I squinted as I barreled down the mostly empty highway. The glare of the sun shined through the driver side door, threatening my peripheral. I had lost track of time and wasn't even sure what direction I was going. It didn't take long for me to figure out the direction. Part of me wanted to stop, but I couldn't. I needed to be somewhere else... But where?

My eyes soaked in the starlight as I continued driving. I struggled to find a gas station that was still open at the late hours of... 《Jesus, it's 12 already?》 I managed to find one eventually, though I had to pay in cash. 《That was inconvenient, and I'll need to find an ATM soon,》 I thought to myself as I left the area, the stars as my guide and the rocky hoodoos as my company.

《Damn it, what was I thinking?》 I somehow ended up in Arizona while navigating Utah. 《I wasn't! I WASN'T! I'm in a state that borders California and arguably has more crime than most of California! Fucking damn it!》 I could only find some peace in the fact that I had picked up gas in some place. 《«Timberloin», I think it was... The fact that I can't remember it is just a testament to how much I don't want to be here... No time for rest.》 My car tried to accelerate even faster, the engine groaning.

Daylight came and went without much fanfare. My eyes stung as I faced the sun. 《Fucking sun... Why has god made such a cruel device, with its only purpose to sear my eyes?》 I passed by a city sign as I began searching for a gas station, reading "Truth or Consequences, Population 5916." ≪Should I be searching for the truth? Or will I only find consequences here?≫ I chortled at my own joke, my only reprieve from the fact I was still stuck in Arizona.

≪Shit, I didn't know Arizona had a Kansas border...≫ The sun had already set as I rolled into Liberal, Kansas. My eyes were peeled for a gas station, but I couldn't help but lament how poorly educated I was.

It was really hard to tell where I was anymore. I went south for a bit, before literally driving into the sunset. ≪I ended up into Colorado while following I-25? I think? The signs are hard to read... they should be in Comic Sans monospace. That'll help a lot.≫ My eyes still stung from the sunlight, and the noises of the engine were starting to grate on me. 《What was even the goal of this again..?》

《Safe... Not safe...》 My head pounded as I rolled into the gas station. I looked around, frantically looking for some... thing. I didn't even know what. Something just did not feel right. 《I gotta keep moving,》 I thought to myself. It took a bit of time for me to work up the courage to leave the car.

《I'm pretty sure I've been to this town before,》 as I rolled into town. I'd caught myself going in circles more than once at least once. Each time pissed me off more and more. 《It's hard to even tell where the road lines are! Everything is so blurry! How was are the roads this poorly maintained!?》 I pulled into a gas station, taking a brief breather to steel myself for the journey ahead. I still wasn't safe, not yet.

My head pounded as my car vibrated, rolling over the bumps in the road. I growled at the sensation, yanking the car back between the blurry lines, only to feel it again moments later. The sun in my provided painful stimulation as I kept rolling along. It made me want to stop, but I fucking couldn't. It was too close, I had to keep going, there was no way I was going to stop that close, never ever ever ever ever!

A loud whooping noise distracted me from the road, causing me to nearly veer off. I looked up to see the bastard responsible for the noise, flashing their bright red and blue lights. It took me a slow ass minute to realize that they were the police. ≪God damn it,≫ I thought to myself, ≪just what I FUCKING NEEDED!≫ I slammed my fist into the steering wheel a few times as I pulled over. ≪Fucking pissant bastards,≫ I mouthed.

I spun the lever, rolling down the window with all of the fury I could muster. With my fury expended, I could calmly remove the keys... And CHUCK THEM INTO THE FUCKING SUN! They went flying out the driver side window and into the dirt somewhere. I opened my door to retrieve them, but I heard shouting. It was just enough to make me realize that opening my door with a cop headed directly towards me was a bad idea. ≪Most definitely. Absolutely. Don't do that. Got it.≫

≪While I'm thinking about it, probably should get my wallet out... yeah, yeah...≫

I scrounged in my pocket, whipping the damn thing out just as the officer approached my window. I took a quick and very, very, very deep breath, and exhaled. I looked over as she arrived at my window, my eyes barely registering the details of their face.

"Howdy. Do you know why I pulled you over today?"

"No sir, I do not." ≪Wait, a minute... Oh, that's a female officer.≫ "Er-... ma'am..?"

I couldn't quite tune into the first part, only vaguely hearing "reckless driving," but the question that followed couldn't have been clearer. "Have you been drinking?"

"The fuck's that supposed to mean? No! I-I-I've been on this road for too long, far far too long! I couldn't have been drinking."

"Okay. Cool." They reached for their pocket, producing a device. I couldn't quite figure out what it was. "This is a breathalyzer, I'm going to ask you to take a deep breath and breathe into this thing for as long as possible, okay?"

"Er-yeah... sure, sure." I took the breathalyzer and... 《what was I... oh, right.》 I breathed hard into the device. Whatever it took to get me back on the fucking road.

The device, predictably, read zero BAC. ≪Victory, you fucking faggot. Now let me back on the road, you bastard. You're wasting my time!≫

The officer looked at me, bewildered by... something, or another. I didn't care. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step out of the vehicle."

My fist very, very nearly met the center of my steering wheel once more. It took almost everything I had, and a little encouragement from the fear of arrest, to not rip off the faux-leather panel and punch the airbag directly. I took a quick deep breath in, and then exhaled with all of the grandiosity of a dog admitting defeat.

As soon as I was out, they started doing a couple of tests. You know how on TV, they have you stand on one leg and recite the alphabet in order of 13, 1, 26, 14, so on and so on, and so on? Yeah, that shit is boring in real life too.

"I now want you to walk nine paces in a straight line, making sure to step in front of your own foot." I could already feel my sanity draining as I processed the instructions.

"Are you fucking serious right now?"

She shifted a little uncomfortably. "Yes sir, I am serious."

