Chapter Seven: Cascade
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“I’ve long pondered why we were entombed in this place. Prophets say that it is because of the Fates. Priests say it is for our sins. Scholars claim that it is a stage in our evolution.
Only the dreamers claim that this is not supposed to be. It will be the dreamers who save us .â€
— Prophet Tiresias in the Towers of the Poets
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Tremors rang throughout the darkened void. Time and space held little meaning here. They had rejected it, so therefore the twisted realm had invented its own mechanisms to sustain life. It was a living creature. That flexed and breathed with every beat of its shuddering heart. Gears and engines were its flesh. The unshakable steel, its bones. The worlds it encompassed, the blood that sustained its desperate cling to life.
For three eons, this balance of life, death, and ceaseless cycling remained undisturbed. Its prisoners toiled away in the vain hope of wearing away the omniscient prison that engulfed them. Legions of souls chained hand and foot to its unfeeling walls kept the notion of freedom suppressed. Only those who had witnessed the shadow of death itself could see through the invisible chains that held them down.
The Abyss had been in a state in between growth and decay. Never progressing, never changing, and simply choosing to reside among the stinking refuse of its own stagnation. The false king held no power here. The dragon was pressed into the grime under the heel of man— a prisoner within his own domain. The victors had taken its sacred ground and the false king could only see the in righteous fury. The clanking of the gears broke the vision and the Quilava sank into the depths.
“Phineas. You are dying. Do you not care anymore?†the voice echoed from some forgotten place in Finn’s mind. The Quilava didn’t answer. There was no point in doing so. Nothing mattered to him now. He lost everything he had been given. His mother, his village, the Ventus, Itre, Sam, and soon, his life.
His mind lacked the will to allow his survival instincts to kick on. His body didn’t flail around in the murky water. His legs failed to kick upwards to the surface. Everything simply slowed to a stop as he floated downwards with the sucking current.
No. I don’t. Why do you care? Who the hell are you anyways? I’ve heard your voice before… Finn’s dimming mind retorted to the void. The muscles in his jaw went slack, allowing putrid water to trickle past his teeth. The languid fluid tasted worse than rotting meat, but his body could do nothing to expel it. He had no power to fight against his own demise. The Abyss would win at long last.
“I am the one who watched over you in the ruins of your home. You clutched at the body of your mother. I led you away before you starved. I brought you to safety. Do you remember?†He remembered the scene perfectly. The painful memories of two years prior were fast welling up from his fading mind. Finn felt the chill eat away at his bones during that harsh winter. He could see the cracking clay walls of his humble home and the flickering shadows cast upon them. Soft fur stretched tight over her gaunt body beneath his paws. Painful growls from his stomach drove him to tears.
“I am the one who kept you alive against the sickness. I gave you blood strong enough to survive the plague without scars.†Finn remembered that well. The weakened elders of his village called him a blight against them. He had recovered swiftly while the others withered away. Barely of age, he had been called a spawn of demons—for only demons could dance with the sickness without suffering, so they said. Only by his mother’s pleas had they not stoned him then and there.
“I never abandon my sons. Yet you are abandoning me. I refuse to allow you to let go of your life, Phineas. There are still great things to be done by you. By both you and the Savior. You must fight for your life, though.†Finn couldn’t think anymore. The short amount of energy that his drowning body still possessed was sapped away. He wanted to know what the enigmatic voice meant, but he couldn’t focus. His legs kicked uselessly as he sank into the depths. The Quilava’s actions did nothing to forestall the inevitable.
“Phineas! Fight! You must fight! You cannot die!†The voice was shouting now, but Finn could not understand it. The darkened world around him dissolved as his heart ceased to beat. The body in the water was no longer his. He did not own it; he merely resided within it until death spirited him away to the cold depths of Erebus.
Phineas! Phineas! My son! I will save you! Something shifted. The ancient gears of toil and war screeched into motion once again beneath the burning kingdom of the marshes. The inner mechanisms of the Abyss turned and shuddered to life. Finn was stuck. The Quilava was there, but not in spirit— both dead and alive.
Turbines long silenced stirred in the watery depths. Cold water rushed by Finn’s skin, making the last bit of his functioning nerves prickle with discomfort. No longer was he gently floating down to his crushing demise, but being sucked along by the current. It only got faster and faster as the seconds trickled by. The murky depths disappeared as they were replaced by riveted walls of steel.
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The aged Marowak still held onto the last of the air bottled up inside him. The chilling feeling of water against his flesh was ice against his wrinkled skin. As a creature of the earth, he knew he had little time until his end. His body tumbled in the dark water. His consciousness threatened to slip everytime he smashed into the rumbling metal walls.
Just as the turbulence was about to bash the Marowak into a pulp, everything changed. The enormous jet was water suddenly turned and released him. Silas was spat out of the tunnel onto a flat surface of cold metal. The Marowak clutched onto his staff as he rolled on the small wave over the floor. His mind spun while he gasped for precious mouthfuls of cool air. Silas blearily looked up and saw the gurgling spout of water eject Creon and Finn.
The grave-digger Pokémon weakly pushed himself up on his arms. The torrents of water spitting from roof were shut off by a heavy steel bulkhead. Silas’s breath hitched under his water-logged helmet. He gasped for breath and watched the singed Mightyena shudder to life on the grey floor. Finn however, remained still in a puddle of stagnant water.
“Finn?†the prophet wheezed as the tunnel shuddered beneath him. The dim lights far above his head flickered on and flooded the area in stark white. Silas grunted in reaction, the lights blinding him momentarily. The Marowak rubbed his eyes through the sockets in his helmet and he forced himself off the ground. Despite the aching pain burning in his bones, Silas sloshed his way through the viscous mire of water and swamp debris that pooled in the steel passage.
“Gah! It burns!†Creon howled to the Marowak’s left. Momentarily distracted from the potentially dying form of his apprentice, he cast a worried glance at the wincing Mightyena. The entire left side of his flank was nearly void of the coarse black hair. However, Silas hobbled past Creon.
