"No, Shannon, please just stop chasing it," says Tikoh. But her tone is half-hearted, like she can't bring herself to actually get the girl to stop what she's doing.
"It's just a slime, Tikoh! You know they're not dangerous!" the little girl laughs. She chases after a small, gooey creature hopping around ni an ornate pot.
"At least don't go too far into the fog! I won't be able to see you if you run away!" calls Tikoh.
It's her own fault for getting distracted, because although plenty of people from different worlds ended up in Spirale, Tikoh didn't know creatures like this could, too. In fact, there are other things from the Sky Realm bleeding through in the fog, like familiar plants and small chunks of floating stone. And if a slime showed up, then who knows what other, more dangerous monsters could show up?
"Shannon? Where did you go?" says Tikoh, her ears turning to try and pick up the sound of small footsteps. "I told you not to run off! Shannon?"
A chill goes down her spine. Back in the Sky Realm, she wasn't able to protect Shannon- has she failed again? Who knows what's lurking in the fog? Tikoh breaks out into the jog, but all she finds is a surprisingly-tall human. His reason for wandering around can wait, as Shannon's safety comes first.
"E-excuse me, have you seen a little girl around here?" she says, panting. "About this tall... red hair? She was chasing a slime around, she probably just went too far..."
He’s been lucky thus far to keep away from the worst of the event’s effects. But he knows better than to trust anything so fickle as luck -- especially his own. So he’s stuck to the areas where the clouds are least thick and testing potential illusions by checking for their names in his phone.
Even so, his visibility isn’t the best in these conditions. His wings unfurl to illuminate the surrounding mist, but he quickly finds his back aching and burning from the familiar sensation of mana exhaustion. His powers must be waning again; unfortunate, as the fog has rolled in thicker here than he had expected and he doesn’t have any weapons ready in case of an attack.
There’s a wispy humanoid silhouette against the mist a few feet away that he swears wasn’t there before. He doesn’t need to check his phone to know that the figure is a manifestation, so he quickly pulls in his wings with a brief wince of pain and holds still in the hopes he hasn’t yet been noticed. Better to just slip away without confrontation than try to engage a potential enemy with his abilities sealed.
this mist is making some really weird things happen. there’s a copy of them here -- maybe it’s them from another time? but... something isn’t right about it. the other pokemon feels familiar, yet foreign in a way that kinda makes them on edge. they consider them cautiously...
"I'm... not totally sure, Shannon. There should be a settlement this way, but I've never traveled there by foot. Not to mention the fog makes it difficult..."
"Oh yeah, you probably took an airship, right? I've never been on one yet. Maybe you can take me on one?"
"They don't- Well, I'm sure they have something similar. I'll take you wherever you want to go, I promise."
The girl at Tikoh's side laughs as she reaches up to take her hand. Tikoh herself is still in a bit of a daze with everything that's happened, but she's heard that the island's branches have yet to be blanketed by the fog like the rest of the city has, and there are a number of cleared routes that lead out. It's fortunate that Tikoh found Shannon at all, but since she's here now, she'll do what she failed to do back in the Sky Realm, and keep her safe.
The confusing part is that the Shannon inside of her is still around, too, the girl's emotions coloring Tikoh's own. Jealousy? Sadness? It's a little hard for her to tell, but if it means she has to look after both of them, so be it.
Tikoh eyes the sides of the path, where tendrils of fog lap at the clearing. Every so often, she can see something moving, a vague shape displacing the fog around it. Despite her resolve, she still doesn't have any magic to protect herself with. And so when one of the shapes begins to move towards them, she gestures for Shannon to step back.
"Shannon, get behind me," she says, gripping her wooden staff.
"What's going on, Tikoh?"
"I don't know. Just be ready to run if I tell you to, okay? I promise I-"
The shape in the fog is faster than she thought it'd be. Tikoh reaches into one of the pockets of her coat and grips the handle of a scalpel she'd brought from home, hoping she won't have to use it. Whatever's coming at her finally breaks through the mist, and-
"Oh! Shinobu! You scared me there," says Tikoh, her ears flicking. Thank the skies it's someone she knows, though she could've done without the tension.
"Tikoh? Do I need to run?" says Shannon, tugging at her coat.
"No, this is a friend of mine," says Tikoh, smiling down at her. "So I think we'll be okay."
She looks back up at Shinobu, her smile flickering. "Sorry, it's been a... busy day. Are you doing alright?"
Tikoh raises her staff, which emits a dull golden light. A red-headed girl pops up from behind her, her bright eyes glancing between the doctor and her patient.