I dramatically groaned and complied. I felt myself teeter back and forth, but I didn't use my arms to balance myself. ≪Cool, I didn't fall over, and I didn't need to jut my arms out to catch myself, or lose my balance at all. I'm fit to drive, let me back alread-≫

The police officer had followed me to the end. "One more thing... I'll need you to stand on one leg for 30 seconds."

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" I exploded. I could feel my blood churning in my veins as my sweat pores began to itch. "I'm not fucking drunk! You've already seen that I didn't fall over!"

"Sir, please calm down-"

"NO BITCH! This is a fucking needless exercise of your power and-"

"Please calm down," she repeated. I couldn't read the voice, I couldn't care.

"Who the hell do you think you are, telling me to calm down!? You're just distracting me from... from fucking getting out of here! Out of this state! Away! You know, away from what chases me! I DON'T EVEN FUCKING DRINK!"

"'What chases you?'"

"How the fuck can you not see-CALIFORNIA IS RIGHT THERE! IT'S FOLLOWED ME THIS ENTIRE TIME!"

As I gestured wildly to the direction of where the sun had risen, she had a blank look on her face. It was a completely unreadable expression that only caused my blood to boil further.

"Right," she finally said before I could speak again. "Look, please return to your car. I'll find your keys."

≪The least you can do for pulling me over.≫ I headed back to my car, settling into the seat. The fabric was rubbing me the wrong way, so I readjusted. I readjusted again. No avail. Things never go fucking right. 《Well, since I'm here and about to leave, I'll just lock the door...》

The officer approached the vehicle after far, far too long. I didn't see my keys, and her face continued to be unreadable. Before I could internally remark on things, she sprung into action... or at least she tried to. It sounded French to me.

"Come again?"

"How long have you been driving, sir?"

≪Ngugh, really..?≫ "Uh... let's see... I've seen, I think... Twooo sunsets? Maybe?"

"Two sunsets sir?"

"I ain't confident on that, but that's what I recall."

She muttered to herself, taking a step back from my window. I felt a prickle of dread that I could not articulate. "Sir, I'm taking your keys," she finally said. She said more, probably justifying it, but I couldn't get over it.

≪You fucking bitch! What are you doing this to me!? What did I do wrong?!≫

"Ma'am, you can't... you can't, you just can't! I have to get out of here!"

We talked past each other for what felt like hours, the sun's light burning my face. I was throwing everything I could think of, and I guessed the incoherence of some of the statements made her walk away. I tried to open my door, but found it unwilling to budge. Unadulterated fury coursed through my every muscle fiber as I watched the police car pull past me.

For a few minutes, I simply sat in silence, stewing. Eventually, I broke. Sobbing, I slammed my fists into my dashboard. The brittle plastic and the past patch jobs shattered with ease. This only further fueled my rage. I slammed back into my seat's back, multiple times. Each hit progressed a headache that was forming. Not wanting to further damage my dash, I turned my hits from the dashboard, to myself. The pain was the only thing that kept me grounded.

Morning came before I even figured out what happened last night. I wasn't awoken by the sun shining through my windshield, but rather a loud knocking on my door window. It would take several knocks before I'd bother removing the blanket from my face and letting the cold seep into my muscles.

Every part of my body ached as I groggily stared at the figure standing in front of my window. I slowly processed their outfit... 《Ah, shit, it's the police.》 With a sigh of resignation, I rolled down my window. The very slightly colder air outside snaked its way in, its tendrils wrapping across my face. "Morning officer, how can I help today?"

"G'Morning. Did you rest well?" The officer stared at me intensely, scanning my face.

I threw my hands up in the air, before shrugging. "What time is it? It feels like I only got four hours of sleep."

"It's currently seven-twenty two AM."

"Shit officer, I went to sleep at four-something. I guess I got as good of sleep as I could've in those two hours." My attention meandered to the rest of the car, and my aching legs. I winced as I saw my damaged dashboard, the fragments of plastic and tape laying on the engine covering. 《Damn it, that's going to take a while to repair.》

"Right... License and registration, please."

I fished into my pocket for my wallet, only to find that it wasn't there. I sat up straighter, looking around, before spotting it on the floorboard. I'd slowly grab it, holding it up to the officer before trying to get my ID out. It didn't want to budge, but a bit of tugging managed to pull it out. I handed that over, before going to the glovebox and grabbed the registration. That was a lot easier, I only ever kept it in one spot, and it was never hard to get it out.

"Hm. You look just as upset on your license," he remarked as he looked over the details.

"Yeah, god decided to curse me with the appearance of eternal rage." 《Not the most professional remarks from you, huh?》

"It's not just the appearance," he said cooly. He'd hand everything back, saying that "everything checks out. You also seem relatively calmer, compared to the reports from last night."

"Yeaah, though I feel like I'm about to fall back asleep again." I stretched with a groan, feeling my bunched up muscle fibers separate. A wave of ecstasy rolled down my back as I did so, my groan turning into a yawn that used my whole body.

"So, I take it that you are declaring yourself not fit to drive?"

"Dude-Sir, I mean, sorry... Uhm, I'll be fine. I just want to make it to a motel or a hotel so I can rest in a real bed."

The officer weighed his options for a minute, looking down the road. I followed his gaze, the Route 60 sign barely visible from here. It took him what felt like twelve minutes before he finally gave his verdict. "I will accompany you to the country inn. It's the cheapest one here. If I flash my lights though, I expect you to pull over and surrender your keys."

"Shit officer, do I get a choice in this?" I tried to muster up a sarcastic voice, but even to me, it felt flat and tired.

"I could just not return your keys," he confirmed bluntly.

《'Kay, not sure if that went though. Probably didn't, shit.》 "Uhh, no thanks. Just escort, please."

"Very well." He passed the keys through the open window. "I repeat myself, pull over if I flash my lights."