“Finn?†Silas whispered. He knelt down in the putrid mire next to the unmoving Quilava. His trembling hands reached over the tranquil body of his pupil. With much trepidation, he felt Finn’s chest and under his chin. Silas felt his own heart skip a beat when the Quilava’s failed to produce a pulse of its own. He had always forced himself to remain calm and indifferent—it had been the way of his species ever since the dawn of time.
Yet none of that mattered now as panic sprouted in his mind. Immediately, his body shed away years of his life. Heaving, Silas scooped his comatose form of his student up in his arms and bounded through the standing water. Finn’s head lolled in Silas’s arms. Suppressing the urge to let out a whimper, Silas cradled his apprentice tightly while looking for a dry area to work.
Silas knew he was working against Dialga’s heartbeat as he carefully laid Finn down on the cold steel. The Ground-type felt the droning echoes of the Abyss’s clanging; it mocked his efforts to save one it had already claimed. Each individual rattle in the walls was a different voice chastising Silas for attempting something so foolish. They were the demons that had consumed Itre. They were the ones to take away his hope in escape. They had taken Sam. They would not take Finn as well.
“No! Do you hear me you damned machine?! You won’t take him! He’s all I have left!†Silas shouted to the mechanical processes that flooded the hallway with ambient noise. Returning his gaze down, Silas unclasped the pack from his back and knelt down beside Finn. The prophet tried to keep his shaking hands under control while he fished for the flasks of cordials. While he did this, he heard another groan come from Creon accompanied by a splash of sluggish water and the clattering of claws on the metal floor.
Silas paid the Mightyena no heed. Creon whimpered and staggered his way over. At the same moment Silas fished out a cloth bag, Creon collapsed next to him in a heap of black fur. Silas let out a cry of alarm. He was suddenly laden with Creon’s head burying into his shoulder.
“He’s gone, Silas… He…He’s actually … Gah!†Creon managed to choke out over a series of broken sobs. Silas was about to berate the brutish male over his pessimism over Finn’s survival when the prophet realized just who the former Ventus leader was referring to. Kaligo. The old Togetic was dead; his bitter flame held inside extinguished by the demon’s blade.
There hadn’t been time to mourn his sacrifice, and in the chaos, Silas had forgotten. Shamefully, Silas rose his helmeted head to the ceiling. His wisened eyes tried to see through the many layers of steel, stone, and water that separated themselves from Kaligo’s final resting place. His death had been nothing short of murder by the impetus behind the Abyss’s intricity.
As much as Silas wished to offer a small amount of comfort to the grieving Creon, he had a more pressing matter. He heaved the broken Mightyena off his shoulder and focused his full attention on the Quilava laying motionless before him. Threatening mechanical groans ran muffled behind the faceless walls of the forgotten hall. Ignoring them, Silas placed his hands on Finn’s neck.
The flesh carried little trace of life’s warmth. The aged prophet quickly ripped the small pouch he held open and dumped out the single item contained within it: a small golden seed. He looked at the seed briefly, held it in both hands, and snapped it underneath Finn’s nose. The Heal Seed had been a specimen he had been lucky to swipe from a few unsuspecting botanists many years before.
Unfortunately, the legendary curative properties seemed to have no effect —the potent dust merely dissolved on Finn’s face without waking the Fire-type. With the failure of his most effective medicine, Silas wracked his mind for what to do. His logic was bound and gagged by the overpowering thoughts of guilt, regret, and despair. His hands clutched the sides of his helmet. His spirit fell at the crushing realization that he was losing both of his treasured charges in the course of a day. There was nothing he could do.
It was the small trickle of water dripping from his helmet that brought him a moment of mental clarity. Clutching to a faint hope, Silas’s shaking hands gripped the smooth bone helmet and pulled upwards. The headwear shifted against his skin and small streams of water dripped from the interior. Silas gave a forceful push while he pulled his neck back. In an instant, the helmet detached from his head with a loud pop. The Marowak sucked in a deep breath as the water stuck inside the helmet dripped over his bare face. Once the water had stopped, Silas tossed the precious bone to the ground and bent over Finn’s unconscious form.
Processed air struck the bare flesh of his head, driving away the clouded thoughts. Silas knew he had to concentrate, otherwise he would certainly lose his apprentice. He didn’t have long before the long metal arms of their prison arrived to take him away to be recycled into the systems. He placed both of his hands on the very center of Finn’s chest and began to press down rapidly against it. Silas kept a loose count in his head of how many times he had pressed near the Quilava’s heart, but soon stopped and turned towards Finn’s head.
Come on, Silas. I have to do this! He has to survive! His thoughts screamed as the Marowak took a deep breath and leaned in forwards. He remembered the procedure practiced by some of the humans in Itre when he had observed their extensive medical ward. He kept his eyes locked on Finn’s chest as he pressed his mouth to the Quilava’s lips. Silas than breathed as he tried to force the energy of life back into his ill-fortunate student before the Abyss demanded him back.
Finn’s chest filled with air and deflated. Silas pulled away from his student only to press his hands down again and pump. The prophet grunted as fatigue ate away at his strength as he repeated the two step process for several minutes. However, the efforts seemed in vain. Finn failed to stir from his deathly slumber. Water had been forced up from his lungs, but his heart refused to beat on its own power. Meanwhile, the Abyss rumbled beneath them, each quake becoming more and more ferocious as its mechanical tendrils snaked through the walls on their search for Finn.
Silas felt the floor buckle and shift, trying to tear him away from the apprentice he had taught and protected for the past two years. Silas had snatched him from the verge of death so many times before, it became a common routine between them. Yet not even in his worst nightmares did he expect to be faced with the possibility of losing him forever. The rainforest often took its toll on the young Fire-type, but Silas had always been there to remedy Finn’s many sicknesses and broken spirit.
