Autumn took a moment to gather her thoughts before responding, dispensing pets to the lil’ Riolu all the while, “He’s still injured after his encounter yesterday, but doing well overall!”

“Oh, thank goodness...”

Reya wouldn’t be the only one receiving affection, either. The fairy balloon flinched a bit as the Indeedee reached over, giving him his own share of pets, before eventually giving in.

“Yep! As to the human question...” Autumn trailed off, unsure what to say. A part of her wanted to bring up every single thing she’d seen.

Every single horrific event the human girl at the clinic had been subjected to. Every tragedy, every strike by the hands of people who were supposed to be her guardians. Every time she’d been treated like garbage at home, or like a monster by the village.

She really wanted to—but there simply wasn’t the time, nowhere near. Instead, she took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts before continuing, “It’d take a while for me to explain everything, but the gist is—the human is innocent. She used to be Ember’s friend. She doesn’t have a family to go back to, and it’s likely she’ll end up staying here for a while.”

“Ember’s friend, eh?” the Grumpig asked, having a hard time visualizing that one, especially with Ember’s fear of the alien in their midst still fresh on her mind. Then again, the Indeedee was all truthful; she could sense that… good gods, what was going on?

“I’m sure she’ll be more than glad to tell you herself once she’s up again.” Autumn answered.

“Even in the best-case scenario, I worry about how well anyone here would think of a human, even an innocent one...” Jovan picked up, still wondering what the hell had happened yesterday once Marco had left with Ember.

“That’s exactly what I wanted to talk with you two about!”

Most of the little ones were too young to get anything out of the discussion going on above them, to the adults’ relief. That didn’t mean they weren’t listening, though. Dozens of curious eyes bounced back and forth between their caretakers and the Indeedee, especially at all the mentions of humans and their mysteries. Both Pearl and Autumn were well aware of that, and the latter didn’t shy from using that knowledge. “All the kids are curious about Anne, and she might end up staying with us for a while—it’s the talk of the village. I’ve spent a fair bit of time with her, and I’m rather confident about most things now. How does me taking up a few hours to talk about humans sound?”

Neither Jovan nor Pearl could deny the utility of an approach like that, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have their objections. The Wigglytuff asked, “What about your own class~?” and the Grumpig followed up, “Ya sure the kiddos are gonna catch everythin’, love?”

“Well Jovan, that’s why I wanted to bring my class over here as well, reach all the kids at once. And, Pearl... the youngest ones probably won’t, even with translation. But that’s fine—the important point is teaching them that not all humans are scary and evil, and they don’t need all the details for that.”

“I getcha, Autumn, jus’… makes me doubt it’ll be any good. ‘specially if their parents won’t stop going on about how humans are deep down evil.” Pearl sighed.

That was the one objection the Indeedee couldn’t disagree with. Her shoulders slumped as she admitted defeat on that point, “I know, Pearl. This won’t be enough in case Anne ends up staying, I’m—I’m well aware. But it’s a start, and it’s better than nothing, and I want to do anything I can to help. The girl’s been through hell, the same hell as Ember. We owe it to her to try our best.”

The emotional appeal broke through the caretakers’ remaining hesitancy. Pearl acknowledged the idea with a firm nod, before moving her attention to all the curious, confused little ones. Jovan was almost convinced, too, but there remained a very large hitch, one that had already burned Marco yesterday. “I... can’t imagine Cinder will be all too happy at the idea...”

“Cinder won’t be an issue today, Jovan.” Autumn reassured. Not something the Wigglytuff expected to hear, but effective at bulldozing through his concerns all the same. The ‘why’ remained unclear, but… he didn’t want to know, either.

“Sure~. I believe we can do that then, as long as you can manage your share of the kiddos~.”

“Don’t you worry about it one bit, Jovie. I’ll be going to drag them over now, unless you two have any further objections—”

“Autuuuuumn... can I go visit Bell?” Reya asked, butting into the grownup conversation. Her words earned her a few more pets, but sadly, no agreement.