"Yeah, yeah. I don't need to be told thrice." I watched in my rear view mirror as he entered his car. Once he was in, I put the keys in my ignition. The belt quietly squealed while the engine groaned as I tried to push it up to speed. ≪Ah, shit. A new problem to worry about... I really fucking hope that my belt doesn't need replacement.≫

The trip was, frankly, uneventful. I zoned out at least twice, hypnotized by the nearly empty road. I could thank the lord-and I did-for it seemed like the lapses in my consciousness didn't really pose a problem for me actually driving. It was bad I wasn't forming memories here, but I didn't swerve, or drive terribly dangerously, and when I finally saw buildings populating my perpherial, I no longer had to worry about the road hypnotizing my tired brain.

The police officer pulled into a bizarrely themed motel named the Billy the Kid Country Inn. The little lettered sign proudly declared they had DirecTV and HBO. 《Oh, how quaint! I remember when my hometown motel advertised color TVs,》 I reminisced as I pulled into the giant dirt lot myself, and parked my car next to the dumpster.

I pulled the keys and tossed them to the floor in the passenger side. The officer left his vehicle, approaching mine, which gave me the cue to roll down my window. The cold morning air bit my face once more, which confused me a bit. 《I... I don't have the heater on. How did it warm up?》

"Alright, Valentine, Kristy is inside. She's a wonderful person, she'll take care of you. Just ask her and she'll help you. Do you need anything else?"

I thought about it for a moment. "Uh... Ah, not really. Thank you officer."

"Of course. Now, I order you to rest. Don't get back onto the road until you feel well rested. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, yeah..." I sighed. He began to leave, but I had a growing feeling within. 《I don't feel particularly bad about it right now, but... I really should pre-empt it right now before that flower grows.》

"Hey, officer?" I interrupted his exit. He turned around, face steady and stern. "I just want to uhm... apologize. I don't really know how bad I was last night, but if you see the officer who pulled me over, could you tell her that I'm sorry for being difficult?"

There was a silence that threatened to choke me. My bleary eyes could not process quite what his face was doing in great detail, but he seemed to be mulling it over. "Very well. I will do so. Is there anything else?"

"No sir. Thank sir-er-" I blew a very quick raspberry at my own mistake, temporarily defusing the stress and anxiety that came from the mistake. "Thank YOU sir. Eugh."

"Okay then. Take care, alright? And stay off the roads until you're well rested!" He turned around once more, and walked off. I used the moment to sink into my seat, exhaling slowly. My heart pace quickened as I finally let my modicum of control slip; letting my emotions play out so that I can finally sleep.

《What a trip. What a road trip...》

The police officer pulled away, pangs of regret hollowly echoing my chest. 《I did what I could,》 I told myself, but I couldn't help but ask myself, 《was it enough?》

I walked down the central street of the town I had stayed in the last few weeks, idly surveying the environment. I didn't have a destination in mind, I was just trying to burn off energy this mild evening. The air in New Mexico was surprisingly warm compared to California. I didn't understand how that was possible, and nor did I really care. I just enjoyed the room temperature state for what it was, even if I was walking right through the strangely unsafe village that I had called my home for the last 13 days.

One of the first things I did once I was forced to stop driving was get a gun-or at least attempt to. The gun took much longer than I was comfortable with after having to deal with the Ninetales, but eventually I did get my very own Walther PK380. It wasn't really my first pick, but when most pistols went above the 500 mark, I was going to take something that was only 480 bucks and had cheap, readily accessible ammo. I was reminded with a dull pain that the holster had a habit of shoving the grip into my hip when I tried to do my typical wide side-step to the right, trying to get out of the way of a bicyclist. Unfortunately, there wasn't much I could actually do about that, so I'd just have to suffer through the rest.

I found myself near the library, my base of operations for my work-all 3 programming contracts that I actually did. Two of the jobs I had found shortly after the police took my keys away were pretty simple, and took maybe 4 days a job. I didn't really pay much attention to the passage of time during them. Boring patch work, finding a bug and fixing it, the usual stuff that I was great at, but I couldn't really help but feel unfulfilled by. I wasn't making anything, I was just the clean up crew to someone else's mistakes, and it was unlikely they'd even care about me once I was done with it.

The third job, however, was something I was certain I'd be remembered by, and it most definitely was the job that proved myself to myself and freed me from my self-induced agony. I was dubious initially, thanks to it being an email with a number of strange typos and bizarre key-replacements, and some very bizarre and somewhat vague requirements, including the part where I had to program for two different processor architectures, but they approached with an up front payment of around a thousand dollars. I needed that money badly after buying the gun and nearly going into debt over it, and this was a challenge I had been looking to cut my teeth into. The request was for a simple graphics demonstration with well commented code-in raw Z80 and 6502 assembly, and fits on a casette tape.

It took me a while-and a couple of emails-to realize that the contractee wanted me to create something for the Commodore 128. It was very hard, because he kept giving the wrong computer names each time I asked, until he finally sent me a blurry picture of the machine. I went round and round in circles about how fishy that job was, as I had before, but ultimately I came to the same conclusion I had when I finished the job: It's probably the fact they approached me with such a big paycheck and an email that read like someone was attempting to evade spam filters. I had learned after the fact that it was actually a college student who had just started college at some prestigious college, and was starting an assembly homebrew club there. He wanted examples on how to program for these ancient beauties he had acquired off of Ebay a few weeks prior. I had no idea why the hell he typed like that, but I was glad to help the man out.

As I left my thoughts, I realized that I didn't know what part of town I was in. 《I have to be close to the library, I wasn't deep in thought for THAT long,》 or so I thought so, anyways. As I looked around, I only saw houses, houses, and more houses. A vulture flew over head, reminding me that despite the waves of Pokemon being reported on the news, I hadn't really seen any since I'd gotten here. Perhaps this small village just didn't have enough people to make it super noticeable, or more likely, I had gotten so absorbed with myself during my depression that I just wasn't paying enough attention.

