Two weeks in, we leave the Viridian area, armed with steely resolve and ten bags full of food. My vegetarian Pokemon insist they'll be able to cover the difference on their own, while Reginae is fasting with only his Synthesis to provide energy. I've gotten far more mixed reactions from the carnivores. Ethan in particular is uneasy whenever he has to go fishing. Doing it on accident in a rush of adrenaline was bad enough, but making the decision in his right mind seems to be too much for him.

While the rift is still there, the connections have meshed between the two groups well, regardless of what their feelings about each other may be. The real stress is on me, as a trainer, since I have to uphold all of those bonds at once. Even passive connections take a small amount of energy, but when I need to hold onto all of them at all times, without the conduit of official ownership via the Poke Ball, it's like being an Octillery with thirty arms instead of eight.

Then again, an Octillery has control over its tentacles.

This morning, we trek through the dense forest on the southern side of the route leading up to Victory Road. The forest is dense, which offers protection for the small Pokemon who haven't scampered away into the route grass, and the foliage is gnarly and unpleasant as you can imagine. I long to traverse the better maintained road, but any encounter with other people is a risk. I can't show up with twenty Pokemon and if anyone is left alone, Red's going to pounce or some trainer might see a rare wild Pokemon... let's just say anything and everything that can go wrong will go wrong, so it's best to minimize the chances.

This is stressing me out, so I decide to distract myself by listening to the team banter.

"What's over there?" asks Fang. He sniffs the air, "Smells like Ursaring."

"Smells like practice." Toxis says, cracking his hands. They're not human, and there's nothing that could be even loosely described as a 'knuckle', but his joints still make an obnoxious, loud popping sound when he flexes them the wrong way.

"Practice? Against feral Ursaring? Smells like a death wish." Shika scoffs. Ten mumbles something hasty in agreement, though he's struggling to keep up with the team. His wings are laden down with bags of canned goods.

"You can't smell death wishes." Fang says, "I know because Ashley so had one when I met her, but the only things she smells like are sweat, Pokemon hair, and depression."

"Thanks, Fang." I yell over to the Umbreon. "The hair's all yours, by the way."

"No problem," he yells back. "You can have it, free of charge!"

I love him, but sometimes I want to drop Fang back in his cardboard box.

Toxis, ignoring our exchange, continues, "Whatever you think of Ursaring, the Pokemon on Mount Silver are going to be harder. If you have a problem with Ursaring, you can take up a permanent job as bag carrier."

Shika stamps a hoof against the ground. Her nostrils are flared up with indignance as she butts her horns against Toxis's chest. "I'm already the permanent bag carrier! No one else has taken a turn besides Ra- I mean Crimson, and for Arceus's sake, he's half a story tall! He could carry everything on three of his scales."

"We're not risking that again. One of the bags has already been thrown to the ground and it had most of my pie ingredients." Shika says, dread rising in her voice.

"I was lookin' forwards to the pies. Has to be better than eatin' grass." Millie huffs, batting aside some vines. Her thick skin is poked full of thorn puncture marks but she's pushing through.

"Wasn't the only thing we lost," Dill says, stepping in behind her. " Rest in peace, chili sauce. You will be missed."

"You ate all of it off the ground-" Millie says.

"-you will be missed." Dill chips in again and receives a thick, thorn-heavy branch to the face.

"And you helped." Toxis taps his boyfriend's top fin.

Dill looks up, still smarting from the pain, and gives him a toothy grin.

The team continues, working in unison. Songs are tossed up in the air, we happen upon the occasional wild Pokemon, but for the most part it's just one long walk (or fly) onwards, with no end in sight. Fang and Hyacinth even ask to be withdrawn a few times, while Crimson ends up carrying a few of the younger or lazier members along (I haven't seen Carter walk an inch all day). Out of fierce, stubborn pride, Reginae and Bronze lead the way, with Bronze burning down the vegetation that obstructs our path. Reginae keeps tugging at our bond, ensuring I scent every last murdered thicket, but I'm not sure what he's trying to accomplish here. My sympathy for asshole plants has diminished ever since we started dealing with them at all times.

We carry on to midday, when we hit the sentry post for Victory Road, and I sigh, "Guess I'm going to have to go through customs to get to Mount Silver."

"Without us? Should we sneak around?"

I pull up the Pokedex, which confirms what I least wanted to hear. "Not unless you want an electric fence to the face."

"How are we going to get through customs?!" asks Crimson, deeply concerned.

"Relax. Ashley usually has good ideas." Bronze assures the group. "You do have an idea, right?"

Five minutes later, I walk right up to the Mount Silver desk and slam my elbow down, twenty Pokemon in tow. I open my bag case, revealing all sixteen badges, and give her a cocky grin. "I'd like to request access?"

The receptionist, a dark-skinned woman in prim outfit, raises a single eyebrow. "Ma'am, why are you taking twenty Pokemon, many of whom appear to be under 'companion' status, up to Mount Silver?"

"An elite Pokemon retreat," I lie. "Sponsored by the Johto Day-Care."

