Interlude – Fantina

Interlude – Fantina

INTERLUDE - FANTINA

Two children currently sat in Fantina's office. Fantina stared at them both for a few seconds. There was a lot of passion behind those eyes. A drive to improve in Pokemon battling. A drive she had once had, but no longer felt no matter how much she tried to rekindle it. Their drives both felt distinctly different, however. Like fire and ice. Warmth and coldness. Grace Pastel and Mira Compton.

"Apologies for the impromptu meeting," Fantina said. "I have a contest gala to get to in an hour, so we'll make this quick."

"An hour?" Grace said. "Uh, should we maybe reschedule? That doesn't sound like enough time to—"

"Shhhh!" Mira hissed. "I'm not leaving until I get my answers. I've been looking forward to this for months."

"I will make it, do not worry," Fantina said. "I suppose we can start with Grace Pastel, then, since I asked her to come here first."

The blond girl timidly nodded.

"I assume you do not have your Electabuzz with you?"

"No, he's still at the Center," she answered with a slight wince. "Your Doublade did quite a number on him. Do we need him here?"

"Not exactly," Fantina shrugged. "But it would have been easier to ask him questions. Was your Electabuzz owned by someone previously?" She asked.

Grace frowned. "No. I don't think so, at least. I found him hanging around the power plant at Valley Windworks. He was friendly, but I just attributed that to the fact that he was used to humans, since they usually travel between Floaroma and the plant to go to work."

"A sound assumption," the gym leader nodded. "Still, you ought to ask him, but it does not derail the point I wanted to make. How old is he, then?"

"I don't... know? I'd say a few years old at most, he's clearly still a kid."

"Alright, let me explain what I believe happened. When a Pokemon is young— and I mean young, a few weeks old at most, they tend to learn a lot of things very quickly."

Grace hummed, and she seemingly thought of something. "Yeah, I have a young baby Pokemon with me that learned a lot of moves really fast."

"You have a baby? D'aww, how cute!" Mira squealed.

"You see this phenomenon in human children as well. They are knowledge sponges, especially during their first years. Alas, most Pokemon grow up a lot quicker than that. Still, I believe that when your Electabuzz was a newborn, it must have been in constant contact with a ghost for him to learn what they feel like. A process that can only be learned early in a Pokemon's life, unless they are a ghost themselves. Of course, once it is learned, it can be worked on and improved regardless of age."

Fantina watched as Grace silently digested the words she had just spoken.

"Either way, the ability is not always guaranteed. Your Electabuzz would have had to be quite close to this ghost, and it would have had to be quite powerful. It also could not have been a one-off experience. For him to be as good as he is, he would have had to quite literally be with this ghost for his entire infancy."

"He's... he's never told me anything about it. Never even hinted at it."

"Maybe it is a memory he does not wish to revisit, or he is keeping it a secret until he is ready," Fantina said. "Or maybe he simply does not think that it would matter to you."

She muttered something, and her eyes widened. "I've... I've got to go," she hurriedly said before bowing. "Thank you for your time!"

"Oh, nonsense, my dear. I was quite interested in your Electabuzz. He's only one of the few Pokemon I've seen that is capable of sensing ghosts that well."

"Thank you again! Have fun with your contest gala thing!" She said as she ran out of the office.

Well, what an interesting night this had turned out to be, and she was only halfway done. For this girl's Electabuzz to be this good at sensing ghosts, he would have had to be... raised by one from birth, Fantina reckoned. An odd thing to think about, but not impossible. Pokemon were known to adopt children from different species, even in the wild.

Ghosts were hateful, but they were not all a monolith. They were capable of love, too.

"Now, you," Fantina sighed. Mira Compton's ghost had ruthlessly killed her Haunter in their battle, and it had to be disqualified during the fight. Still, she won rather handily. Fantina hoped that she would be there to calm him down whenever he reappeared. "That Haunter of yours. I assume he has been getting worse? You did not expect it to kill mine. I could tell from your face during the battle."

"Well, duh. It's not like I'm on the verge of breaking down because of how impossible he is, or anything," she said, laughing nervously.

Fantina stared at the young girl with pity. Ghosts were Pokemon with an untold amount of potential, but they were also incredibly hard to train. Doing so had brought the gym leader close to multiple mental breakdowns in her youth, and it pained her to see another trainer so close to one of her own.

"Tell me about your Haunter," Fantina said.

"He just hates everything that lives," Mira said. "Wild Pokemon, trained Pokemon, humans... he just wants to torment and kill all of them. I... I don't know how to fix him. It's been getting harder and harder to justify getting him out of his Pokeball. I'm at the end of my rope."