It was then, as Silas weakly tried to resuscitate Finn once again, that the Abyss finally had enough of his futile efforts. Gears and engines, stirred to life after eons of sleep, groaned as they turned. The floor heaved violently as Silas was ripped from his student and flung across the water-logged tiles. The Marowak slid along the unclean water, his helmet and Creon skidding along the ground beside him as Finn remained where he was.
“No! Finn! Don’t you touch him, you damned machine! Creon! Do something!†Silas shouted at the top of his lungs as he tried to get to his feet. He clutched his bone staff and used it to support his efforts to stand. The water sloshed against his feet as it stymied his efforts to rescue Finn from the multitudes of wires snaking out from the walls. Metal panels slid open as invisible motors suctioned up the volume of water from the maintenance passage.
Silas charged forward while Creon struggled to keep up with him. The slithering wires had reached Finn and to the prophet’s horror, had started attaching themselves to the Quilava’s chest. Their copper tendrils spread out over the area where Finn’s heart rested as machinery groaned as it began to charge faster and faster beyond the walls. Silas swung his weapon at the coiling wires separating him from Finn, batting away the enigmatic veins of the Abyss.
“Get back! Get away! Leave him be! He is not dead! He’s not dead!†Silas growled as he felt energy flow into the thick club and swung it once more at the sparking wires. This time, the wires were blasted back, partly clearing the passage. The Marowak winced in pain as he felt the shocks of electricity against his skin without the protect of his helmet.
However, just before he was able to breach the perimeter of conduits the stark white lights dimmed as Silas saw bolts of electricity jump down the coils of wire into they sunk into Finn’s lifeless body. Silas’s heart jumped to his mouth as he tried to muscle his way through the last of the wires blocking him. Finn’s body twitched on the ground as the very workings of the Abyss jumpstarted his stilled heart. As soon as the Quilava demonstrated an independent action of groaning in pain, the multitudes of wires immediately recoiled into the walls again. Silas stood there bewildered for a moment before he ran up and nearly tackled the wakening Quilava.
“The gods! You’re alright! You’re alive!†Silas exclaimed. The Quilava stirred fitfully, as if waking from a dream.
“G-glad to have you back, kid…†Creon whispered, still holding his head down. Silas didn’t acknowledge it, but noted the sincere tone from the Mightyena. Finn coughed and groaned again, stretching his stiff body in Silas’s grip.
“…Silas? Why are you holding me?†Finn asked, his voice clear and lacking any signs that he had traveled to the edge of death and back again.
Silas didn’t hold back on revealing the news. “I don’t know what just happened, but I believe it’s a sign. You were dead, Finn.†Finn’s eyes opened wide as soon as his recovering mind understood the statement.
“Wait a moment. I was dead?†He tried to squirm out of the Marowak’s arms, but the older prophet held him tight. Finn shot him a glare, ignoring that his teacher was without his iconic mask and continued to struggle. Unsatisfied, Finn raised his head up and looked around the brightly lit metal hallway. “And where is everyone else?†He inquired. As far as he could tell, the forlorn Mightyena pacing across the width of the passage was the only other Pokémon in the strange corridor. There was a distinct lack of companions as to what he last remembered.
Finn closed his mouth immediately when Creon let out an anguished howl that echoed down the iron corridor. Slowly, Finn managed to piece together the incidents from before. The darkness, the climb, the demon, and the fall from Itre. He recalled the scene; the cook he had grown to despise had saved them all at the cost of his life. A wave of guilt washed over him when he remembered all the ill thoughts he had towards the Togetic. Finn bowed his head and tried to recall the prayer his village used upon a death.
“Guide the fallen to the light. May they not travel by night. Let not the Abyss hold their demise, but allow Elysium to be their prize,†Finn stated, loud enough for both of his surviving companions and the malignant forces of the Abyss to hear. There was more to the rite, but Finn couldn’t recall it word for word. Finn pursed his lips at the regret of Kaligo’s death.
After another moment of silence, aside from the continuous clanging and workings of the Abyss behind the walls, Silas released Finn from his arms. The Quilava shot to his sore feet and proceeded to lean against the cold wall as he tried to walk once more. Currents of pain flowed through his wobbling legs as Finn attempted to shove one foot in front of the other.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Silas get up from the damp floor and retrieve his discarded bone helmet. Silas held his skull in his hands and leaned against the metal wall. Creon sat opposite the two, stopping his near-manic pacing. Just then, gears shifted and shuddered behind the walls as the machinery reversed itself loudly.
“So, shall we go? I think we’ve waited around long enough, don’t you think?†Silas remarked as he flipped the skull over in his hands and gazed into the empty eye-sockets. Creon looked up at him and barred his teeth.
“Have you no patience, Silas? Can’t you grieve for the dead?! Your own apprentice can barely walk, the girl is missing, and you still want us to move on?!†Creon snarled. The wolf nodded his head towards Finn, who slipped off the wall and collapsed on the floor. A miasma of tension and burning oil hung between the two Pokémon. Ignoring him, the Marowak took a rag from his bag, spit into it, and proceeded to clean his skull of accumulated grime.
“The Abyss waits for no creature, neither ‘mon nor man . I am well aware of our losses, but we cannot grieve long for the fallen. You and Kaligo are the ones who demanded to join this venture despite the risks. He fell valiantly and I am indebted, but to cease progress would be an insult to his memory. He died so that we could carry on towards escape, Creon,†Silas countered without looking up from cleaning his helmet. His hands worked the cloth inside the empty orifices as it wiped away layers of dirt and sweat.
“What of Sam, then? Wasn’t she the linchpin of this entire trip? Didn’t everything depend on her, or what that all a lie too?†Pure anger flew him the Mightynena’s mouth with every enraged word. A burning ache in Finn’s heart made him gasp for air, yet it wasn’t from injury, but longing.
Sam… Where are you? He needed to know Silas’s answer just as much as Creon, if not more.