"I see," she says, taking hold of my Pokedex. "With Pokemon registered to your ID?"

"Not all those Pokemon are registered to my ID." I reply. "Check again."

She looks down the list, and while they are all registered under the name 'Ashley' the dimensional shift has altered my trainer ID number. It was such a superfluous, lucky guess, but nonetheless the woman nods slowly. "Another woman named Ashley, then. I must warn you that whoever you were dealing with may have been committing identity fraud. This ID number has been out of use for years."

"I trust my clients," I say with a wink, which was probably a bad idea.

"It's your funeral."

I am walking towards my own funeral, aren't I?

The League employee enters some buttons, puts me down on a register, and the metal door to the route behind us clanks open with an nonreassuring loud, whining screech that goes on for minutes.

We step out into the sunlight. I'm glad to be on a real route again, albeit one with the promise of larger, scarier Pokemon, and the grass is a far cry from the groomed courses of Kanto or even the wilder but still trodden down patches of Johto. This grass is up to my chest and the first thing to come out of it is an Ursaring, which Bronze wrestles into the ground without using a single move.

After that, I stay in the middle. The others push in on all sides, watching for wild Pokemon, but to my surprise (and relief) nothing proves to be any kind of challenge. Hyacinth can knock out the Rapidash in one blow, the Sneasel, despite being fast, are a joke defensively, and the Dodrio seem to be non-aggressive unless their Doduo chicks are attacked. We stay clear of them, and they steer clear of us.

"We should ask them if they've seen or heard of Red," Ten suggests.

"They don't live in the mountain, they live outside of it. We don't need intel on him, we know what he's up to." replies Shika.

"Woah, check this out!" says Ferro, who is nowhere near the rest of our claustrophobic huddle. I break out from the center, through an area with what must've been a path at some point in time, and into a dense area of foliage. Cut would be really nice right about now, but no matter. I push the plants out of the way myself, with a suspicious rustle, and I hit something that isn't plant matter at all.

An Arbok lunges out of the grass, and I scream in a manner unbefitting of a trainer or a human being. The Arbok hisses as a bright green blade cuts it down the stomach, but the cut isn't deep enough to kill this time. Instead, it slithers off, irritated, and the rest of the team scrambles to catch up with me.

"Old habits die hard." I say, hiding how panicked I am. My heart is still reeling from the sudden attack. "Ferro is right, though. You guys need to see this."

In a cleared glade lies a small structure, about half a story tall, with shutters and dust-covered windows. It's painted a soft yellow, like sunshine, though the paint is chipped in places. It looks forlorn on its own, like a Growlithe left in the woods by its owner to die.

"It's an abandoned cottage," Reginae says. He takes a step onto the patio, which creaks beneath his weight. "Maybe not in the best of conditions."

I walk up and take a look inside. He's right, it's not in optimal condition, but there's no signs of wood rot and outside of cobwebs and ivy growing here and there it's well perserved. Maybe Red used to use it as a hide out. Otherwise, this place should've collapsed long ago. There's even furniture still littered around, and a kitchen with decent appliances. The scent of dirt pervades the air, but I don't see any wild Pokemon. "We could hide out here," I say, "Before we go up there. It'd be a good place to set the groceries down, and we wouldn't even need a lookout like we would in the woods."

"I like that." Ethan says, "But I won't fit. I guess you'll have to withdraw me."

"I don't like the patio, but if the rest of the house is structurally sound, by all means, we should go for it." Reginae says.

I step back out and down the steps, patting one of the pillars supporting the overhang. "We'll be back for you," I tell the house. "So, who wants to check out the mountain before we go to sleep?"

When we reach the base of the mountain, we find that as always, Red has made sure to leave us a nice surprise. A Venusaur large as a boulder slumbers before the entrance of Mount Silver, it's face contorted into an upset snarl even in slumber.

"Remind you of anyone?" asks Ferro. The old team looks at Lilly.

"Shut up," Lilly says with surprising venom in her voice.

"We don't have to wake it up, do we?" asks Dusty. "I don't want to fight that,"

"It'll wake up in a few moments whether we want it to or not, if I know Red," I say, "And you better believe I know Red. We're basically best friends at this point. I'm going to climb this mountain with my bare hands and we'll make friendship bracelets and sing about our feelings. It's going to be fucking incredible."

The Venusaur must really want to make those friendship bracelets, because its eyes shoot open and it crunches the earth around it as it rolls onto its feet and prowls the ground. Its massive nostrils dilate as it fills the air with a thick powder, which is blown away just in time by Ten with one sweep of his wings. Sky and Khrys take to the air as well, with Aerie not far behind, and the others get ready for a land defense.

Shika, Fang, and some other Pokemon who can hit for at least neutral damage slam the Venusaur from all sides, which keeps the behemoth busy long enough for the sky brigade to rain all hell on it. Ten swoops down in a column of flame and with his wings crossed, sends a Sacred Fire right into the center of the Venusaur's huge, pungent flower.

Reginae and Bronze both bound forth on land, pulling at me to go, but I can't flash to both of them and their tugging is giving me a massive headache.

