*Nathan's POV*

"What just..." I look around at my classmates, unsure whether to be grief-stricken or not. The kid that had been put on the spot by Mr. Richards stares at me with awe in his green eyes.

"You..." the words were caught in the back of his throat. He removes the hood from over his head, exposing his spiky black hair and green eyes.

"Me?" I ask him, trying to force him to finish his own sentence.

"You... He... Mr. Richards..."

"What Mark is trying to say," the female student (sporting vibrant red hair and brown eyes) next to him says,

"Is that nobody has ever stood up to Mr. Richards before. There was one day, during class, that he came in with a very threatening-looking Pokemon. I couldn't even identify it, myself, but he implied that he would use it as punishment for those that even dared to interrupt the silence that he values so much.

'Force is good for learning,' he says, 'because it keeps you rats in line.' Now, let me tell you something- I don't believe a word of that."

A bell ringing outside stems any sort of response that I could have said to him, but my mind is already abuzz, attempting to process any information that could help me in my secret espionage here.

"Anyone that can faze Mr. Richards like that is a good student in my book. By the way, my name's Sylvia," she smiles at me.

"Come on, Mark and I will show you around." She beckons to me to follow her, while the entirety of the class quickly stands up and heads for the door. A few of them forget some of their belongings in their haste, but that is the least of my concerns. For now, I suddenly have a very crucial insight into Pokemon Tech- a student that not only seems to be a veteran here, but also likes me after the stunt that I had just pulled.

This could prove beneficial... I wonder if this friendship will be of use later... I think, instinctively grabbing my drawstring bag and following Mark and Sylvia out the door. Maxwell tags a considerable distance behind me, and I can already guess the reason why.

He doesn't want to admit it, but that man did really scare him. I can see it- plainly written all over his face.

Outside, I expect that the entire hallway will be packed to the brim with other students. However, when I enter the hallway, I am greatly perturbed to find out that it seems to be...

Empty?! This is a university, right? So where are the dozens and dozens of other students?! A school of this size should have more than twenty or so students, right?

Immediately, I turn to Mark and ask the first thing on my mind.

"So, when is our next class?" He seems unsure of how to respond.

"Next class?" He fumbles for a second before understanding what I mean.

"Oh, here at Pokemon Tech, there's only three trials, as we call them. The first one will always be General Education, regardless of who you are and what you want to major in."
"And that's why we all have Mr. Richards," Sylvia buts in.

"He's so mean to every single one of his students, and there isn't any way that you can avoid taking his class." She gives the floor a sour expression.

"Anyway," Mark regains control of the conversation.

"Come on, I'll tell you a little bit about Pokemon Tech as we walk." He points to an exit on the other side of the hallway, and our group of four begins to casually stroll down the near-empty hallway. The half-silence slightly unnerves me, but I figure that I will get used to it soon, now that I have a connection here.

"So, you were asking about your next class? Well, normally, every new student is supposed to talk with Mr. Richards about their future major, and he picks a class for them based on that. However, he isn't exactly conscious right now, so... Why don't you come to our second period with us? It'll be fun with more than just the two of us there!"

I mull over the new development for a few seconds.

Well, I really don't have any better leads, so I might as well stay with these two for now. I think in the back of my mind.

"Alright, I'll come with you two," I say, and Sylvia's face brightens up.

"We're headed to the Biology room on the left wing. Class starts in about half an hour, so we'll just show you around a few of the areas while we wait." She and Mark turn back to the door in front of them, and he pushes the door open for her. I look back at Maxwell, who is finally catching up to us, as he realizes that we are headed to another part of the school.

"Come on, Maxwell. This could be our chance to unravel this mystery once and for all!" I say, hopefully, and follow the two departing through the door.

We walk along a large sidewalk that crosses through an area teeming with flora and fauna. A nearby bird Pokemon screeches and swoops away from the small bread crumbs that it is attempting to pluck off of the sidewalk. Numerous colors of flowers dot the landscape with an array of multiple colors, dancing in the wind with a gaiety that seemingly begets my opinions about the university. By the vivid colors around me, I assume this to be the main quad of the campus. A large bronze statue of a Pokeball stands in the middle of five large trees. The sidewalk labyrinthes up to the base of the pedestal, where an inscription reads,

"Pokemon Tech: Pokemon above all else."

I move closer to the statue and look at the writing once again. Although the sunlight is reflecting blindingly off the bronze, I can see another small piece of calligraphy, directly under the university's "mission statement."