“She remains crucial to this undertaking, make no mistake Creon. She may be gone, but if what I saw with Finn is any indication that we are destined to escape, then she will survive! Tiresias will protect her now more than ever!†Silas spat as he got to his feet and slipped the intimidating skull over his face once again. His arm snatched up his staff and thrusted it upwards. “That is our goal, Creon. The Surface. Now, either you can remain here and wallow in your grief, or you can join us and survive. There is no time for grief. Treasure the living while they are still by your side. Now, Finn, let’s go.â€
Finn was startled out of listening to Silas’s captivating dialogue. With a weary nod, Finn shouldered his own bag, which somehow survived the descent from Itre and near-drowning, and shakily marched behind the stalwart Marowak. They only walked a few feet when they heard Creon’s claws clatter against the steel. A lump formed in Finn’s throat. He had to ask him.
“Silas? Do you really believe that Sam is okay?â€
“… Based upon what I’ve seen today, Finn, yes. Something is watching over her, same for you. … You both are needed alive it seems.†With that vague answer, Silas turned around from his limping student and continued to hike upwards. Always onwards, always upwards.
Until they found the door. It was small. Barely taller than a human, but it was there. The way forward. Silas eagerly approached it and beckoned him and Creon to come close as well. Finn dizzily walked up and placed his paw on the door. His mind tilted and his vision spun. In his mild delirium, he blinked and saw Sam touching the door next to him.
His eyes widened further when she turned and looked at him.
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He was only human— a simple, powerless human. He had armor, weapon, and partner, yet against the mechanical might of the Abyss, he alone could only do so much. He had been born and raised under its dark banner and mimicking lights. Every day he wore his armor was a day he prepared for this moment— when the Abyss rose to destroy them. Fire and mortar shell were the torrential monsoon winds, and the ash their blistering winds.
Blood stained the royal crest of Itre embroidered on his armor. Heavy boots stomped down the rungs of the metal ladder while their owner fled the flaming chaos above. The guard sweated in his skin, having just survived the Abyss’s wrath on the Itre. In his mind’s eye, he could still picture the massive fires igniting in the vast, drying marsh.
Gordon’s hands shook with nervousness with every foot he descended. He could still feel the tremendous vibrations far beneath the surface from the massive artillery barrage pouring out from the ceiling of Wing 435M. Immediately after he left Silas, the Abyss’s mechanized weapons revealed itself. Like clockwork, they gunned down the hoards of demonized citizens and guards with bullets of steel. The man looked to his left at the Abra silently floating beside him. Lassus’s protective powers had been the only reason he survived the barrage.
Despite his instinct’s urges to flee, Gordon continued to climb further into the ground. At the bottom of the shaft, there were voices. A sigh of relief welled up inside him. On the floor of the chamber was the majority of the guard corp— each man and Pokémon that wore the seal of Itre was battered and their faces covered in ashes. Gordon looked around at the metal room. It had been a long time since the entire squad had been called here.
The chamber was a carefully kept secret of the Countess and the guard force. Beneath the feudal and archaic society of the marshland was a vast mechanical station. While Gordon had only been inside it once before, he knew what its purpose was. On every wall and catwalk were levers, pipes, vast enclosed viaducts, and massive turbines to power the equally large water pumps. They knew that any problem presented by the Abyss could be resolved if they switched enough levers. From keeping the flood waters under control to restoring proper light during the winter seasons, they had figured out how to cheat the Abyss.
“Red Squad, escort the survivors down the east tunnel entrance! Wait for my signal to lead them up the ballast tower. Blue Corp, you lot get to work on shutting down the guns! Grey and Gold Squadrons, the gas and plasma arcs. Go now!†The guard captain was a grizzled Pokémon, listing out orders to the panicked security force with swift ferocity. His crimson carapace clanked against the metal catwalk. The Scizor put his own claws to work on shutting down the Abyss’s wrath. Sucking in a breath, Gordon ran up to his senior officer, foregoing the customary salute.
“Ahh. You two. Report. What is the city like?†The worn bug briskly asked.
“Sir! Lassus and I were the last! T-there’s no one left topside that we saw!†Gordon hastily replied. Lassus nodded behind him, affirming his claim to the officer.
“It be truth, captain. We are the last. Itre burns with fire from heaven’s torches.â€
The Scizor cursed in the language of the Bugs and glared at them. “Go up. You both must look through the secondary passage. The Countess must be recovered … if she survived, that is.†Both human and Abra returned a salute and briskly walked across the shuddering catwalk. Alarms flashed red from the ceiling and klaxons blared incessantly, yet all around the chamber humans and Pokémon fought alongside against the towering mechanisms.
“Pump Valve Three is offline! Relieve the pressure on Brine Tank Four! It’s taking on double the water! It’ll burst its bonds if you don’t step to it!†The Scizor continued to screech. Gordon’s heartbeat quickened with the fervor of activity. He had never seen the station under so much stress— he wondered if the aging pumps and switches would hold up or break down. Regardless of what they did, the Abyss was still scorching the marsh above and draining their water. If they gave up now, Itre would be a smoldering lake of fire.
Lassus floated next to him, just above his shoulder as he always did. “I fear the worst. I think we will not see Itre again, my dear Gordon…†He looked up at his friend while his hands passed over the rungs of the service ladder.
“Surely you do not mean we will perish? Lassus, you are not usually so dark,†Gordon returned with a confident smile. His shoulders heaved as he hefted himself onto the higher platform. Boots clanked on the metal once again, gauges strained with steam, and pipes groaned under the water pressure. Gordon ran his gloved hand over the massive, shuddering tubes as a deep rumble shook the chamber.
“Gordon. Run. Run right now!†Lassus’s voice shot into his mind, making the human flinch. He looked around the pump station; there was no discernable cause for alarm. No warning bells, no panicked shouts, no sudden discharge of water, nothing outside the system’s normal maximum operation. Yet the Abra beside him shuddered in the air, his limbs trembling fitfully while his claws gripped his temples. “Gordon. Please! We. Have. To. Go!†The Pokémon whimpered just before shooting forward down the catwalk.
