Patrick’s lungs burned, his legs carrying him forth pumping with his ever present companion: adrenaline. Footsteps behind him grew to a crescendo as the officers told their Pokemon to let loose and grab Patrick. A cloud of smoke rose up amidst the canopies ahead. Air left Patrick’s body as a paw slammed into his back. Arcanine supported its weight with one leg on top of Patrick’s sprawled body. Nickit watched from within the shadows of the trees, its eyes scrunched up in hesitation.

  “Attaboy, Arcanine!” A guard shouted.

  From the direction of the smoke a tongue clicked.

  “We’ve captured the rogue kid, over.” Another guard announced over the static.

  Another tongue click.

  “Hold him tightly, cuff his hands immediately. We’ve heard rumors around this kid.” The woman rolled her eyes as she stared down at Patrick’s pitiful body.

  A grunt followed the tongue click this time as someone rose up. A silhouette was drawn between the trunks as details filled in slowly but surely. A bushy, messy beard covered the lower half of his face, matted with grime, branches, and leaves. His hair mimicked the beard, hanging in wild, unkempt curtains. The remains of a white dress shirt adorned him, smudged with dirt and mud. Beneath the mess, a pair of dull, lifeless green eyes stared out.

  “Can’t someone get some peace in isolation?” The voice thundered, as the guards all jumped with a jolt.

  “Ch-chair—I m-mean, R-Rose?”

  He clicked his tongue once more. “Off with you.” He waved his hand away, as if waving the scent of garbage away from his nose.

  Arcanine tilted its head as it lowered the force it used atop Patrick. Its owner pulled it back into its ball and bolted away. The rest followed soon after, all running away from Chairman—no, former Chairman—Rose.

  Patrick raised his head with his mouth agape. He heard about Rose, who didn’t? But he never expected to see him in the flesh. Rumor had it he was serving a life sentence. Yet, here he was, standing in front of Patrick, his hair all tangled up, his clothes all tattered. He glanced at Patrick who lay beside his foot and wrinkled his nose. He sighed and turned back around to his campfire.

  “Chairman Rose? Is that really you?”

  Rose didn’t stop walking. “The Chairman is dead.”

  Patrick turned around to lie on his back. He stared at the canopies above, his mind churning. Nickit approached, its footsteps silent and spooked Patrick as it nuzzled its face. He rubbed its fur for the first time ever and basked in the faint sunlight streaming through the leaves. The ambiance of the forest resumed devoid of human noise, and Patrick felt at ease. The sounds of Pidove chirping, wind whispering through the leaves.

  Bushes rustled violently beside them. Pancham pushed through the branches. It pulled Zigzagoon by its scruff, dragging a faint trough through the dirt. Zigzagoon dropped to the ground with a thud. It laid on the ground, fainted. Pancham stood beside it, sweat covering its fur as if it took a dive in a lake. It dropped with a thud beside Zigzagoon.

  Patrick groped around in his pocket till he found it. A massive, yellow, spiky sphere that jutted into his searching fingers. With a trembling hand he placed the Max Revive onto Zigzagoon’s fur. The item got absorbed into Zigzagoon’s body, similarly to the Life Orb, it sank until one spike remained above its body and vanished soon after. A pale green light covered Zigzagoon for a second and faded away.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Zigzagoon moved. It shook as if thrashing in its sleep before opening an eye surrounded by the black star markings of its species. Another followed and Zigzagoon stared up at Patrick, jumping off the ground and licking Patrick’s face in joy. A long sigh escaped Patrick and whistled with the wind that traveled through the leaves. Zigzagoon lived.

  Patrick looked at the Pancham on the floor. It stared back with its eyes wide open. Every breath pushed its chest up and down with exaggerated movements.

  “Your master…would’ve been proud.” Patrick panted. “An honorable duel. Next time.”