She was sobbing now. Fantina opened one of her drawers and handed her a box of tissues.

"I understand that you are in pain, but that is not what I meant, dear. What is your Haunter like? Is there any particular food he enjoys? Most people do not know this, but even true ghosts are capable of ingesting and tasting things. Does he like to lazily float in the wind? Soak in the sunlight, that can provide them the only warmth they will ever feel? Does he enjoy speaking with the other members of your team, perhaps? What kind of music does he like?"

Mira sniffled and blew her nose. "I don't... I don't know? Arceus, I'm so lame."

"Therein lies the problem. Your Haunter doesn't try to kill you, does he?"

She shook her head.

"Then why not spend more time with him? There is this stereotype where ghosts are supposedly incapable of love, and that they are just bloodthirsty monsters that would do anything to kill, but it is far from the truth," Fantina continued. "They are Pokemon. They are capable of love, of warmth, and of friendship. You simply have to work harder to get them there."

"But I'm— what if he sees another trainer or something. I'm traveling with two people, and he doesn't even know. I haven't told him yet."

"How can you expect your Haunter to be civilized if all you use him for is gym battles?" Fantina asked. "There will always be a risk, but you have your other Pokemon, don't you? If all else fails and you can't get your Haunter back to his Pokeball, they will be there to stop him. You are a good trainer, Mira. Your victory against me today was extremely impressive, despite the hiccup. You should trust your team more. Plus, it should be a good bonding exercise."

"My team hates him, though..." she grumbled. "My Kadabra, especially. My Magnezone wants to fry him every time he's out, too."

"Well, you will have to work something out on that front. You know your team better than I could ever hope to. Every Pokemon is different, including ghosts, but you should try to treat him as you would any other. If you had, let us say, an aggressive Furret, would you keep it permanently restrained to its Pokeball, or would you try to communicate?"

"Communicate."

"Exactly, my dear. Now, I will not mislead you and say this process will be an easy one, but all certainly is not lost like you appear to think."

Mira crumpled her tissue and smiled. "Hey, I just got a really dumb idea just now. Can I tell you?"

Fantina raised an eyebrow. "Sure, I will entertain you."

"Do you think Haunter would like to play catch?"

"Oh, what a wonderful idea!" Fantina laughed. "See? This is what I was talking about! Play games with your Pokemon! Teach Haunter that there is more to life than just killing! And who knows, maybe one day, he'll be your most affectionate Pokemon."

"Thank you, miss," Mira firmly said. "I needed that. By the way, one more question. If I ever succeed at fixing my Haunter's behavior, how would I go about... evolving him?"

Fantina stopped laughing, and her expression grew serious. Her next statement almost came out like clockwork.

"You are not ready."

—

Fantina walked out of her gym and stepped into her car. Some gym leaders enjoyed being driven around by gym trainers, but she had always liked her independence.

There had been such passion behind those two girls. Passion was not always positive. It could make someone jubilant, but it could also drop you into the deepest pit of despair.

"Passion..." she sighed as she drove out of the parking lot. "I used to have it, once."

Growing up in post-war Kalos had been difficult for Fantina. Her father had died in the war— not because he'd been a combatant, but because he was caught in the middle of some kind of infiltration mission gone wrong, or at least that's what her mother had told her growing up. That entire generation— the ones who lived and fought through the war— had been so deeply affected that they were all broken in some way. For Fantina's mother, that was simply a fear of Pokemon so deep that she rarely went outside until her death. Her uncle moved in soon after and took care of them with construction jobs that were dearly needed after the war.

Fantina had a pleasant childhood, all things considered. As pleasant as one of her generation could have had. Despite being a shut-in, her mother loved her dearly and cared for her, while her uncle became a fatherly figure she had desperately needed. She had been terribly lonely, however. She struggled to make any friends due to her eccentric behavior—

Fantina slammed her foot on the break and honked.

"Putain, met ton clignotant!" She swore. "Merde!"

Arceus, she loved Hearthome, but the drivers could leave a lot to be desired. She felt the bottom of her car rattle.

"It's nothing, just the drivers," she sighed exasperatedly.

One day, when walking through the streets of Lumiose city, Fantina almost died.

There had been rumors of children dying in the post-war shanty towns to the south of the city, and as foolish as she had been, she decided to go and check in the middle of the night. She wasn't ashamed to say that she soiled herself when she came across a Gastly in the middle of licking a pale, unconscious teenager. Fantina still remembered it like it was yesterday.

She immediately ran home and never told anyone about it. She had only been eight, so getting berated by her uncle if she admitted what she had seen seemed like a terrible trade-off.