“I’m sorry Reya, but you should stay here with Mr. Jovan and Mrs. Pearl.”

“But whyyyyy?”

“Marco will already have to look over four people. It wouldn’t be nice to add a fifth one now, would it?”

Numbers weren’t the Riolu’s strong suit, but empathy most definitely was. As little as she was, she could still see the Indeedee’s point; tail wags deflating as she grumbled under her breath. Autumn didn’t want to leave her out to dry either, continuing, “How about you come visit later today? He’d love to play with you at our place!”

Offer of more play—immediate excitement, redoubling the tail wags. “Yes, please!”

“You got it Reya! I’ll talk with you later!”

“Bye bye, Autuuuumn!”

“Is it true that humans can spit fire?”

Thankfully, retrieving the older kids from their usual location turned out to be a much easier task.

Just the mention of the mysterious human in their midst had most of them perk their heads up in curiosity, regardless of their prior knowledge. And with it easily beating another session of practicing Protect or Safeguard or whatever, they didn’t need any convincing either.

The other teachers were a bigger obstacle... at least in theory.

Cinder’s absence eliminated the one voice that would’ve absolutely vetoed the idea. With her out of the picture, only one other teacher remained. Autumn knew him well enough to capitalize on his own latent interest in human feats with a few pointed questions. Even better, he’d agreed to grab someone who has had a lot of experience with humans—and it didn’t even sound like the bad sort of experience either.

Things were falling into place. Now she just had to stave off the flood of questions until they arrived back at the clearing.

…

Guess she could get the sillier ones out of the way already.

“Nope, they don’t! They can’t use any moves, remember?” Autumn kept explaining.

That particular factoid refused to get weird no matter how many times the kids have heard it.

It just sounded.. wrong. Deeply, utterly wrong—and yet correct all the same. How could humans just not use moves? What was wrong with them? Just how they could be so fearsome with such a dire handicap? Some of these questions could be answered, some couldn’t, and some… very few people ever wanted to delve too deep on.

“But that’s so weird!”

“I know sweeties, I know. Humans are definitely a bit weird, but deep down, they’re not that different from us, I promise. Alright, we’re here! Please seat yourselves down everyone, and keep mindful of the younger kids!”

The horde of children of various species and ages took a while to finish settling in place. Most of the littlest ones stuck to their softer caretakers as they were surrounded by the older kids. Of the latter, a few faces coalesced towards the front of the group. Blossom was excited, but couldn’t help but gulp after Autumn gave her a knowing smile. Not everyone had the Dartrix’s enthusiasm—if anything, most didn’t—but that was Autumn’s job to change, and she felt confident in her own ability.

Just need a bit of empathy.

“^Alright everybody, thank you all so much for gathering so quickly! It’s a special occasion today, after all! You’re all gonna have a lot of questions, so I’d want you all to raise a limb if you want to ask a question so that we can go through them one at a time!^” Autumn spoke telepathically. It wasn’t easy linking up with so many minds all at once, especially not at her age, but Autumn wasn’t gonna show it in her expression. Age, schmage, she could do this. Anything to make this as clear as possible for the listeners.

Anything to give Anne more of a chance.

“^As you all probably know now, there is currently a human in our village, inside the healers’ tent. Her name is Anne, and she was rescued by our scouts a couple days ago—yes, Hawthorne?^”

“Why was it rescued?” the Espurr asked, annoyed.

Autumn had to hide an inward wince at hearing her words. She could empathize with the kitten to a point—her dad had been on the receiving end of more human cruelty than most, after all... but not the Espurr herself. It always made Autumn grimace a bit to hear her use her father’s past as a cudgel to bash all humans everywhere with. “^Anne was rescued because she got very hurt in the woods. She would’ve died if not for our help.^”

The Indeedee wasn’t sure whether being blunt was the best approach with so many toddlers around, but if nothing else, it made the older kids get the message loud and clear. Hawthorne wasn’t satisfied with that, but at least she let her teacher continue, “^There’s a good chance she ends up staying with us for good.^”

For approximately ten seconds.