It appears to be some sort of hieroglyph, but it's not like anything that I've ever seen before... What language is this, and what could it mean? I wonder... Thinking to myself, I hastily pull out my notebook and copy down the faded cuneiform.

Maxwell quickly sticks his nose into my notebook, staring at the contents.

"What're you writing about, Nathan? Got a crush already?" He smiles coyly, and I simply roll my eyes. This seems to spark another round of dialogue from Sylvia, who takes an interest in the writing.

"Oh, that," she mumbles.

"I've been trying to decipher what that writing meant, but I haven't been very successful. The library here doesn't have any records of those kinds of symbols, and everyone that I've talked to didn't know anything, either... Anyway, speaking of the library, why don't we take a look there? Perhaps you can find a book that you like. Come on," Sylvia wraps her arm around Mark's and guides him down one of the many sidewalks. I turn around to Maxwell for a half-second, and we both silently decide to follow them to the library, thinking in the back of my mind,

I think our "tour" is taking a little detour for now. I just hope that we'll learn something from this...

Past a few turns around trees and park benches, Mark and Sylvia eventually point to a miniature building in the distance. Mark turns to me.

"That's the library over there. It's a little small, but it gets the job done. Granted, since we only have three classes, Sylvia likes to spend much of her time here," he says, as we near the door. Much closer to the building, I am now able to fully assess the outside of it, and I wonder, for a second, how such a small construction could even end up in a university dedicated to Pokemon.

The outside walls are decorated with a dull yellow color, a shade that nobody, at least, nobody that I could think of, would find pleasant to the eyes. To further complement the library's Gothic attire, the windows are small and tinted a gray color. A single cobweb adorns the left side of one of the windows, and I watch a small green spider skitter up the side of the building and disappear. Sylvia makes a comment about a Spinarak and shudders, and I soon realize that the tiny arachnid is a Pokemon. Shrugging, I direct my attention to the upper area of the exterior. A small circular balcony juts out from a door that I assume leads to the second floor. A few small black sculptures line the railing, and I can only wonder how the breeze doesn't knock them right off the banister. I turn back to Mark and Sylvia, ready to enter the library, but I can't help thinking,

This building is so... Out of place? Why would there be any reason to create a library in this way? This belongs more in the setting of a horror story, not on the lively campus of a university run by a jovial man with an endless supply of Hawaiian shirts.

"Well," Maxwell puts his large hand on my shoulder, pushing my entire back down with it.

"I think this Mr. Geo Vannhi guy needs to hire a better architect. But that's beside the point- let's just go inside."

We all nod, and Mark places his hand on the large brass doors that herald the doorway to the library. It makes a loud creaking sound when he turns the knob. He has to push on the door for a few seconds, but it finally gives way and swings open. I glance inside tentatively, not knowing what to expect.

The inside of the library is equally as creepy as the exterior. The floor is made of nothing but mosaic stone, an odd choice for a library. Wooden shelves of books line the walls, which are painted the exact same white color as the classrooms and hallways. A score of cushions are situated next to a wall, and a group of tables that form a "U" face the entrance to the establishment. A few sheltered desks with computers, operating as if by their own free accord, sit buzzing against the back wall.

I look down at my watch.

12:05... We still have time to... Ungh! I look up when a mid-sized book hits me in the back of the head. Immediately, I whirl around and demand to know who threw the book at me.

Both Mark and Maxwell immediately deny that it was either of them, but Sylvia simply stares off into the distance with a blank expression on her face. She looks in the general direction of the newly-created hole in the shelf and says, like a mother disciplining her child,

"Now, now. You know that it isn't the right way to treat somebody, is it? I've told you before, no roughhousing in the library! Especially with the books- they aren't playthings."

I glance around in bewilderment, my confusion shared by Maxwell, who does the same.

Who is she talking to? We're the only four people here!

To my surprise, one the books levitates itself from one of the shelves and lands on a table to my right. Nervously, I walk over to it, and the book opens, landing on a page with an entry labeled, "Gengar."

Sylvia soon appears by my side, resting her shoulder on the open book.

"Oh, come now! We need to get to class soon," she sighs.

"You can haunt the library tonight, I promise," she continues to talk to the piece of literature, like it's alive. Still, nothing happens.

Sylvia rolls her eyes,

"Don't make me come in there and get you myself! You know how frustrated I get when I have to chase you around!" A few more seconds of silence pass around us, and the quietness of the library, coupled with Sylvia's escalated tone, unnerves me.