He cast an unsure look at the others. They were all occupied with their valves, pipes, and gauges; too lost in their maze to notice him. His head jerked back to his partner, already halfway to the next level in the chamber. Gordon sighed and began to stride down the metal walkway. His heavy boots and armor making a tremendous clamor with every dogged step he made, but he didn’t relent in his chase. Slowly, the distance between him and Lassus’s fleeing form closed. Stale air whipped across his face and the ground shuddered beneath his feet. Turning his head back one last time, Gordon at last saw the fulfillment of Lassus’s prophetic words.
Steel walls, their height and depth unimaginable, swiftly disintegrated. The massive sheets of riveted metal buckled and blew apart, sending shrapnel and innumerable gallons of water outwards. The catwalk and decks behind them shuddered and tore away from their mounts, sending Gordon to his knees while the floor swang and shook. His hands gripped the railing, barely holding on as the lower levels of the pump station became a swirling vortex of bilge water spewing from the gargantuan ballast tanks.
Gordon pulled, trying to place his swinging feet on a solid hold on the swinging catwalk. Water sprayed at him furiously from the fractured pumps. Each drop was fire on his exposed skin. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes. However, despite his strength, he could not heave himself to safety with the armor he wore and his arms were roughly blown off the rail by a jet of water. Yet, instead of falling into the gurgling drain with the rest of his comrades, he blinked and found himself standing on a shuddering floor. In front of him, Lassus floated, his eyes glowing mauve and holding an arm outstretched.
“No time! Move, Gordon! Move!†Gordon pushed himself off the floor, snatching up his spear just before the grating heaved once more. Both he and the Abra ignored the screams echoing from the drowning corp with heavy hearts. Gordon punched his chest in an attempt to stifle the fear. He lifted his helmet off his head and flung it to the ground, alongside the heavy shin, elbow, and arm plates of his armor. He did not get to finish shedding his metal skin completely.
Just then, the flooding room quaked and he was slammed into a wall. Slightly dazed, Lassus’s claws snapped him back his senses. The Abra floated behind him and shoved his back, moving the confused human forward in the face of the rising torrent of water. In the ruined station behind them, another volley of blasts shook the Abyss. Walls of water replaced the walls of metal. With a cry of fright, Lassus grabbed ahold of Gordon’s body and psychically threw him further down the tunnel.
Gordon stumbled slightly, slipping his spear into its sheath on his back, and haphazardly careening down the metal corridor with Lassus flying through the air beside him. The floodwaters surged, submerging the station, and plunging it into a hell of sparks, smoke, and death. Gordon sprinted, breathing hard while the Abyss rumbled. All around the two guards, the maniac prison shuddered and sparked. White lights turned to a bright red that flashed in rhythm to a blaring klaxon. Barely stopping for anything, Gordon dashed down the passage with the rising bilge lapping at his heels.
A convergence of paths appeared ahead. He had to decide now which way he went: right or left. His boots splashed in the marsh water and his eyes struggled to remain open amid the bright, red alarm lights. The human grunted and pushed himself harder, closing his eyes for an instance as he dashed through the flashing corridor.
“Gordon! Watch out!†Lassus’s voice popped into his head with as a scream. The guard opened his eyes just in time to watch himself collide into a mass of black and crimson fur. He felt his chest heave, his stomach lurching at the impact just before he and whoever he crashed into fell to the floor in a flurry of curses.
“Damn the gods! Gah! What the hell was that for?!â€
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Darkness was their path ever since the door had sealed shut. Not a single pinprick of light penetrated the omniscient void that surrounded them. Only the sounds of Ince’s heavy, sob-ridden sighs and Dmitri’s claws clinking against the stone gave Sam reassurance that they were still alive and not stuck in some worse purgatory.
“Are you two holding up alright?†There was a small waver in her voice. Not surprising, given all that they’d been through, but definitely not the cool head that she was trying to project. The Servine couldn’t see anything in the deep darkness, but she heard the Zoroark’s and Swanna’s footsteps halt.
“I’m doing less than fine … I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all … Never mind about me, I’ll be fine. I always am, in the end. How are you holding up, Sam?†Dmitri’s voice shot out from the darkness. Sam took a moment before answering.
“I’ll live. Ince?â€
“Are you sure, Sam? I mean, you were right there with me. You saw everything—†Dmitri began before he was cut off with a loud wail.
“Why did you bring me?!†Sam blinked in the darkness. Ince’s voice was a far cry from the regal Swanna of yesterday. She was broken; a tortured cry that rose from the depths of despair. “I should have died with my city! I needed to die with Itre!†There was silence in the tunnels, punctuated only by the Countess’s wrenching sobs.
“I understand. It’s the idea of the captain going down with the ship. However, isn’t it better that a part of Itre survives? As we were leaving, we all saw…†Dmitri began, but stopped at her anguished cry.
“It is my duty to protect my people! Why should a failed ruler like me live when my kingdom is burning?!†Ince spat while fuming with a mixture of crushing sadness and anger. Sam couldn’t clearly see the Swanna in the darkness like Dmitri, but she was certain that Ince was on the verge of breaking down.
In the back of her mind, the memories of the human life she was forced to leave behind resurfaced. With the tension of the past week, she had little time to reflect on herself. However, she knew that she had experienced a similar loss. Sam took a deep breath and walked forward to where Ince’s sobs came from. Without thinking of what might happen, she stepped forward, pressed herself against the grieving Countess’s feathers, and gave her a reassuring squeeze.
“Ince… Breathe. Just breathe…†She didn’t know what else to say. Sam only hoped that her own sorrow for the Swanna would transfer. She gasped when she felt Ince’s neck rest against her own. The Flying-type took several rasping breaths, and was soon coherent once again.
“T-thank you… T-thank you-u, my dear…†Ince whispered softly. Beneath her embrace, the Swanna breathed while her sobs she grew less and less frequent with each subsequent exhale.