"The morality of children can be awful like that," Fantina chuckled. "But it was that lapse in judgment that allowed my future to take place."

A month later, the rumors stopped, and Gastly was found and driven out of that section of the city. The news said that he'd killed seven people in total— six children and one adult, and yet, as a young girl, she couldn't help but be morbidly intrigued by the ghost. Fantina had felt a pull, begging her to go back and check on him. It took her another six months to find the Gastly again, and Fantina recognized him instantly due to a particular slant he had in his noxious eyes.

With her whole body shivering like a leaf, the first thing she asked of this serial killer ghost was if he wanted to be her friend.

"You were taken aback, weren't you?" The old woman chuckled. She'd always been strange like that. "And yet, here we are now, almost sixty years later."

Of course, it had taken her months for her to actually befriend Gastly. She used to sneak out of her house at night to bring him leftovers or snacks, which the ghost loved, but he still always haunted her on the way home, appearing in the corner of her vision and scaring her enough to make her fall over multiple times. Fantina hadn't cared. She'd vent all about her problems while walking home, and he would listen in silence, occasionally popping in to terrify her when he got bored. They did eventually become friends, though, and he stopped his killings. Sometimes, he'd even go to her house and listen to her worries until she fell asleep. Luckily, her mother never found out, or she would have had a heart attack right then and there.

Fantina parked her car in her driveway and made her way toward her large home. It'd been gifted to her by a judge high-up in the Contest Committee when she had been supposed to retire out of becoming a gym leader. Alas, Cynthia convinced her otherwise, and Fantina was a woman of her word.

Four more years. Well, more like three and a half, now.

"Wait for me," she said as she opened the door.

Fantina stared at the antique wooden clock in her entryway. She had forty minutes to get to her contest, which was ample time to get ready. After all, she wore the same stylish haircut, a similar amount of makeup, and similar dresses every day for work, so doing this had become a routine.

Which meant that she could continue reminiscing about her early days.

When Fantina turned fifteen, she asked Gastly to join her team. The ghost accepted immediately. They had practically been inseparable at this point, after knowing each other for years. She'd wanted to become a Pokemon trainer for as long as she could remember, as many children did. Oh, now she knew that a part of it was heavily crammed into the brains of children in case another war ever broke out and Kalos needed another fresh batch of trainers— especially when they had lost so many during the Great War. The government had wanted the new generation to pick up the slack.

Maybe Fantina just got swept up in the excitement, but she couldn't deny that for more than a decade, she truly lived for Pokemon battling. She spent her entire early career in Kalos, going through their own version of the Circuit many times, gathering as many ghosts as she could in the process. She had built herself quite a negative reputation because of it. When she turned twenty-three, however, she decided that she wanted something new. Things had begun to grow boring, and she figured that a fresh journey in a new region might do the trick.

"Houndoom, Dark Pulse!"

"Dark Pulse, Umbreon!"

"Drapion, Pin Missile!"

All of them yelled at the same time, and all attacks shot out simultaneously.

"Hold back," she quickly responded.

A Dusclops appeared in front of Fantina, shielding her with Protect. Drifblim dropped down from the sky, blocking the grunts' escape path. Banette and Gengar jumped out of her shadow to strike the attacking Pokemon. A hole formed in the middle of Gengar's body as two Dark Pulses simply passed through him and rammed against Dusclops's Protect. The poison type laughed, pointing a ghostly hand toward the Umbreon, and a bright light of concentrated energy flew toward the dark type, who yelped and fainted after one Focus Blast. Banette swiped at Nidoqueen and Arbok with Shadow Claw, disappearing with Phantom Force in a split second when she needed to dodge. A purple Flamethrower washed down the alley from the sky, taking care of the rest. The battle was over in just a few moments.

Five dark types? They certainly had come prepared, but it was not enough to take her down. She had decades of experience under her belt.

"Chandelure, light up the area, will you? I need to see their faces properly."

A pale, purple light shone down the alley, but Chandelure was still nowhere to be seen.

"Mismagius, keep them still."

The five grunts shivered as Mismagius appeared behind them and whispered in their ears. Their arms and legs were suddenly joined together.

"Fuck! I can't— how'd you tie us up?!" One of the grunts screamed.

But they weren't. It only felt like they were thanks to Mismagius' illusion, so they were incapable of running away.

"Now, now, what should I do with you?" Fantina quietly said as she approached the culprits. They couldn't have been a day over twenty-five. The youngest of them even looked eighteen. A shame, what Team Galactic had done to them. "Let's start with the obvious. What was your goal here?"