“^Yes, Hawthorne?^”

“Why!?”

Focus, focus—she’s just a kid.

“^Anne’s been through a lot, Hawthorne. She had experienced a lot of abuse, and it’s not safe for her to return to her human family. In addition, she used to be friends with Ember—^” Autumn explained, stopping as half a dozen hands shot up immediately, the same question reverberating through all the attached heads. She continued, “^I know Ember hasn’t mentioned Anne previously. It’s because she didn’t remember either. There are...^”

She’d need a cleanse after having to whitewash Cinder of all people, but bringing her up would just derail everything.

“^There are reasons as to why she didn’t remember. It was a very scary, very traumatic time for her. Our minds sometimes try to erase terrible memories because of just how much they hurt to remember, and that’s likely what happened here. All this has already scared Ember a lot, and I’d want to kindly ask you all to not barrage her with your own questions about all this, okay? She’ll tell you all if, and when she’s comfortable doing so.^”

The array of limbs finally began dying down as the kids gave thought to Autumn’s answers. Each, except for one particular Stunky paw, still reaching as high up as the kit was capable of.

“^Yes, Zephyr?^”

“How—how do we know she won’t be aggressive towards anyone?” the Stunky asked. Aside from the voice crack at the beginning, his words with as much confidence as the Stunky could project. Confidence and eagerness, the lil’ one holding position as he awaited an answer. There was an accusation in his question, yes—but it wasn’t the point, not the main point. Much less interest in the human’s underlying dangers, and much more in potentially being helpful in mitigating them.

“^Several reasons! You all might have heard a thing or two about humans being powerless without their tools and yes, that is true. Humans can’t use moves, not even the simple ones. If it’s just their own, they’re almost completely defenseless. That’s something I really want you all to remember. She can’t really hurt any of you, but you all can hurt her a lot. You will have to be much more careful with her than with other kids, especially during any physical play. And... Blossom!^”

The Dartrix jumped at being pointed out, enough so to end up airborne. She wasn’t holding her wing up; everybody was staring at her. She begged for it to not be what she thought it was as she replied, “Y-yes, Mrs. Autumn?”

“^C’mere.^”

Oh no, it was.

The selection sent chatters through the other kids as the Dartrix hopped over to her teacher. She wanted to bury herself underground or fly off into the distance, either or—anything but being stared at like this.

As much as Autumn wanted the owlet to feel a bit put on the spot because of so flagrantly going against their request to not venture into the human lands, the girl’s reaction made her feel a bit bad. A gentle hug didn’t solve all the anxiety, but was very appreciated all the same, helping Blossom in easing out.

“^So, Blossom~. You’ve spent some time around Anne. How would you describe her as? Age and personality-wise?^”

The murmurs that followed brought back some of her anxiety; the Dartrix of half a mind to just take off there and then. But… depending on what she said, the other kids might end up liking Anne more right out of the gate. She wanted that; she wanted that a lot, especially now that she had a better idea of what yesterday was all about.

Anne deserved to be given a fair chance by others here.

That realization didn’t magically cut through all the worries, but it was still effective all the same. Enough for Blossom to push ahead, right as Indeedee was second guessing this whole idea. She spoke up, “Ummmm... A-Anne is about m-my age. She’s really shy too, I-I think even more so than I am! She got really scared for a moment when—when she spotted me in the clinic’s window, h-heh...”

Autumn’s sigh of relief was small enough to avoid being noticed by too many onlookers; the answer netting the owlet a couple more pets as it sparked more chatter in the crowd. “^Yep! Anne is just a girl, close in age to many of you, and a really timid one at that. Besides—I’d hope that nobody here would be aggressive towards others without a reason, so I don’t see why Anne would either. *Sigh*, yes, Hawthorne?^”

“But it’s a human—”

“And what about that?” a gruff voice cut Hawthorne off, catching the attention of most gathered.