"You two need to cut it out." I say, clutching my head, and Bronze snorts, unapologetic, and rolls out.

Luckily, Ten, Sky, and Khrys already have it taken care off. Ten, happy to be with his fellows again, turns circles in the air. His huge wings were not made for these kind of maneuver, but he takes it in stride, dodging continuous lashing from Vine Whips and the occasional Sludge Bomb. Sky rushes in to take those, deflecting the poisonous orbs back at the Venusaur. Khrys chimes in with Silver Wind, and after a good few minutes of pummeling the three of them soar back from the Venusaur, whose red eyes close. The body decays to dust in seconds and fades out like the Charizard's.

"What the heck is it with Red and creepy exits?" asks Ferro.

"You should wait until you see him in the flesh. He won't stop grinning. He's like the world's most obnoxious Cheshire Purrloin." I say. Speaking of red things, the sunset is coming on fast now, and the grass is soaked in the color. Mount Silver's peak is also fittingly drenched in blood, though the effect there is dulled by the void that now blocks part of the sky.

The woman at the gate didn't say a thing about it. I wonder if Red's keeping everyone calm by some major force of programming. The idea makes me so uneasy that I shiver, even though it's the warmest it's been in weeks. I can be out here without a jacket, no problem. It's still nice to have on, for comfort reasons. I feel safer with the extra layer on.

That night, when we return to our new, cozy abode, Shika decides to make pie.

The first obstacle we face is the kitchen. I don't know what we expected, given we're miles from the closest civilization, but when I click the dial the oven doesn't vibrate with heat. It lies, dormant and unassuming, to Shika and I's dismay.

Everyone's favorite Typhlosion, who is busy rearranging formula and clearing the nature out of our new residence, strides over. "I can help with that. Here you go," Bronze lights a stick on fire with a quick Flamethrower, hands it to me, then goes off to get more. I place in the oven above where the heating coil is, which is a hasty replacement, but we're already working with whatever we've got.

Shika begins getting out ingredients.

Bronze yells from afar, "For the record, the plumbing's not on either. The electricity seems to be hooked to a defunct generator, though. With Lilly's Thunder, we could power it up!"

"Doesn't Crimson know Thunder, too?" I ask.

"Yes, but he can't fit in the house, so he's outside. He seems fine about it. We've got a night patrol and everything. So much for avoiding all that, eh?" shrugs Bronze. A more candid spark in his eye, I hear him thinking: I don't want to sleep next to him either.

I pretend I didn't hear that, getting the feeling it was supposed to be exchanged in confidentiality, and continue, "At least I won't have to withdraw Ethan."

"See? Upsides all around. I've got to go make sure the basement isn't an unsalvageable wreck. See you guys later." he says, "Good luck with the pie."

Several of the ingredients are already in a mixing bowl we found lying in one of the pantries, which also feature a few condiments and a lot of salt. I don't know how Shika planned to do any of this without bowls. The Stantler is trying to angle her horns into the bowl to mix the ingredients, but all she's managed to do is almost tilt the bowl over. She looks deeply unhappy as she sighs, "I can't do it with hooves."

"Tell me what to do. I'll be your hands." I say, "Or you know, we could flash. To me."

Shika shakes her head. "Ashley, we might be where we were when we last saw each other, but we were never that close." She continues giving instructions, and I continue to pour and mix ingredients before sticking them into a newly restocked oven. The "cooking time" is an absolute mess, and it's well over an hour later before the pie looks even edible, but none of my Pokemon seem to mind that we've cooked them a sloppy mess of an apple pie. Everyone who wanted a slice, mainly my sugar-happy canines, gets one, and when we're finished Shika sits by Ferro, discussing old times over a shared slice, and there's one last sliver sitting in the pan, undercooked but overpacked with apples and love.

I hear heavy rain on the roof and open the door to find Ethan standing there, guilty and in poor condition as the house. He drips with water, and his eyes are gaunt.

"Do you want pie?" I ask, holding up the dish. "There's a little left."

"No," Ethan croaks. "I'm full."

I feel the uneasy sensation settle in my stomach, slick and nauseating. He's not lying.

"I guess it's time we go to sleep." Lilly says, from inside. She nods to Ethan. "You'll be okay out here, right?"

"Yeah," Ethan lies.

The rest of us settle down inside, on a newly dusted rug. Dill jumps up onto a couch, which is broken five seconds later by Toxis, and Ferro curls himself over a large chair. I don't need any furniture. I've already got the biggest, meanest fur blanket there is, and I drape myself over Bronze's side with a contented smile, clutching his fur. Lilly, Fang, and Dusty cluster around, and soon we have a full snooze pile going.

They're fast asleep long before I am.

The house creaks at night, not surprising given its age. The scent of wood and the stale air cover up something more ominous and sinister, a presence that steals my breath in the dead of night and lurks around the corners of the small cottage before I can turn them.There are ghosts in this house, but I don't mind. For once, I empathize with Morty and his decision to choose Ghost-types as a specialty.

It's not always a bad thing to be close to your dead.