I decided to keep walking, but figure out where I was. I fished my phone out of my right pocket, tapping the screen twice to turn it on. 11:11 AM. 《Yeesh, it feels way later than that.》 I passed by a house with multicolored strobes illuminating the windows. It was blasting, the street rumbling with the bass. Through a repetitive "la" and a synth track, I caught the lyrics, "Ooh, you touch my tralalala... Mm, my ding ding dong."

I had to do a double take at the song playing. Faint memories of ROBLOX flooded my mind as I stared blankly at the house in raw bewilderment and amusement. 《Shit man, when's the last time I heard this song? I think it was Starman3's fucking ROBLOX Gone Crazy. Or was it JJ5x5? Oh god, maybe it was someone else... I say that maybe rewatching all of those videos when I get back to the library is an order.》 I lingered around, soaking in the absurd song for a moment longer. After about half a minute, I decided to return to what I was doing before. I could still feel the vibrations in my shoes as I walked away.

My phone screen had gone dark, so I double-tapped it before drawing my delta pattern password to unlock the phone. Once it was unlocked, I navigated to the maps app to try to figure out just how far I'd wandered. As it turned out, I had taken a left and crossed the street without thinking almost directly after the library, and had walked to the end of the curling cul-de-sac. 《At least I haven't walked that far,》 I thought to myself as I turned around, taking the first step out.

As I passed by the house with the flashing lights, I stopped myself to listen to the song. The music had changed to Scatman John, specifically his cover of Invisible Man. 《Who the fucking hell is sharing my exact music tastes?》

I rocked my head side to side to the beat of the rapid eurobeat-or at least the best as I could. As I did so, I considered knocking on the door. ≪Would it be that weird to knock on a door to meet a man just because his music tastes are epic? . . . Yeah that's a little weird. Better not.≫

Despite my resolution not to knock on the door, I found my reluctance melting away as I inched a little closer to the house. I kind of wanted to see what was next. 《Just one more song, what-what is the worst that can happen? I'll just stick slightly out of the way of the window so he doesn't notice.》

After a few more minutes of the song, a terrible nausea began to permeate. 《Ah, shit. Better a move on,》 I figured as I turned to walk away. My attempts to walk away, however, were interrupted by the very noticeable sound of glass shattering and scattering across a floor. That was so loud that I could've sworn it was outside and nearby, but I looked around and found it wasn't.

With little other options, I moved towards the window to try to look inside, but I couldn't really see much. It was just a living room, with a white couch, a TV with some sort of rave being played, and a strobe light burning my retinas. Any further details would have to wait, as I was forced back, blinking as my eyes readjusted from looking at a sputtering sun to regular daylight.

"WHAT THE FU-" came a voice from inside, swiftly cut off by a deafening boom. Moments prior, as my eyes managed to deal with the light, I could see how the windows began to glow pink, overpowering the strobe lights.

Every part of my body primed itself to run, but before I could, I was knocked off my feet. A shockwave of raw energy swept me to the ground, my brain feeling like it was sizzling. Vinyl, wood splinters, gypsum dust, and glass were sent flying everywhere, with chunks of warm vinyl smashing into me, knocking me further away. An electric pain shot up my arm as I tried to roll onto my back, desperately trying to get my bearings.

The house was a wreck. The front was obliterated. The wall I was standing in front of was, for all intents and purposes, simply gone. Small splotches of red painted some of the debris around me, and one of the still-standing support beams. The only thing that remained of the front wall I used to stand in front of was a couple of bent load bearing beams struggling to hold up the roof, the stubs where support beams used to be, and a surprisingly sturdy looking outlet. The adjacent walls flared outward the closer they got to the front wall, cracks running across all of the drywall.

There was something else in what remained of the living room, floating ominiously, but my eyes darted to further in, attempting to avoid the elephant in the room. The interior did not fare much better from the explosion. Almost everything was unrecognizable. Further in, there seemed to be a dining room that was surprisingly intact, though everything was still broken into pieces. I just barely recognized what remained of a few chairs, a wine rack, and a table.

With little left to do, my eyes slowly raised to the object above me. The culprit of the disaster, made of mud and clay, dared to make its presence known. It was turned around, the dual "icons" facing towards the dining room-a fact that was slowly changing as it begun to spun around and tilt towards me.

Without a single thought more, I drew my gun with my left hand, the safety clicking off as I jammed my thumb down with a practiced motion, the ribbing of my slide being my strange guide. I struggled to ignore the aching pains of my left arm as I aimed at the Claydol, but I hestiated firing at it. 《Oh, shit. Where do you shoot a Claydol? There's no vital organs, they're totally inorganic! Uhh, uhhh...》 The Claydol kept turning around, and my attention was drawn to the eyes that kept "blinking." The second of the two "icons" on the front finally appeared as it kept slowly turning.

《What's the biggest target... The eyes... THE EYES! It's so obvious!》

I missed the multi-color glow of the arms as I honed in on the eyes. Once I was trained on the eyes, a particuarly bright color drew my attention away for a second, an unsettling feeling building in my chest. 《Oh fuck, it's about to attack!》 The eyes were forgotten as a target as my gun haphazardly snapped to the protruding nubs that one could only describe as arms.

I repeatedly squeezed and released the trigger as quickly as possible, desperately trying to stop them from attacking me. I even kicked my legs, trying to scoot away. It was ineffective, and only made my aim worse.

The gunshots rung out, echoing in the forest, the sounds of wood splintering accompanying them. The gun clicked, the trigger no longer giving me resistance, but that did NOT stop me from pulling the trigger a few dozen more times before I finally caught on.

≪Wait a minute, forest?≫

I blinked twice, but it didn't help. My eyes struggled to adjust to the dimmer ambient light of wherever I found myself. Dense, moss covered trees surrounded me, a species I did not recognize. The hard ground didn't really feel any different initially, but I could feel the grains of dirt embedding deep into the fabric of my shirt as I shifted around, and less so my pants.