"It was—"

A young girl screeched, interrupting him. "Shut the fuck up, Samuel! Don't say anything!"

"But she'll kill us, won't she?!"

"They'll kill us whether we talk or not, you fuck!"

Samuel seemed to be the name of the youngest one. After asking them the same question a few more times, Fantina decided to use him as a wedge, along with handing them a snippet of hope.

"Look, I could just have everything ripped from your brain come tomorrow morning, but if you talk, I promise that I will make sure that doesn't happen. You will have to serve some time, but at least you will still be you."

"What good is your promise?" A female grunt said. "Don't make me laugh. We'll die here for our ideals if need be!"

Fantina stepped toward Samuel. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen," he timidly answered, ignoring his comrades' protests.

"Seventeen... well, I think that if you cooperate, you could be out of prison by the time you're twenty-five—"

A man spoke up this time. "Don't listen to her filthy mouth—"

Gengar loomed in front of the man, his multiple rows of long, sharp, needle-like teeth, terrifying scarlet eyes and perpetually shifting face in full display. The grunt held his breath, hoping not to inhale the poisonous fumes that the ghost could emit. Depending on how antagonistic Gengar felt, one whiff, and he'd drop dead.

"Gengar," Fantina warned.

The ghost laughed and sunk into her shadow. He'd always been overprotective.

"Listen, children. There are two choices here. Either you speak and at least have a chance of coming out of this unscathed, or you do not, and the League rips out your memories tomorrow."

After hesitating for a few seconds, Samuel spoke first. "We got a message that said to kill you before you got home. Apparently, you knew something. That's all we've been told."

"Don't try to fool me with half-truths. That was just stating the obvious. Your Pokemon are good... at least at the five-badge level, or around those lines. A pitiful assassination team for someone of my caliber, but trainers that good do not grow on trees, and I suppose that your leader did not want to sacrifice his more valuable assets in case the plan failed. Either way, surely that means that you were told more than this. Here, let me try something. Did you know that Team Galactic's ultimate goal is to end the world?"

They all froze.

"Ah, so you do know. And yet you still help them? How curious," Fantina mused. Letting them know did not exactly matter, since no matter what happened tonight, they wouldn't be going back to their headquarters. Still, she omitted speaking about Dialga and Palkia.

It had only been a theory, but the League believed that there were two tiers of Team Galactic members. Those who knew the real plan of the organization, and those that were being fooled with platitudes and empty promises. They had only captured and stolen the memories of the former so far, but that was the only way that they had figured a literal doomsday cult had gathered so many members.

And apparently, these five knew.

That complicated things. The odds of them making it out of this with their memories intact had considerably lowered unless they gave her pertinent information.

"Tell me everything you know, and I'll try to keep you alive."

The statement came from the heart. Fantina did not like seeing these poor children misled, so if she could avoid it, she would try to spare their minds. Of course, if push came to shove... well, it would be for the greater good.

The greater good, however, often just meant evil, but the League was content to dish out evil if the world would be saved— Fantina included.

"There's been a new directive... we were supposed to aim to kill the gym leaders to soften up the League forces in preparation for a potential attack on the three lakes," the youngest spoke. At this point, the others had all given up, aside from the girl. "You were deemed to be the easiest because you don't have protection from the League, and infiltrating it is basically impossible. We could infiltrate the coordinator industry to keep tabs on you instead. There was also the objective of killing Cynthia the next time she decided to get out of her damned fortified island."

Fantina almost broke into laughter. Killing Cynthia? With that Spiritomb keystone she carried in her pocket at all times? It might as well have been impossible. Even she— a ghost type specialist— found the Pokemon too much to handle. There was a reason Cynthia never used it in the few battles she still sometimes fought. All those damned 108 souls could agree on were an unshakable loyalty and love to the Champion. Still, she said nothing for now.

Cynthia... Fantina still remembered that bright-eyed fifteen-year-old that wiped the floor with her all those years ago when she challenged her gym for the first time with only a Gabite, a Togetic, a Roselia, a Milotic, and a Lucario to her name. She'd only been using her four-badge team, but it made her feel like a cornered Pokemon all the same. Fantina grabbed her phone and quickly sent a coded message to the League. The other gym leaders weren't as good as she was, and they were in great danger, especially since they carried their Pokemon in their balls at all times.

"You were planning on doing something the night of the contest," she continued. "What was it?"

"It would have been the same thing we tried now, just with thirty people instead of the measly five we managed to gather on such short notice. We would have waited near your home and attacked you when you came back from the post-contest party— hopefully drunk. It might still happen, I don't know," Samuel said.