Their heads turned towards the final two missing faces; neither of them the sort anyone here wanted to upset. Few kids had ever chatted with the Electivire that had just spoken up—he was known much more for having spent many years in human captivity before becoming a scout than for being talkative. Fewer still had ever seen him don his headgear, a white human-made cap with several blue markings, nestling in comfortably between his horns.

Oddly enough, it wasn’t the only… accessory he had brought with himself.

Armbands weren’t all that rare as articles of clothing around the village, but arm-Magnemite most definitely were. This one was on the smaller side and asleep if the closed eye was anything to go by. The Electric-type they were leeching from didn’t seem to mind their presence. Flanking them was a Serperior, the other remaining teacher. He didn’t appreciate having to trudge through the snow, slithering his way towards the firepit the moment it came into sight.

Amusing as the sight was, the gruff voice continuing pulled everyone’s attention back to the Electivire, “What about her being a human, Hawthorne?”

“N-n-nothing, M-Mr. Geiger.”

“I certainly hope so. Well, hello everyone. I’ve been told you wanted ol’ me to ramble on about humans for a while, ah?” Geiger greeted the crowd with a smirk.

“^Thank you so much for coming, Geiger, and yes! Your point of view is unique in the village, and with Anne being likely to stay for a while, it’s for the best that we all learn more about them. Yes, Zephyr?^”

“Ooh, will you ask my mom to speak too, Mrs. Autumn?”

An innocent, excited question, more relaxed than his earlier posturing.

Unfortunately, the Indeedee had no idea how to respond to the Stunky. Yes, his mom similarly had a lot of human knowledge, and she used it often as an active scout, but… But. Autumn wanted to be honest, and keeping someone from speaking up just because it wouldn’t be what she wanted to hear was just about the peak of intellectual dishonesty... goddammit.

“^If she has a free moment during the day, then I can ask Rose to chime in as well. From what I know, she’s busy today, so let’s focus on the here and now. Geiger, could you describe how much time you’ve spent with humans and in what capacity?^”

The Electivire straightened out with a proud chuckle, trying to appear as respectable as he could physically manage. Granted, some of that was cut into by the old man cough that went through him afterwards, but he was imposing enough that the kids really didn’t care. “I have spent the first thirty-one years of my life under human watch,” he started, earning gasps from all around. Some of them impressed at anyone surviving for that long amongst humans, the rest shocked at any creature being this old. “I used to live... uh... you, over there?”

“^Grace, what’s your question?^”

“Who is that on your arm?” the Zangoose asked.

Geiger gave her a hearty laugh at the choice of her question, one tail curling to pat the sleeping magnet as he answered, “Ha, I wish I knew in all honesty. From what I know, they followed Lumi yesterday and ended up clinging to him by the time he woke up. He tried to get them off but couldn’t figure out how, so he approached me and... now they’re attached to me. In all truth, I’m not sure why they’re here in the first place or why are they so clingy, but I don’t mind. Can always ask one of our skilled psychics to help translate later. Anyhow—any other questions, uh, Grace?”

“What’s that thing on your head?”

“Ha! I was about to get to that. I used to live in a large human facility where humans used to make electricity. I—okay, I hope this question is less prejudiced than the previous one, Hawthorne.”

The teacher in Autumn didn’t appreciate shade being thrown onto one of her students. However, the grandma that wanted to look out for all the little ones, no matter their looks, most definitely did. She’d only held in the chuckle that followed through the sheer power of will.

“It’s not—” the Espurr tried to cry out.

“Then what is it?”

“Did humans keep you enslaved there to make electricity for them?”

“No. Anyway, my duty there, after I’d evolved into an Electabuzz, was much more benign. To the best of my knowledge, my responsibility was to intervene in case of severe emergencies, and either help stabilize the electricity output, or shut the whole system down depending on the severity. You, the Gloom.”