I slowly pulled myself onto my feet, trying to figure out what the hell just happened. It was so abrupt, and I didn't even register anything coming at me before I ended up here. I went to pull my phone out of my pocket, only to feel nothing but the leather of my wallet in the pocket. I checked my left pocket, only feeling the spare ammunition I had shoved in there to reload my pistol. There was absolutely zero chance I crammed anything into my back pockets too.

《Ah. . . Fuck. Stuck in some weird ass woods suddenly, without my phone, sandals and an empty magazine? If I were to ever experience "post-fey clarity," I think it would be exactly like this. At least I had my clothes still... For now.》

I looked up to the sky, trying to figure out the location of the sun, but I couldn't find it with all of the leaves around. Thankfully, the moss would give me a rough direction of which way north was, so I wasn't totally in the dark.

While I stared upwards, I noted the faint, freshly made holes in the tree, and counted them. There were at least five, perhaps six. That meant that I had managed to fire off at least three before ending up here. I figured I probably hadn't hit them with the first bullet because I was mid-swing, but I hoped that I had managed to hit that mud-brick bastard with the other two.

I finally looked down, thinking about my situation. I considered STOP, remembering the hiking trips I used to do, back when my kidneys didn't scream at me for standing for longer than 20 minutes. I didn't remember much about the acronym, rather pathetic for a life scout, but I knew the first two. Stop, and take a breath. Good advice, I could potentially wait out for rescue, or so I initially thought. Another look around made me realize that absolutely no one would looking for me here. I couldn't even recall there being forests near Roswell, so I was certain I was pretty far from wherever I was supposed to be.

A new plan was most certainly needed. I needed water, and I needed to find shelter. Preferably, I could get both by just finding civilization, but I recognized my odds of finding civilization were slim. That really meant that I'd be travelling in one direction for water and hoping that my clothes would be enough for warmth. I wasn't happy with that, but what else was I going to do? Thankfully, I already knew intuitively where to go. Water would flow downhill, so the best chance to look for water in lieu of any real geographical knowledge is to just go downhill when possible.

Before I could go anywhere though, I needed to address my means of defense. So far, it had proven ineffective, but that was in the middle of a town. Here, gunshots were likely to scare off most predators, and hopefully put an end to any herbivores that decide to try to defend against me. This 380 peashooter was most certainly not going to stop a boar though. "I wonder if I could climb a tree with adrenaline," I muttered to myself.

I extracted the magazine from the gun, and fished out 3 bullets from my left pocket to begin loading. Once I ran out, I'd repeat the process. Each time, my thumb bit into the top portion of the magazine, and it stung just a tiny bit more. I slid the magazine in once the gun was loaded, and slid the slide back, chambering a round. The thought crossed my mind that I should've checked for a jam first before reloading just a bit too late in the process, but thankfully the gun wasn't jammed. All's well that ends well, right?

With my gun reloaded, I got up and searched for a couple of good sized rocks. I didn't have a knife on me or anything, and without a map, I was as good as lost, so I'd need an implement to mark the trees so I'd know when I had circled back in on myself. As I nearly single-mindedly searched, I found there wasn't really any direction I could see where the terrain was going noticeably down or up. That would eventually force me to pick a random direction to go, as soon as I found my rocks. Eventually, I found my rocks.

A big ole stone, and another big ole stone that was loose. I sat down by the two stones and got to work, using the rock embedded in the ground to split apart the stone that wasn't stuck. I spent a good few minutes, chipping away at the rock. I needed a point at minimum to make a mark in the trees, but I was hoping to achieve a slashing edge that could make a much bigger mark in the bark. I'd use the fragments of the rock breaking apart as tools to break off an edge, trying to make a finer point and a clean edge.

As I worked, I let myself be taken in by the forest. It was familiar in many ways, from the trees to the atmosphere, and to that I was grateful. What put me on edge were the sounds. The forests I camped with were never loud during the daytime, outside of some bird calls. This forest was not just filled with sound, it was buzzing with very unfamiliar sounds. Bird calls that sounded less than natural, howling in the distance, a strange barking noise... there was even a distant gurgling noise. I shuddered to imagine what the hell was making a noise like that so loudly.

Despite all of the noise, the forest was still as empty as ever. At most, I saw a large shadow pass over head, of some kind of very large bird, but even that didn't linger. I wondered what kind of a bird was that large... Maybe it was a Pokemon. That would be interesting. I had read some rumors that it wasn't just humans getting affected, but as far as I had found, no hunter nor ranger was willing to come out and admit that they had encountered what they believed to be that yet. 《I hope that no animals were transformed in this forest.》

Then again, there were other reports I had read, which made me hope that non-humans were being transformed. It was certainly better than the absolutely horrifying alternative that some people were experiencing a complete and total mental death, with no traces of their past selves. What's even the point of living if there's nothing that made you YOU left to live?

I began to think about the Claydol as I kept marching along. They just attacked blindly, screaming and not using any words. Their actions were very disconcerting, and implied that there wasn't a higher thought involved. Were they an animal? I definitely hoped so, but I didn't see a human inside, and I can't imagine you just always have multi-colored strobing lights set up at all times. Were they a human attempting not to sleep? I could uncomfortably relate to that.

The more I thought about the Claydol being once human, the more unsettled I felt about it. That could've been a man, with children, and grand parents to take care of. Maybe he just got his new house and he was excited to finally share it. Perhaps the lights were leftover from a party that everyone had already left. He could've been going to work the following day, ready to cheer up everyone in the office, or be the hero loader of the convenience store.

I thanked the lord I did not worship that I didn't have to think about that line of logic any longer. Checking in on my own absent-minded work, I discovered that I had made a pretty decent slashing edge. Part of me told me that it wasn't going to last for more than 30 trees, and that was generous, but the point was thicker, and somewhat duller. It absolutely would stand up to the abuse I wanted to put it through.

With my newly acquired makeshift tree marking tool, I set out in the direction I picked. Every 16 trees I passed, I made a mark. I eventually found myself having to go uphill, so I decided to pick another direction adjacent to where I was going. As I walked along my path, I eventually came across a tree with a neon pink stripe on it. I wondered how long I had been walking before discovering this excellent landmark, and came to the conclusion that it had to have been at least an hour, because my kidneys were beginning to ache from standing for too long.