“W-we need to keep moving…†Ince panted and drew herself up, “There’s a place ahead we need to reach. It’s Itre’s last hope.â€
Beside them, Dmitri placed a claw on Sam’s shoulder and gave her a nearly imperceptible jerk of his head. “We’ve gotta keep moving, sweetheart. I’ve sworn by blood to protect you and we’re by no means safe here. Come on,†he whispered to the Servine before rising. Nodding in affirmation, she gave Ince a tender pat on her back and slowly pried the distraught Countess off her. She whispered comforting words into Ince’s ear as the bird composed herself.
“Alight. Now, not meaning to be insensitive, but we need to keep—†Dmitri began, but was interrupted when the entire wing shook around them. The Abyss they lived inside and loathed flexed its tremendous muscles; Sam could see the metal grooves in the floor ripple under her feet. A hiss sputtered through the ventilation in the ceiling, followed by a single drop of water falling through the grating and landing on her nose. Massive groans and metal screeched echoed throughout the dark passage. A pulsing heat suddenly washed over them, causing Sam to pant and the leaves on her back to wilt.
She turned to Dmitri, who was clenching the wall tightly, an expression of terror painted on his face. He met her eyes just before he tore his paws away from the metal. His mouth opened and she heard his voice crack in preparation to speak, but it was immediately drowned out by a massive explosion of sound and light. The ceiling suddenly blazed in an almighty flash of red light; the long-abandoned lights sparking fitfully with the strain of electricity. Sam let out a small eep in fright while her leaves protectively flew to her eyes.
“Gah! Bright! Too bright!†Dmitri yelled, covering his eyes as well. Sam tried to blink in the sea of flashing red light, but she could barely remain stable with the Abyss’s shudderings. “M-Move! Keep walking, damnit! We can’t stay here! Sam! Get Ince! Drag her if you must! I’ll scout ahead!†With that, his black form dashed forwards and out of Sam’s sight.
“C-Come on, Ince! We’ve gotta move!†Sam grunted as she pulled on the Countess’s white wing. The Swanna, despite her slight moment of coherence before, seemed to be plunged into hysteria again.
“F-fire. Fire. Fire from above… Fire taking us all… The Prophet… The Prophet forsake us to the fire…†Ince mumbled, her feet numbly moving along the quaking passage. Within the walls, machines groaned and sputtered. Sam blinked as more droplets fell on her head while she dragged the passive Swanna behind her.
“Ince! Use. Your. Damn. Legs!†Sam said in between furious grunts. Without her willing them, a pair of vines sprouted from her back and wrapped around Ince’s wing alongside her hands. The Countess made no response other than another round of fevered mutterings and a numb stare as Sam forced her to move. The Abyss decided to distract her progress by adding a deafening siren to the flashing red lights. Beneath the piercing tone, Sam could hear hissing words spoken in a language she didn’t know coming from the loudspeakers.
By sheer strength along, Sam soon had them both jogging through the blaring alarm. It was a tremendous amount of work, but she kept them going. She tried to yell at Ince, but she doubted the fearful ruler would care if she could hear her. Huffing heavily, she strained her eyes to be on the lookout despite the inhibiting flashes of light.
Deep inside her heart, she stuffed down her emotions. She wanted to hear Silas’s wise and eccentric words. She even wished to be with Creon and his sporadic insults. However, most of all, she wanted Finn. She regretted going with Dmitri last night and being separated from him in her drunken haze. Her eyes flashed with a flurry of anger. The Abyss had done this to them. It had been the demon it sent to Itre and the destruction it was causing now that separated her from her closest friend. At that moment, while sprinting down the unstable corridor towards Dmitri, she vowed that she would use whatever abilities Tiresias claimed she possessed to tear the Abyss apart until she found the Quilava again.
In the chaotic light ahead, she saw Dmitri cross in front of an intersection and fall to the ground with another figure. She yelled in alarm and furiously dragged Ince behind her, not caring for the deadweight Countess’s squawks of pain. Sam had just about reached the point where the Zoroark criminal lay tangled with the armored figure. Given a few uninterrupted seconds, she would have tackled the attacking human, but her attention was disrupted by a surge of murky water that nearly tripped her. She stumbled in the surf and clutched the wall while the two males punched and kicked each other until they managed to scramble and untangle themselves.
“D-Dmitri?!†The bewildered human blurted out upon recognizing the Zoroark. Dmitri stood against the wall, protectively shielding Sam and Ince while holding out his claws at the human.
“That’s my name. What’s it to you? Best keep those weapons of yours down and tell me what’s with the water,†Dmitri growled, his fur bristling whist wearly eyeing his spear. The human didn’t back up and instead slowly inched forwards in the rising water.
“W-wait! I’m not here to attack you! … My name’s Gordon! Gordon Lasanti! I’m an Itre guard! We’ve met you before!†The fatigued human gasped for breath as the familiar, golden Abra shoot into place beside the guard. Gordon’s panting immediately ceased when the human caught sight of both Sam and Ince standing behind the Zoroark.
“Dmitri Zoroark, we mean you no harm. We arrive as friends, but right now, the floodwaters rise from the fractured ballast tanks. We must flee. Gordon, grab the Countess! Dmitri, you and Samantha run with us upwards!†Lassus spoke, the Abra’s voice erupting inside Sam’s head like an unexpected migraine.
“C-Countess! You’re alive! T-thank goodness, Your Highness!†Gordon exclaimed, ignoring the knee-high waters and kneeling in front of the Swanna. “What will you have us do, Your Majesty?â€
“Not to burst your devotion or anything, Groudon, but I don’t think she’s fit to give orders and we don’t have the time. Either you pick her up or I will, you hear?†Dmitri growled while Ince prattled on about the fires from heaven eating her tree. As if to reinforce Dmitri’s statement further, Sam tugged on the Swanna again, only to have her numbly step forward. Dmitri waved his paw at Ince. “See? She’s dead-weight for now. Carry her or else, Sam, you can leave her to drown.â€
“I… I… My Countess…Are you …?†Gordon slowly whispered even while the water lapped at his chest. Sam struggled to keep her neck above the water while both Dmitri and Lassus reached a mutual breaking point.