“^Mint—^”

“...aren’t humans Normal-types? ....and if so, how do they make electricity?” Mint asked, words as engaged as it was possible for a voice this sluggish to be. He leaned in forward as much as he could, awaiting a response.

“I think they are, yes. As to how—I wish I grasped more than a sliver of it. Human creations are incredibly complex, even most humans only know about one or two in any detail. For much the same reason, I doubt the one in the village will be of much help answering that question either. From what I understood of it, it involved a very dangerous process that glowed blue, and which we were instructed to stay well away from. That process heated a lot of water to devilish temperatures, and that hot water was then used by a separate machine to make electricity.”

“...if they just need hot water for electricity, why not heat it directly?” the Gloom asked.

“I am not entirely certain, Mint. I’d advise not to come up with any half-baked ideas to explain that conundrum, though. Humans are many things, but as a collective, they’re not stupid. I’d even say they’re devilishly smart as a whole, which is good for their ingenuity, and bad for us when it comes to hiding from them.”

“Which is why we have to try our best to keep hidden from them!” Zephyr butted in, his voice once more shining with courageous pretense, even if accompanied by nervous taps on the snowy ground.

Before Autumn could chide him for speaking up out of order, Geiger responded, “Correct, Zephyr! It’s all too easy to underestimate any singular human whenever our intimidation or misdirection succeeds, but the mere fact of us having to try as hard as we do proves their intelligence by itself.”

“But if they’re this devious, th-then how can we trust any of them, even that injured one?” the Stunky asked, his voice maintaining his fearlessness—at least, aside from the one, noticeable crack. Thankfully for him, though, it went unacknowledged.

“They’re no hive mind, they can just communicate with each other very effectively. On a few occasions, I was asked to help after a part of their electricity infrastructure had sustained significant damage. It was well over a day’s march away, but they knew instantly when it got damaged, and were able to cooperate on the repair effort over even further distances in moments. More than anything else, it was that communication that made the biggest impression on me. Yes, Mint?”

“...isn’t that Psychic?”

“Similar in use, completely different in how it functions, from what I know. Suppose no Psychic has that high of a range, Autumn?”

“^Nope, even from one end of the village to another would be impressive. What you’re describing just isn’t possible.^”

“Not for an actual Psychic, no. *Sigh*... Hawthorne?”

“Even with all that ‘communication’, we wouldn’t need to hide from them if they weren’t all evil!”

“Define ‘evil’,” Geiger responded flatly.

The Espurr was sufficiently taken aback by the task to shut up there and then. On top of having no idea where that question even came from, she just had no idea how to even begin answering it; mewling out ‘ummm’s and ‘ehhh’s.

“‘Evil’ is too banal of a label to be useful for this context,” the Electivire began. “Imagine... hell, imagine if all the labor in our village was being done by humans, had to be done by humans. Nothing about us as individuals needs to change, merely that we need human labor to survive. None of us would be any more eager to go out and hurt them any more than we’d want to hurt anyone else. We’d simply be aware of the ‘fact’ that we need to have some humans enslaved, that we need to control them, that we need to kidnap them from their houses if needed, and act accordingly. We wouldn’t hate them, but... if kidnapping one or two was what it took to let our entire village continue existing like it does, then we’d begrudgingly tolerate it. Not as a good thing, but as a necessary thing. Zephyr, go on.”

“We wouldn’t, we’d know better than that!” the Stunky spoke with courage once more—or at least a veneer of it.

“How can you be sure? There’s no inner fairness within us that would stop us from doing so. Just think of all the bloodshed being done by feral mons, how needless it ultimately is, if only they knew how else to survive... actually. Ha, I got it! Hahaha!” Geiger laughed, waking up a few snoozing tots out of their naps—including the Magnemite attached to his arm.