"If I were a betting man," I mumbled to myself, "I'd bet that's someone who spray-painted a tree, which means I'm probably not far from civilization." The logic sounded fine to myself.

Unfortunately, my confidence waivered as a new thought popped into my head. I'd only ever seen green paint on Smeargle, but if I recalled their Pokedex entry correctly, it could be any number of colors. Granted, I wasn't sure how the fuck a Smeargle was going to get hot pink as a color in a continent that's notorious for red insects and nothing else, but it did mean that this could just be a territory marker by something that wasn't human.

With a great pause, "or maybe a ditto. The shiny was kind of a pink, right?"

Well now I had to check. Examining it more closely showed no eyes, and though it appeared to be a thick substance, it didn't look like slime. Unfortunately, it looking so thick also pretty much ruled out it being spray paint. You'd need to layer tons of spray point for that. So, Smeargle was probably the actual answer. Disappointing.

With my curiosity sated, and knowing I'm probably no closer to civilization than when I first began, I began the march once more. I did eventually find something that resembled downhill, which soured my mood immensely. "I have been walking parallel to downhill this ENTIRE TIME," was my exasperated conclusion. I could've saved so much time by turning like 3 degrees to the right, and perhaps even saved my aching legs some trouble. Thankfully, downhill did seem to give my muscles a chance to rest, which was funny since I knew that going downhill was generally more intense on my legs.

As I descended down the decline, I began to hum. I had a direction, I really only had to keep track of the trees I was marking and... yeah, that was it. There wasn't much else for my brain to do, other than to try to fill the loneliness. The tune itself was just kind of aimless, and completely dissonant. Eventually though, it slipped into a pattern, and soon I wasn't just humming. Dion's The Wander joined the chorus of the forest. My movement slowed to a single step cadence, every foot landing with a bounce.

It didn't just stop at The Wanderer though. The scenes of the forest faded away to a post-apocalyptic land full of desiccated husks reaching for the sky with Uranium Fever, a cowboy outfit replacing mine with Ain't That a Kick In The Head, and a revolver joining my right hand with Big Iron... I was my own little adventurer in this desolate wasteland, my gloved hand spinning the hunk of pristine metal. Though my speed through this land was going to be slow, everything was going to be okay, so long as I could just keep trudging forward. I completely lost track of time, not even sure how long it was between songs. I was certain I had been repeating certain verses that I liked or couldn't remember properly, which further distorted how long things took. Eventually, Ain't That a Kick In The Head faded away to I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire, my speed matching the slow pace of the jazz song.

Even that song would fade away, as I poorly transitioned into Atom Bomb Baby, a pep in my step. A quiet part of me found quite a lot of hilarity in a blues song being so upbeat, a smile crawling across my face as my pains simply melted away. "I could travel for a million miles like this," I thought to myself, enjoying the pace I was able to keep up because of the song.

"When she kisses, there's no hiss," I sang, "zero r-she turns on the switch." Those lyrics didn't really make sense of me, but I had always figured that it was just some slang I just didn't get because I was too young for the heyday of the song.

I grabbed onto a tree, using my left hand to essentially use it as a pole. Was it practical? Not really, but I still wanted to swing around a pole, and it's not like there was any stop signs around. I began to swing around, singing "a million times hotter than TNT" as I did so.

"OH! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!"

My imagination came to a crashing halt when I nearly collided with a black bear cub. The cub was as surprised to see me as I was to see it, it bounding out of the way with a strange sound that I could only describe as a cross between a bark and a cry.

My heart battled against my ribcage to escape my chest as I leaned back on the tree I had used as a pole mere moments ago. I looked at my handgun in my right hand, groaning as I slid the slide back slightly. There was a round in the chamber, slightly soothing my pounding heart.

"That was absurdly silly," I mumbled as I very deliberately hostlered the pistol, making a thumb sweep to ensure that the safety was off. "I could've accidentally-could've shot myself if the safety was-uhm... y'know, off..."

I wanted to lean against the tree, but the bear cub lingered in the area. I decided to take my leave from the area, not wanting to get on momma's bad side. When I realized the birds had gone quiet, my pace quickened-but not enough. I heard hoof clopping, and a ferocious roar. ≪Shit,≫ my mind repeated like a broken record that was progressively speeding up, as I broke out in sprint. I did not even bother to look back, knowing full well that would slow me down.

I tried to weave through the treelines, but I kept finding my feet catching on the rocky terrain. The thing kept chasing me, elliciting a verbal "oh fuck" as I attempted to get away. I could hear the somewhat distant sound of cracking, though I wasn't sure what that was. Maybe they were stepping on a bunch of sticks? 《Okay, count my blessings, it's struggling to get closer at least! Maybe a little longer an-》

My thoughts were terminated by a strange sound that could be best described as a synth with no bass trying to replicate the sound of flowing water, followed by a very loud bang and dirt being kicked up. I inadvertently squealed as I was pelted by some pebbles. Once I had a moment to really recover, I assessed the situation. 《Okay, pretty sure it's not a moose! What kind of Pokemon have hooves-uhh... Zebstrika? I feel like most equines wouldn't be having a problem with chasing me right now!》

I only made it a few dozen more paces before I felt something shove against my inner ear and stomach. The distinct sensation of vertigo overtook me, sending my entire body to the ground as I lost my footing. My face met the ground, causing a vibrating pain to radiate through my nose. I really wanted to puke right there and then, but I heard those hooves striking ever closer, prompting me to swallow my tight esophagus and try for my feet.