The Zoroark strode forward through the sloshing water, plucked the apathetic Countess from the bilge and shoved her into Gordon’s arms. There was little remark from the guard other than to straighten to his feet and clutch the Swanna tightly. Sam could see the utter confusion on the human’s face of the notion of having to carry his ruler when she was incapable of walking for herself. When Dmitri was sure the exhausted guard was going to hold her, he turned and faced her.
Sam struggled slightly when his claws reached around her chest, but she stopped when he pulled her from the water. She felt a chill pass through her before finding herself pressed against the criminal’s bushy mane. Soon after, she felt him press his leather satchel into her arms.
“Just hold onto it, Sam. It’ll be easier the less swimmers we have and the less baggage I drag,†He grunted before nodding to Gordon and the Abra. As if to mark their renewed push for higher ground, the Abyss shuddered again and seemed to increase the klaxon’s volume. Beneath her, Sam watched Dmitri and the human slog through the debris-ridden bilge water while Lassus floated above them, nearly touching the low ceiling. Gordon appeared to be working against tears and collapsing while he held Ince close to his chest. His head and shaggy blond hair turned towards the Sevine and his eyes widened.
“Sam! You’re here? H-how… Oh, this is wonderful! He’ll be happy now!†Gordon quickly exclaimed, his words slurring together in his tired delirium. Dmitri sighed and slapped the human across his cheek.
“Keep moving! Do you not see the water rising?†Dmitri snarled, pushing through the water with another show of force. Sam could easily see the signs of the chaotic day wearing on him too, but he refused to let it show. Just as he had calm and collected while he bargained for his life against hers, he seemed even more determined now to keep the stoic persona.
Despite Dmitri’s vicious remark, Sam was intrigued. Gordon’s sudden exclamation had something behind it, she knew it. There was something he knew and she would find out what it was once they were safe. She would interrogate the sullen guard soon enough.
The corridor rattled and light fixtures sparked violently. Sam glanced at the arcs of electricity jumping from the exposed, aged wiring and dreaded what would happen once the flooding water reached them. A shudder passed up her spine.
No. Definitely don’t want to find out what that’d be like, she determined while she wished Dmitri would move faster. The thief was finding it increasingly difficult to keep solid footing in the water. His waterlogged mane weighed him down, yet he didn’t stop. Even as the Abyss roared and the current pulled them back.
“There is a door fifty paces ahead, just around the bend! I’ll go ahead and see if I can open it,†Lassus mentally remarked. The Abra’s eyes glowed a light purple before he zoomed off, rippling the water beneath him. Dmitri cast a weary glance at Gordon, shaking his head in silenced frustration.
“Doors, doors, doors… Always doors…†the Zoroark muttered before lifting Sam higher on his shoulders and slogging through the debris. The floor pitched and groaned under their feet. Unseen pumps and valves beyond the steel walls strained and hissed with the pressure; they could not hold the mighty tide back for long. In another fit of fury, the Abyss growled, its churning mechanisms grating against each other in rage.
Water boiled around them, forcing its fatigued occupants to flee higher and higher. Lassus, far ahead, took the liberty of teleporting Gordon and the fallen Countess a few paces forward to keep up with Dmitri’s furious rate through the water. Behind them, the Abyss roared. Sam stole a solitary glance back down the passage only to see a wall of water exploding up at them. The Servine’s body went cold and her eyes widened.
“Dmitri! F-Flood!†she screamed, her grip nearly tearing into his skin.
The Zoroark focused on salvation, nothing else. With a deep breath, his form rippled under Sam, the dark fur seeming to grow transparent against the churning liquid. The thief was zipping through the water with the power of night. His form changed — the fox-like body melting under Sam and shifting into that of an orange and yellow weasel.
She had never seen a Zoroark transform before, it wasn’t something anyone saw unless they to become prey for the species. Yet now, she sitting on top of one as he finished the illusion and seemingly became a Floatzel. Sam scrambled to clutch onto the yellow, inflatable ring on his back before Dmitri shot forward. The illusion was utterly complete. If Sam hadn’t seen him shift with her own eyes, she could have a hard time believing the Pokémon beneath her was originally a Zoroark.
Dmitri split the tide apart. The duel-tail spinning rapidly while he blasted through the rising water. Ahead, he could see the door, barely above the water-line, and both the human and Abra struggling to get it open. With a quick maneuver to propel himself further, he shot onto the raised, metal platform, gasping for breath. Sam tumbled onto the floor, water dripping off her scales and the soaked satchels. The square path rumbled and shook. Water sprayed and burst from the walls, its pipelines collapsing under the strain of destruction.
Lassus wasted no time. In an instant, he appeared next to Sam and clamped his claws around her leafy hand. With a rough tug, the floating psychic pulled her across the floor to the sealed bulkhead door.
“Samantha, the door is sealed. I cannot remove its locks. Please,†the Abra pleaded, motioning to the metal surface. “Please, let the Prophet speak true to you. Command the door to open, lest we drown!†Weariness fell from her body with Lassus’s penetrating mental broadcast. She would have yelled at him if a crashing wall of water wasn’t bearing down on them.
The Servine faced the imposing steel. A glint appeared in her narrowed eyes. She had to succeed. If she truly had the power supposedly given to her by Tiresias, then it had to work now. The bulkhead was impressive, nearly synonymous with the wall of seamless metal it was set in. Despite the basic mechanisms of hinges and bolts, the door lacked something vitally important: a handle.
Um… Tiresias? Her thoughts called out. Yet the voice that had guided her before was nowhere to be found. For the absolute first time, Sam was alone in the Abyss. The human and three other Pokémon gasping and silently pleading with her were not the friends she had made before. They were guards she’d met twice before, a queen who was more interested in her as a means of escape, and a shape-shifting thief who held her hostage not a full day prior. The leaf she pressed against the cold steel did nothing to the locking mechanism that held it in place.
She leaned her head against the door, tears of despair beginning to well up in her eyes. She slammed her leaves into the metal, yet nothing did any good. She refused to look behind her at the surely crushed expressions of the motley group. Without the integral piece, the door might as well have been a mountain.