He spared the lil’ magnet a chuckle before continuing, “You can simply think of most humans as ‘feral’, in that way. That’s the only way to live they’ve ever known. There’s no hatred behind it, no targeted animosity, merely cruelty taken as a necessary evil. And just like the only difference between us and our feral cousins is our upbringing, much the same holds true for humans. I don’t doubt the girl in our clinic won’t turn out any more malicious than any of us. Less so if anything, just to overcompensate. Just like we protect ourselves from feral mons that would have us for dinner, so we have to be on the lookout for ‘feral’ humans.”

“Except feral pokemon can join the village if they express willingness to.” a low, heavy voice interrupted, making everyone turn towards the Torkoal, most adults with a quick bow at that. Geiger limited himself to a tip of his hat, and an unamused look. Autumn’s expression of respect was similarly scuffed—though in her case, it was caused by concern most of all.

What have they decided for Anne? She wasn’t shutting this entire conversation down, so they couldn’t have said no—right?

“Indeed, Elder Ana, that comparison isn’t quite perfect. Even then, the only difference is that the feral mons won’t cooperate with each other on a large enough scale to ever pose a serious threat to us. If they could coordinate, there would absolutely be a group of feral mons that tries to overwhelm us to feast on those of us who cannot defend ourselves. It’s simply a matter of organization,” Geiger continued.

“As opposed to that theoretical, human intervention is a serious and constant threat.”

“It is, yes, but it’s not because of any inherent human quality. If the girl in the clinic can’t talk to other humans, there’s no risk of the knowledge of us ever spreading through her, and at that point, she’s no more dangerous than any of us. Zephyr?”

“So we just need to not let her leave the village to communicate with other humans!?” Stunky asked, excited at having come up with an idea.

“Hold your enthusiasm, lil’ one. Doubt your mom or any other scout would appreciate having to babysit her just to keep her from escaping. More of a cage than a home at that point, isn’t it?”

“I—I could do that! I could watch and keep her in here!”

“I like your spark Zephyr, but these matters need much more careful thought. Besides,” the Electivire paused as a thought struck him, fingertips tapping against his other forearm. “I was wrong in my assessment there, now that I think about it. Everyone in our village could potentially make humanity aware of us; by mistake or by oversight. Showing ourselves where humans don’t expect to see our kin, stumbling onto someone the scouts haven’t caught. Deliberate treachery. All those are possible for all of us; the human girl is neither different nor more dangerous in that regard. We’re doing ourselves a disservice if we keep thinking of humans as the sole outlet by which we may expose ourselves to the world.”

Much to Blossom’s despair, there wasn’t any covert way for her to bury herself underground while remaining unnoticed at that remark. Thankfully, Ana’s response caught everyone’s attention before the Dartrix could feel bad for what she’d done, “I can’t imagine anyone here resorting to treachery against their home.”

“Neither can I. Which is why I imagine the girl won’t do such an act either if this place becomes her home, and not merely a cage for her to be contained in,” the Electivire responded flatly.

The Electivire and the Torkoal stared each other in the eyes for a few tense moments; age sharpening their wills enough to not let either relent.

A handful of shocks jumped between the prongs on Geiger’s head and through the magnet on his arm, the Steel-type feeling the tension very acutely as the silence grew more uncomfortable by the moment. Autumn used the opportunity to finally answer the distressing question for herself, hoping the Elder would be too distracted to notice her thoughts being investigated—vote deferred.

Neither damnation nor redemption, just more of this interminable limbo.

“Uuuuuh, Mr. Geiger?” the Zangoose’s voice snapped the Indeedee and the Electivire out of their thoughts, the two nodding in unison.

“Yes, Grace?” the Electric-type asked.

“You still haven’t told us what that thing is in your head.”

The reminder, and the burst of laughter it sparked, did wonders to diffuse the built-up tension. Guess he really forgot to mention that detail, hah. Alright, at that point the kiddos had earned a closer look.