Finally, the book on the table shakes for a few seconds before placing itself back on one of the shelves. Before I can ask who Sylvia was talking to, a five-foot purple creature materializes in front of us. Its red eyes glow with mischievousness, further complemented by its wide-toothed grin. Two small purple arms extend from the apparition's sides, and it laughs heartily until Sylvia gives the creature a cold stare. It freezes, staring at her with a blank expression. Obviously, it's clearly afraid of her.

"That's enough for now," Sylvia says, holding out her Pokeball and pulling the creature into it in a burst of white and red light.

She laughs when she catches the confused expression on my face.

"You didn't know? I'm a Channeler- my specialty is Ghost-type Pokemon. I can commune with the spirits of the dead, and this includes that purple ball of mischief you saw earlier. You'd probably know it better as a Gengar," she says, matter-of-factly, as if I'm going to have a clue what a "Gengar" is.

"Alright, now that that's taken care of," Sylvia turns to me,

"Let's head over to the Biology Room and get you two acquainted with Mr. Seitzer. He's way cooler than Mr. Richards, but don't tell him I said that, OK?"

She smiles sweetly, and we leave the library with a loud creak of the door.

Personally, I'm glad we left there when we did. I was starting to lose my mind in the silence of that Gothic nightmare of a library... I think, as we jog through a few more doors and hallways. Mark and Sylvia soon stop in front of a large room with a steel door. The outside walls are covered in what appears to be tin foil, and, for a second, I wonder if this Mr. Seitzer is a mad scientist or something.

I glance at my watch, and, at the minute hand's discretion, I push open the industrial-strength metal door, which, surprisingly, puts up less of a fight than the library's brass variant.

Inside, the room is completely different than I would have ever expected.

The back wall is lined with rows and rows of whirring machines, none of which I can recognize. The "wallpaper" appears to be the same foil-like covering that I saw adorning the exterior of the room, making the place feel like an overly-sterilized doctor's office. Continuing my visual survey of the room, I can see three granite tables, each with a red toolbox on top, and a closed bag next to them. I can't help but wonder what could possibly be in there.

Some sort of creature, maybe? It looks like it's only a foot or so long, but I can't quite make out any of its features.

"Oh, well hello, you two!" a voice from behind me causes me to turn around immediately. By his appearance, I assume that the speaker is the professor of Biology here. He looks just like a typical lab geek, complete with oversized glasses, unkempt grey hair, and a lab coat that is clearly way too big for him. A large pocket is visibly stitched to the left side of the garment, of which a single blue pen is hanging out of. He holds out one hand to Sylvia, which sports a rubber white glove, and his blue eyes sparkle the same color as mine for a second.

If the entire world was taken over by science geeks, he would fit right in with the crowd... I try to stifle a laugh for a few seconds, waiting for him to properly introduce himself.

"I trust you both came prepared for the wonderful dissection lab that we have today? It is going to be quite a bit of fun, I can attest to that." The man smiles, and his pale complexion shows through for a few seconds, before being hidden behind another stoic face. He turns back to his desk and sits down at the revolving chair beside it. Like Mr. Richards's, his desk is stashed in the corner of the room. He silently watches the four of us, as if waiting for something.

"Oh, Mr. Seitzer!" Sylvia addresses him.

"These two behind me are Nathan and Maxwell, and they will be shadowing us until they get majors of their own."

"Ahh, new students!" Mr. Seitzer muses.

"Good to see that others take as much of an interest in Pokemon as we do here!" Mr. Seitzer stands up and walks over to one of the three tables and opens a red toolbox, an exuberant look on his face.

"And here, put these on. Things may get a big messy today," he says, handing both Mark and Sylvia a pair of large goggles, a lab apron, and two white gloves that match his own.

Mark and Sylvia walk over to the table, and I can't help but follow them.

I want to know what's in that bag. But, at the same time... do I really? I dismiss my thoughts and stare at the white bag. Mr. Seitzer unties the drawstring knot that holds it shut with the same enthusiasm that he had shown earlier. A small animal with brown fur and white tufts of fur around its neck spills out of the bag. The creature's eyes have rolled back up into its head, giving it an eerily glossy appearance. Mark and Sylvia each walk to one of the other tables and do the same.

Maxwell and I give each other an odd look, before picking one of them to watch. I observe Sylvia's operations, while Maxwell examines Mark's table. Following Mr. Seitzer's lead, the two prospecting biologists draw scalpels from their toolboxes and begin work on the creature, cutting a small incision directly under the base of the neck. A small amount of coagulated blood trickles from the cut, and, immediately, my senses are overloaded by the putrid stench emanating from the wound. However, t I can't seem to tear my eyes away from the experiment. I watch, through the wave of paralyzed horror that had suddenly come over me, while Sylvia continues to cut into the creature. As the teacher instructs, she effortlessly separates specific parts of the creature's insides and shows them to Mr. Seitzer as he walks by. I almost turn my head in disgust when he smiles at the recognition of each organ.