"Can I help, Tikoh?"
Tikoh's eyes don't move from the injured girl before her. "Thank you Shannon, but I can do this on my own. It's not a very big injury. You can just watch and learn from that, okay?"
The little girl sighs dramatically, but nods. "Fine..."
It isn't a flashy spell, which Tikoh prefers. Just a golden glow from the tip of her wooden staff, and the injury begins to heal; in a few moments, it's impossible to tell there was an injury in the first place.
"There, all done," says Tikoh, smiling. "Luckily it was just a scrape. The fog makes it difficult to see where you're going, so just watch your step, alright? Next time you might not be so lucky."
"But if you do get hurt, Tikoh can just heal you again!" says the little girl, grinning as she tugs on the doctor's coat.
"If I'm around. But it's better to not be hurt at all, Shannon," says Tikoh, giving her a smile. She looks back to her patient, ears flicking. "Are you feeling alright? Can you walk? It didn't seem that bad, but a lot of my magic's been limited, so I might have missed something internal... Tell me how you feel."
by normal standards, the city mew wakes up in is dark. the sky is pale and colorless, and everything that surrounds them is cast in a sickly grey. though there’s no wind, they can feel a chill cutting through their thin coat.
by normal standards, mew shouldn’t be relieved. but after so many lifetimes in featureless isolation, realizing that they can see anything distinct at all is... overwhelming. they have to take a moment to physically sit on the floor -- the floor. they can finally rest.
so they do, curled up tight on the ground. it’s the best sleep they’ve ever had.
when they wake up, though, the relief of seeing new surroundings has shifted into unease. the shadows are cutting darker silhouettes, and they swear they see something looming in the corner of their vision that flinches back out of view when they turn toward it.
maybe not the safest place to rest, then. they float up to begin exploring their new surroundings, though they stay close to the ground, as if in fear that it’ll fall out from under them again.
it looks like the island they lived in once. it’s hard to imagine anything existing that isn’t that emptiness, but they can at least remember that. there were humans there, and it was full of life and noise and emotion -- nothing like their current location. did... something happen to it while they were gone?
... of course something happened to it. nothing made by mortal hands would survive that eternity. it’s a miracle that there’s anything left at all.
but that means that the friends they made...
the... oh.
their... friends?
they did have friends once. they only exist now as warm, fuzzy memories, too faded to remember faces or names, but they know that much. it’s enough to motivate them not to sink to the ground and never get up again... right?
they keep moving, gaze unfocused and staring steadily down at the ground.
eventually, though, they begin to follow the lights lining the ghostly streets. it’s warmer under their glow, and with each one they pass, they feel a little more solid. maybe they’re supposed to go this way?
they aren’t really paying attention for a while, so they’re surprised when they finally look around and see the walls around them. they’re lined with paintings -- some are lifelike, almost real enough to touch, while others are abstract and colorful shapes drawn by a clumsy but enthusiastic hand.
they’re all memories.
those are some of the drawings they made for their friends. that one was from the time they took their friend to the hot springs. there’s the plate of food that a kind man left them after they made a mess in his home.
and there’s the two of them. mew and mewtwo. that’s them, curled up and fast asleep in the younger god’s lap as they stare pensively out the window of their shared home.
they remember them now.
are they gone as well?
...
they turn away from the painting.
there’s a strange machine up against the wall, and a door at the very end of the strange hallway. they almost want to smash the machine, though they don’t know why.
as they pass, it makes a little pinging sound, then spits out a piece of paper. they grab it and levitate it up to eye level, but none of the symbols make sense.
right. humans use these symbols to communicate, but they never learned their meaning.
before they get the chance to contemplate the paper further, they hear a click from the door. it swings open, and...
there’s life again.
humans. noise. life.
with a soft gasp, they dart out into the lobby. thousands of souls, of buzzing energies and auras begin to hum gently in the back of their mind once more.
this is real. the island never left.
a man seated behind a counter beckons to them, and they slowly, fearfully approach, as if moving too suddenly will shatter the world again. he reaches to grab the paper they didn’t realize they were still carrying, then stamps it with two quick star-shaped holes.
there’s a deep, warm sorrow in his expression as he wordlessly reaches out to scratch the top of their head. their eyes widen briefly, then shut tight, committing the feeling to memory.
the weak, raspy rumbling in their chest is a poor excuse for a purr, but it’s the best they can do after being silent for so long.
they could stay there for... well, not forever, but for a really long time. but they have more important things to do. they gratefully bow their head to the man, then turn and take one last look at the lobby.