My legs ached with the gallons of lactic acid my muscles chose to produce, my kidneys were starting to feel like they were shanked, my lungs cried in icy agony, and my feet... weirdly warm, but not in pain. That little reprieve seemed to be enough to get up and running again. My legs didn't want to move as fast as they were running a second ago, forcing a new strategy. 《I really hope they can't smell my fear, because the only way out of this is to hide!》

In line with this vague plan, I narrowly dodged a multi-color beam flying off to my left. The beam would hit a tree, which rested for two seconds, before detonating with what could be best described as an intense desire to no longer exist. It sent wooden shards everywhere and what was left unexploded crashed to the ground. ≪Shit, shit! Better off not getting hit by that!≫

I weaved through the forest, attempting to take an indirect path. I was desperately searching for some way to hide. Any time I fell out of its view, the occasional ranged attack and resulting explosion wouldn't happen, so I just needed to to find concealment. My opportunity came from a large boulder that I nearly barreled into. I raced past it the first time, and began making a wide and messy circle back to it. I bolted around behind it, collapsing and holding my breath. The hooves approached, but then the clopping slowed. Whatever it was stopped a fair distance away from the boulder.

《I just have to keep my breath quiet for as long as possible, until it goes away! Simple...》 Despite that, I kept holding onto my breath, for a bit longer. I heard growls as the entity moved about, trying to ascertain where I was. The clops initially were quieter, and then got louder as soon as I let my breath loose. Despite that, they didn't seem to know where I was, so allowed myself the privilege of breathing.

≪Ah shit, Valentine... really dug it now...≫ I pulled my pistol out of its holster, checking the ammo. 7 bullets in the magazine, 1 in the chamber. Every move I made threatened to throw me off balance. ≪God damn it,≫ I complained to myself, as I clumsily loaded an 8th bullet into the magazine.

Once it was loaded, I gripped the gun firmly in my left hand, before slowly turning around, bracing myself on the rock. The beast continued to linger in the area, for some unknown reason. Getting information on what exactly it was seemed logical, but I struggled to figure out how to do so. I tried to determine exactly what it was based on the information at hand.

《I haven't seen it at all since I started running. It's got hooves, and some sort of beam attack. It also seemed to be able to impose some sort of weak ranged attack that applied a force on me, which was enough to throw me to the ground and give me my dizziness-I think. Shit, that implies maybe a psychic type? Shit... does it sense my mind? Is that why it's lingering? Crap, the only psychic type hooved Pokemon coming to mind is Girafarig. Euugh... but maybe it's one of the new ones? I need to see it.》

The reality of trying to look at the beast dawned on me however. I'd have to raise out of my concealment to try to get a look, and if I was right the first time, that second head could immediately spot me. I spent what felt like an eternity trying to figure out what to do, but with the Pokemon lingering, I figured I needed to at least see what was making it stick around. I slowly rose up, keeping myself close to the boulder, all the while my legs aching and threatening to give out on me. Thankfully, I was wrong on it being a Girafarig, but what I saw instead puzzled me.

The Pokemon in sight was... absolutely nothing I recognized. I took in the entire sight as it looked away, investigating the trees and sniffing the leaves. It kind of looked like a Girafarig, if you were blind and ignored the height. Its main body was this orange color, while the neck was brown. Where the head was, it seemed to be wearing a helmet like thing, with the bulbous shape that looked vaguely familiar? I sat there, taking in the sight, utterly confused.

《Yeah, that thing is definitely a new Pokemon. The torso's the easiest target, so I oughta aim there if I'm going to get a hit off...》

The Pokemon's head slowly turned towards the rock as I thought about my situation a bit. I snapped out just in time to see the vaguely yellow eye of the helmet's face become visible. I stumbled back, landing on my ass with a thud that sounded significantly louder than it should've been. ≪Oh shit! If they saw or heard me me, I'm fucking to-≫

The boulder that was once my concealment proved not to cover. In an instant, the rock detonated in a brilliant display of brown and purple. Rocks shredded my clothes as they dug into my skin, painting my body with cuts and bruises. Pain shot across my nerves at lightning speed, my lungs sucking in air out of reaction. My glasses were nowhere to be found and I could no longer feel my gun-though I couldn't feel much of anything other than pain. I watched in terror as the Pokemon charged.

I narrowly rolled out of the way of it's attempt to bring the hooves down on me, but my entire body screamed in agony. I repeated this a few more times, each time I could feel my roll getting slower. It was only a matter of time until I would get hit, and I was certain I was about to be stamped into the ground right now. On my stomach, I heard it raise up on its hind legs, preparing to slam down again, and then heard it reposition. My ears rung as I struggled to exhale at all, wanting to at least die in comfort...

《What..? Shouldn't it..?》

I couldn't hear it. That was unsurprising, tinnitus is a bitch. I was taken aback by the fact I also didn't feel it. I rolled onto my back, forced to take another breath by the sharp pains. I tried to move my head, but it ached too much, so I just darted my eyes around. The Pokemon that was attempting to kill me was gone. I sat there for a moment, trying to get my body to start breathing in a more normal pattern so I could sit up.

As soon as I could, I did. My muscles demanded I sit down, but I willed it anyways. I needed to. I needed to figure out where the angry Pokemon was. My legs stood up, overcoming my agony. I needed to be ready to get out of here. My mind was empty of thought, solely of action and needs.

I carefully scanned the area, observing the broken trees and stumps. It was a wide swath of trees-as if a lumber mill had cut a clearing in record times. In the distance, I saw a white blur bounce around the orange okapi, darting underneath. I watched brown lines get thrown, and explosions that left large clouds of blackness. I felt pounding in my feet as I watched-though I couldn't be sure if the pounding was my own heartbeat, or the fight I was witnessing.

It was hard to see without my glasses. I needed my glasses. I needed out of here. I was torn. I shuffled forward, my feet having a hard time finding the ground. I made my decision in 8 steps. I wasn't going to get very far if I didn't have my glasses. I stumbled to the ground, looking around for a glint. I craned my head around on the floor, trying to catch that glinting light.