So it wouldn't have been as bad as Fantina thought. She had almost expected a massive attack on the contest hall to get to her, but perhaps that would have generated too much public outrage due to the massive amount of casualties and put the public on the side of memory extraction. Still, thirty? She would have had to go all out, and even then, it might not have been enough. Fantina would have to call the League. Perhaps it was time to end her days of independence and get some guards.

"Where are your headquarters in the city?"

"Samuel, don't you dare!"

"It's to the southeast near the gate to route 209, but they're probably evacuating by now—"

"You fucking rat!"

"—We were supposed to send a message to confirm if we succeeded by now, so they probably know it's gone wrong."

Still, Fantina sent another coded message to the League after asking for the exact address. If they could make it in time...

"Who's the middleman between Team Galactic and Fabian Mcclure?" Fantina asked.

"Only Daisy and Derek know..." Samuel muttered. "They're our leaders."

"Samuel, you fucking traitor! I'll make sure the Commanders get you for this, you little worm!" Daisy continued to yell, squirming against her non-existent binds.

"Aïe, aïe, aïe," Fantina groaned, pinching her nose. She was completely brainwashed. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me? You'll die, or your mind will be irreparably altered. We will figure it out. It's just a matter of figuring it out tonight or tomorrow morning."

The man called Derek silently thought to himself, biting his lip as he no doubt considered his future. It was strange, that a man wanting to end the world cared about his future. Fantina could not really see the difference between dying tomorrow or a few months from now. Maybe there was more to the plan than met the eye. Would Cyrus' followers be spared in some way? With Dialga and Palkia under their control, anything they wanted would be possible. Fantina sent the idea to the League.

"Argh, fine! There's no way we're getting back in now anyway, Daisy!" Derek screamed in frustration. "Samuel already spoke too much. The Commanders would kill us or worse. We're not getting in... our best chance is to help the League stop them. Our contact in the city... his name is Abel. The fucking League—" he spat the last word, as he did every time he mentioned the government. "—probably knows more about him than we do. All I know is that he's as slippery as an Arceus damned Eelektross. I don't know what Pokemon he owns aside from that Malamar, but they allow him to be undetected wherever he goes."

Fantina hummed as she ignored Daisy's indignant cries. She petted Banette's head, which she had solidified, and the ghost nuzzled against her hand. Abel was that criminal from Unova that they still hadn't found. The League didn't exactly consider him to be a priority, but now, that might change.

"So he's joined your organization, then?"

"No. He hasn't, he just works for money," the grunt said. "Team Galactic's been paying him for his service, and he's excellent at information gathering. We're just working together out of convenience, or at least, that's what I've been told. He's after two big-wig billionaires. He doesn't seem to care much about anything else."

"I know who he is after. Let's stay on topic. So he is in the city, then. Where is he, currently?"

"I don't know."

"Where was the last place you saw him?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"It wasn't him that we met! We just talk via texting! It was an associate of his that always took the money. Some no-name kid that never speaks and has a fucking creepy grin that reaches his ears and a blank stare. Barely even blinks."

"What does the kid look like, then?"

"Barely ten, if I had to guess, but I'm bad with ages. White, dark brown hair, pale and thin, I don't fucking know. He's like any kid you can see on the street. The only thing different about him is that Arceus damned grin and blank stare. Barely even looks human."

"Fine. You've been of use. I will make sure you don't die. You are just children. Surely you deserve a second chance after you serve your time."

"T—thank you," Samuel sighed. "Thank you so much. What about our Pokemon?"

"The League will take and rehabilitate them."

All of their faces sank. Alas, she had done all she could. Fantina phoned the police, and ten minutes later, they were all off to jail. The League would take another few hours to arrive.

"Well, this sure was a mess, wasn't it?" Fantina told her ghosts. The cancer that was Team Galactic was spreading a lot more than she thought, and there'd be a lot of cleanup to do. Depending on how deep the rot went... she'd have to go after the Contest Committee itself. Her Pokemon all laughed as they disappeared into the shadows, and for some reason, her mind thought back to that young Mira Compton.

"Love your ghosts, and they shall learn to love in return."

The next day, Fabian, along with a few people in the industry, was arrested. The Galactic base in Hearthome had been completely vacated, even though they got there barely an hour after her call. The League learned of Team Galactic's ultimate plan thanks to the five grunts' cooperation, along with a lot more information about how Cyrus' inner circle operated. The man wished not only to end the world, but to create a new one in his image for himself and a few thousand of the members of his organization.

The rest? Well, they'd be left out to dry.