With a single, swift motion, Geiger yanked the cap off his head and tossed it towards the Zangoose, catching her off guard. And so did all the static that had accumulated in it, frizzling the Normal-type’s fur all over her body; Grace herself too surprised to even immediately react as the Electivire explained, “That’s just a cap with the symbol of the facility I lived in. Everyone that had responsibilities there had one of these, human and mon alike. This one was modified to fit my head better. Feel free to take a look, everyone. Just be careful with it.”

Even besides the weird blue markings on the front, the white fabric of the cap was unnaturally well-weaved. It was flawless in a way nothing really tended to be, confusing the older kiddos as it changed hands. The blue parts were incomprehensible geometric shapes that most adults recognized as the fabled human writing, with a simpler symbol off to the side-a circle with three radial, widening arms coming off of it.

As much as Geiger appreciated the kiddos’ reactions to his hat, there was one sight he could only shudder at. Shudder, before begrudgingly taking the bait, anyway, “...yes, Hawthorne?”

“Weren’t you trapped there, Mr. Geiger?”

The question quieted the chit-chat, neither Autumn nor Geiger appreciating the swerve of direction towards that unpleasant topic. Still, it merited an answer even if just to be appropriately thorough, as messed up as it was. “In a way, I was, yes. I could only walk around in so much of the facility. I couldn’t leave unattended, or for good. I wasn’t truly free, and I can only imagine the horrible circumstances behind just where my egg originally came from. All those are true.”

“How can you say that humans aren’t evil then!?” Hawthorne screeched.

“In which relevant ways does my plight back at that facility differ from the human girl’s current situation?”

The Espurr was taken aback at such a question, at its downright absurd gall. It was obviously different in so many ways, way too many to speak of, but there was one that stood out in particular, “If she just left, then we’d all be in danger!”

“From the perspective of humans overlooking me, exactly the same was true of me. I was incomparably stronger than them. I absolutely had the capacity to not just doom them in the abstract, but to single-handedly end their lives in the most violent way without them being able to do anything about it. I had to be contained; I had to be controlled.”

Not a topic that ever grew any more comfortable to think about, even with the understanding of systemic reasons things were this way.

“They couldn’t give me all the freedom I wanted, or even all the freedom they wanted, but on an individual level, they treated me as well as they were capable of. They trusted me, and I returned the favor. I don’t know if they ended up thinking of me as a full-on equal, but that’s how it felt much of the time—up to and including me in their entertainment or discussions even with me unable to speak their language, only listen.”

Geiger paused for a while to steady his breath, following up shortly after.

“The only reason I’m even here is because they broke their rules. The facility eventually shut down, and I was supposed to be moved somewhere else, away from them all, and they covertly let me free. It’s oh-so-easy to assume humans are uniquely evil and that none of us could ever stoop to their level. All that does is a disservice to them, and a disservice to us.”

Once more, heavy silence. The younger kids stared, confused, as the older ones pondered. Geiger’s description was evocative for most of the audience—but there remained one key detail that had gotten overlooked in all the deep discussion.

“Hmm? Grace, right?”

“Yeah—how do humans look like? They’ve got to be small if so many of them couldn’t stop you,” the Zangoose asked.

“Did—did I end up never going over that?”

“^Spirited discussion makes us overlook simple things like that, ha,^” Autumn chuckled.

“That it does, Autumn, that it does. Now, as for humans as living beings...”

As Geiger got to describing humans—a topic Autumn could actually contribute to—she took a sweeping look over their audience. Many of the little ones were confused or sleepy, both outcomes very understandable.

But, again, not all.

Most of the older kids were paying close attention. Concerned, curious, distraught, empathetic towards so many parties. Wishing good things towards the one human that all this was sparked by. She couldn’t quite spot Reya anywhere, but maybe Lariat just got done with his scouting duties ahead of time and picked her up.

Wonder how Anne and the kids are doing.