Three more mortifying minutes of staring at guts and congealed fluid pass. Then, although it may have just been my imagination, I swear that I could hear a small, weak voice come from the creature on the table.

All it says to me is a weak,

"Help," but it is more than enough to send me into a panic attack.

"I... I... I can't do this anymore!" I cry out, bolting out the door, my mind wracked with possibilities on what had just happened. I sit down outside the metal door to the Biology Room and resolve to never go in there again.

That voice... Was it just me, or was that creature really still alive? No, it couldn't have been- its eyes were rolled up into its head. I try to convince myself of my own self-denial, waiting and instinctively fiddling with the Pokeball in my pocket.

...

An hour and a half later, Maxwell, Mark, and Sylvia emerge from the room, and a large grin embellishes Maxwell's face.

"Oh, man, Nathan! You missed out, big time!" he says to me.

"There was all this cool stuff inside that I had no idea even worked like that, and, after we cleaned up, Mr. Seitzer brought out this massive blue metalloid Pokemon. He dared us to ask it a question that would stump it, but it was way too smart for all of us. Even Mr. Seitzer, himself, couldn't faze it with all of his knowledge. That thing could do calculations faster than a supercomputer. And..."

I stop him before he can continue to remind me of that room.

"Maxwell, I don't want to go back in there. Never again. There was something..." I trail off.

"Something?" Mark asks.

"What do you mean? There's tons of 'somethings' around here!" He looks at me for an answer, expectantly.

I take a deep breath and try, to the best of my abilities, to describe what happened to me in that room.

"I can't get the image out of my head, but I feel like that creature didn't want to be lab research like that. I could see something in its eyes... Through the milky haze, there was something- like the look a cornered animal would give, seconds before it was caught. That expression was grafted to its face. At first, I thought that I would be able to get over that, until I heard a voice, and it sounded like it came from the creature..."

"But that's impossible! That Eevee was very clearly dead!" Mark buts in, and I shake my head in denial.

"Call me delusional all you want, but I know what I heard! There's something definitely wrong with that room, and I'm not stepping back in there until I find out just what that is!"

I stand up, ready to leave, until a large hand comes to rest on my shoulder. I freeze, as do Mark, Sylvia, and even Maxwell. I can tell, just by their faces, that the man behind me is none other than Mr. Richards.

"Hello again, Mr. Richards!" I give my best impression of mock enthusiasm, but I refuse to turn around to meet his icy gaze.

"You don't have to be so tense, you know. I just came to apologize for what happened yesterday. I'll admit, I was a little rough on you for your first day. So I came with a little proposition for both you and your friend. I'll let you pick any major that you want, as long as it is within my power.

I remember back to what Mark had previously said about Mr. Richards,

"Well, normally, every new student is supposed to talk with Mr. Richards about their future major, and he picks a class for them based on that." So, if we get to pick, this could prove incredibly useful to gather information. But what major would I...

"I want Biology!" Maxwell practically shouts at Mr. Richards, derailing my train of thought with an exuberant expression on his face.

Mr. Richards smiles and pulls a small sheet of paper from the blue binder that he always seems to carry with him. He hands it to Maxwell and says,

"If Biology will be your major, than that will be your schedule while you are here, starting tomorrow. For today, just stay with Mark and Sylvia. And, one last thing," he tells Maxwell, raising an eyebrow.

"Take good care of it- I don't take kindly to my students losing handouts..."

Then, he turns to me.

"And what about you, Nathan?" he asks, gently extending his massive hand in my direction.

I... I don't know what to say... I can't say Biology... Not after what I saw- what I heard. I'll just see how long I can stall him, until I can think of a "major" that doesn't... I panic and quickly say,

"I don't know yet. I need more time to think."

"Undecided," he muses.
"Most kids don't stay like that for long... Well, I'll just let you think on it for a little while longer. I'll be back later tonight to receive an answer from you." His gaze narrows, and he soon disappears down the hallway.

My head's still spinning from the panic attack that Mr. Richards has just forced upon me, and it takes Mark resting his hand on my shoulder to bring me back into reality.

"Come on," he tells me.

"Soon, it's gonna be time for my favorite part of the day- Battling 101!" His eyes go wide, and I wonder what he could possibly be talking about.