  Pancham’s mouth betrayed its ‘intimidating’ scowl as it smiled. It pushed off the ground and stood, looking at Zigzagoon, who hopped in zigzags with joy, and at Patrick. Then, it disappeared back into the shade of the forest.

  The strong breeze carried with it the smell of food. The smell of roasted fish bombarded Patrick’s nostrils as his mouth watered. He remembered the berries he’d been using as sustenance thus far and stared at the campfire longingly.

  Zigzagoon sniffed the air, searching for the appetizing smell. Its nose kept sniffing as it kept its march towards the campfire.

  “Zigzagoon, no.”

  The raccoon paid him no heed as it kept moving. It entered the clearing where a huge log lay. Patrick and Nickit followed Zigzagoon, using it as an excuse to intrude on the person who was inches away from controlling the entire Galar region. His body shivered despite the warmth of the campfire. Rose sat on the large log holding a Magikarp on a stick above the flames.

  He grunted at their arrival. A red and dark gray metal glistened at the other side of the campfire. The sheen of the flames painted it orange. Several parts jutted out with sharpened edges. Patrick got out his Pokedex to confirm his assumptions.

  “Pawniard, the sharp blade Pokemon.” Rose glared at Patrick at the noise of the Pokedex. Patrick hurriedly lowered the volume as the voice kept rattling off. “Pawniard will fearlessly challenge even powerful foes. In a pinch, it will cling to opponents and pierce them with the blades all over its body. Any chips in its blades would prove fatal for it. After each battle, it diligently maintains its blades using its favorite sharpening stone.”

  Beside it, lay that same stone, perfectly round, shining with the light of the flames.

  Zigzagoon panted as it sat beside Rose eyeing the fish with drool dripping on the ground. Rose removed the fish from the flames and gave it to Zigzagoon, who munched it all down in three bites. Bones and all.

  “Sorry for the fish.” Patrick muttered, his heart hammering at his ribs. “I’ll make sure to teach it manners.”

  Rose clicked his tongue. “The Pokemon was hungry. It eyed its prey. Nothing wrong with nature taking its course.”

  He raised his lifeless eyes to pore into Patrick’s soul. Patrick stood, his feet nailed to the ground as Rose’s onslaught of judgment pushed through even his lifeless eyes. The stare shifted to the bulging pockets of Patrick’s shorts. He held out a calloused hand.

  “The rat still ate my dinner.” Rose said flatly.

  Patrick ground his jaw. He emptied his pockets and handed the contents to Rose, trying his best to not look at the stuff he was losing.

  “Huh.” Rose’s mouth crept up in what seemed like a smirk. “Is this Oleana’s son?”

  Patrick stiffened up. “Yes…I mugged the boy.”

  Rose flicked his head up and stared into Patrick. “You did what?”

  “I mugged the boy. Punched his face. Broke his nose. And called him a spoiled brat.” Patrick shrugged. “I don’t think I said or did anything wrong.”

  Rose nodded. “Nothing wrong indeed.” He threw back a few of the items and kept the ID card that must have belonged to Bryon.

  “If I may be pretentious here. Weren’t you sentenced to life in prison?” Patrick said.

  “Being sentenced is one thing. Being subjected to it is another. I choose what happens in my life. I tried the prison life, it took a year and a bit to realize it didn’t fit me. I’m now back to nature, not harming others nor being harmed. Away from the system.”

  That was the longest speech so far. Patrick noted.

  Rose nodded at Patrick and waited. The silence stretched on for a few minutes before Patrick relented.

  “I…I abandoned society.” Patrick said bitterly. “Or it abandoned me. Either way, I’m done playing by their rules. The gym leaders, the Macro Cosmos, the aspiring trainers who stand in my way. All of them. They’re all going down. The entire system will go down.”

  Rose narrowed his eyes. “Bah, you’re still a kid. You’ll go back to being an aspiring trainer a day or so from now.”

  Patrick balled his fist. His knuckles whitened. He punched Bryon. What’s there to stop him from punching Rose?

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