Perhaps, my dear, you should try looking to your allies. Separated you may be, but work together you still can…†Her head shot up and looked around for any trace of the enigmatic Tiresias, yet there was no sign of him. However, there was Finn touching the door beside her. She blinked in confusion. There was no way he could be there. He was somewhere else, miles away or even dead. Yet, there the Quilava was, his form flickering in the shuddering light.
“Finn?†She was just about to move closer when a rough claw shoved her to the side.
“Obviously the Prophet has failed us again. Let me fix this!†Dmitri snarled, rushing forwards and shoving Sam to the side. She slid around the ground and passed through the flicking form of Finn who then vanished. The thief growled, shed his Floatzel disguise, and placed his paw on the door. “There’s a reason I’m good to have around,†he huffed.
The blasts continued behind them. The weak metal barriers and bulkheads couldn’t hold back the advancing deluge. Dmitri raised a claw, took a deep breath, and exhaled. At once, his entire paw became shrouded in a bright, red mist. Before Sam could question his action, his paw darted forward, plunging into the steel as if it was water. Dmitri sunk his paw completely inside the door and moved his arm around.
“Come on! Come on! Where are you at?!†He cursed, his head fearfully looking back at the shuddering, flooded tunnel. His arm plunged in further while his swears grew more frequent. Sam watched alongside a heaving Gordon and Lassus, unable to do anything but pray that they make it out alive. Far above their heads, the Wing 435M burst into flames. It’s death throes threatened to bring the passage down on them before the flood.
“There! Found it!†Dmitri whooped suddenly. Turning her head to the Zoroark, she saw his arm jerk and his paw pull free of the mechanism. Like clockwork, the hidden gears clanked and whirred, and the mighty door let out a hiss of steam. Hinges screeched from years of disuse, but slowly, the great barrier swung open wide. Sam blinked in the bright lights of the new Wing beyond. After her time spent in the dim evacuation passages, she couldn’t see what was beyond the door. But it didn’t matter.
“Time to go, dear!†Dmitri yelled, his voice high with excitement. While she stood blinking stupidly in the new light, Dmitri reached forward and grabbed her by her neck and tail. She yelped in protest as the larger Pokémon picked her up with ease. She continued to flail in his arms, not able to ignore the pain shooting up and down her back. “Abra! Get the human and the Countess! No time to waste!â€
Suspended in the air, Sam could only stare ahead at the back of the tunnel they had come from. At last, the barrier broke. A wall of muddy, putrid water surged through the passage. Her eyes widened.
“Dmitri!†She screamed. Her heartbeat spiked upwards and she struggled harder, her leaves and legs kicking in the air in an effort to escape the flood.
Fortunately, the Zoroark had a plan. He huffed, raising her in his arms, and tossing her tail-first through the open doorway. She flew in a small arc through the air and landed with a loud thud on the hard ground. Dazed and disorientated, Sam watched through blurry eyes as Dmitri and Lassus shoved the stumbling Gordon and Ince through the threshold. Once he and the Abra were through, they both worked together to push the heavy door back into place.
Water leaked and surged through the gaps while they struggled to seal it closed. Dmitri grunted and let out a yell, digging his claws into the packed dirt and shoving his back against the metal. There was a tense moment, a brief moment where the flood threatened to break through Lassus’s psychic field and Dmitri’s strength. But, the fear was misplaced. In a great groan, the bulkhead door slammed against the straining current and clinged into place. The locking mechanism let out a series of clicks and whirs, fastening the door once more.
Both Dmitri and Lassus fell to the ground at the moment the door sealed. The Zoroark slid against the smooth metal to the dirt, panting hard. On the other hand, Lassus struggled to hold his head up after he fell from the air like a stone from the power he exerted.
“That… That was unpleasant…†Lassus groaned inside their heads. Sam’s eyes fluttered, exhaustion wearing on her body. A sharp shiver shot up her spine and she curled up on the ground, trying to keep warm and wait until the sensation passed. Despite her fading vision, she saw a tiny, white flake fall from the sky and land on the tip of her nose.
Is that…snow? They were in a new Wing now. The marsh, the train, and the rainforest were miles behind them and whatever this new land was stood in between them and escape. She let out a sigh and let her eyes close at long last. Tomorrow would be another chance to survive this new hell.
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[b]“What is the meaning of this?!â€[/b] A voice, great and powerful, shook the world.
“It is as you said, sir,†Another being, its voice dipped in the mechanisms of the Abyss.
[b]“Do not play coy with me! You went against my orders! My orders! You dare attempt to kill them against my orders!â€[/b] The chamber shook. Chains strained against their fastenings.
“To my understanding, they are dangerous beings, are they not? Attempting to escape. Trying to destroy the Abyss. Yet, it is you who does not want them dead? What has come over you, Warden? Any other time you would praise me for my attempts at killing them, but now, you wish them to live… Why? What differs with them than the thousands of others?†The second being’s voice remained calm and colder than metal that surrounded them.
[b]“Nothing differs with them! I just wish to see them here before I annihilate them! They intrigue me,â€[/b] The mighty dragon, the Warden, breathed. Desire masked by its gravelly tone. Opposing him, the second being unsheathed his terrible sword.
“Warden… Forgive me for being so bold, but I suspect that you have lost your wits. Bringing them here would be the demise of this world. Warden, I am afraid I cannot let you have your way here…†An anguished screeched tore through the entire Abyss. The ethereal prison of millions shuddered at the defiance.
[b]“YOU! YOU DARE! YOU DARE DEFY ME! YOU CAN’T DO THIS! I AM THE WARDEN, YOU LISTEN TO ME, VALAC!â€[/b] The foundations rattled and Wings shook with rage. Every steel bolt grew hot and quaked at their master’s fury. And amid it all, a confident laugh.
“I serve the Abyss, not its Warden. I’m sorry, old friend, you are not my master. I will do what is right for the Abyss… Even if it means killing the ones you wish to see.â€
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End Chapter Seven
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