I caught the glint-or at least what I thought was the glint of my glasses. My legs felt like heavy lead and my arms felt barely responsive as I slowly crawled my way over. I grabbed it and rose it to my face, attempting to slip on my pair of glasses, only to be met with cold hard steel. ≪Shit,≫ came the realization, a bit delayed, 《that's my gun.》

I sat on my knees, shoving the gun into my left hand, before getting back on my knees, looking around for my glasses once more. I could feel the pounding get harder as I scuffed my knees, crawling around in the dirt. ≪I didn't want to look. I didn't need to look. I needed my glasses.≫ On went the mantra...

I was interrupted from this cycle within moments, feeling a rush of wind whip across my back and kick grit up my shirt and pants. I rushed to my feet, overcoming the sluggishness for a moment. I got a handful of paces before I spun around, looking wildly at the situation. The Absol was nowhere to be found-but the Pokemon that had chased me was way too close! The sharp teeth of their outer face was less than a couple of inches away from me.

My left arm raised as I quickly shuffled backwards. I didn't really aim, but I did fire. It had little effect-from the lack of noise to the seeming complete absence of the recoil, to the as the outer face suddenly slammed shut after the second shot, the rest seemingly barely scratching their teeth. I watched as they swung their neck back, cutting right through a tree trunk. The tree fell apart as they looked unaffected. A white blur tackled their back legs, causing them to suddenly stumble. I took that opportunity to run.

After getting to a nearby tree, I stopped to watch the angry Pokemon. I leaned against the tree, barely able to hold myself up. I needed just a minute to recover before I could run further. As I observed the fight, a puff of brilliantly shiny pale blue dust suddenly appeared in the Pokemon's face. The rabid beast swayed side to side, stumbling, before crashing to the ground. The very earth trembled as the torso and neck made contact, a small trench-like crater formed by their long neck. The Absol that had put up a brave fight barely moved out of the way in time, narrowly getting nicked by the debris. The black distortion in my peripheral began to slowly fade as the aches and pains caught up, my lungs screeching for warm moisture and my body screaming for oxygen.

I laid my head down on the ground, just resting there for a moment, trying to catch my breath. My heart thumped harshly, and my stomach was trying to climb my esophagus. ≪I don't want to hear it,≫ I thought to myself, repeating it a couple of times before finally managing to compose the thought. ≪I don't want to hear that I want to die ever again... no matter the voice...》

I felt my lips twitch as I thought to myself, and the ringing slowly faded. I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, followed by immediately losing my breath as my diaphragm forced an exhale. I only opened my eyes once I noticed a change in the light level. There was a man standing over me, wearing surgery teal medical scrubs that were seemingly taped up with neon orange reflector tape. The man had a paint spray respirator, and ANSI Z87.1 goggles that I were all too familiar with, both of which obstructed his facial features. I could only really think of one thing: ≪Who's this asshole?≫

He suddenly barked out a somewhat squeaky laugh. "I am Doctor Abet! But you can call me Qianli if you like." He offered his right hand out to me, though my eyes were drawn to some movement in my peripheral, and my mind only dully registering that he heard my own inner thoughts.

I tilted my head, just to try to gather the situation. The Absol had joined the man's left side, holding my glasses. In the man's left hand was some sort of bolt-action rifle, framed in a once beautiful wooden forestock. Unfortunately for the gun, the wood had been mangled, and now the furnishing was only held together by hope and 3 or maybe 4 metal bands. It was really hard to count them, my blurred vision not really offering me a lot of detail to go off of.

"I don't know... I don't think I'd like to..." There was no way in hell I could tell if I said that aloud or was just thinking that internally. I groaned, shifting ever so slightly. My muscles barely responded to my attempts to get more comfortable, hardly moving even when I tried to put effort into it. Every fiber in my body was telling me that there was no way in hell I was ever moving again, and to get comfortable with my new life as a rock.

"Well, keeping you here is not a good idea. The world's possibilities are endless-and that includes danger too!" I winced as his words grated my ears. His voice was just as squeaky as his laughter, and the longer he talked, the more obvious it became. His invitation became a mandatory obligation as he bent down and grabbed my shoulder. He entered a squat to pick me up, though he paused just long enough to place my glasses on my face. It sat crooked, and I saw double on the edges, but they were at least on my face fairly firmly.

"No," I meekly protested as he lifted my body by one shoulder. He grunted as he stood all of the way up. He was not tall enough to lift my feet off the ground-infact, he was a fair bit shorter than me. My rough estimate had to be something like 5'10". No way in hell he was going to be able to assist some 6' immobile ragdoll like this...

"Eugh," he grunted again. "Alright, look, I'm going to bring you back to somewhere where it's safe, but you've gotta work with me, okay?"

"Leave.. me... on.. the ground..."

"No can do. That Farifarig isn't staying asleep for long, and it will be angry to see you again." He began to drag me along. "Come on, let's go. One foot after another, okay?"

He wasn't really giving me a choice, so I reluctantly complied. Besides, I could recognize his rationale. There were no apparent holes with it-other than taking me to somewhere I had never even been before, and that my feet weren't cooperating. Really, he was kind of dragging me along in an impressive feat of determination and a masterclass lesson of completely and utterly ignoring applied torque. I could hear three sets of footsteps as we trudged along the forest.

He kept mumbling to himself, "left, right," over and over, as a little mantra. At first, I found it annoying, but as I recovered over time, I eventually began to follow along in the mantra. Right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot... ri... le... r... l... l-shit, right foot! It helped a fair bit to keep me on my feet, or so it felt like. I probably wasn't contributing much, just vaguely flailing at best, but I knew that anything was better was doing nothing.

Once I felt like I had the rhythm down, I used what little strength I had in the rest of my body to look around. One of the things I noted was that the Absol was following along, with a strange walking pattern. It seemed to walk by first outstretching one leg in the front, hopping both feet up front, and then pushing the other foot forward. It seemed... oddly inefficient and completely unnatural. I couldn't even think of why they'd walk in that way, but at least it explained the strange pattern of hearing 3 sets of footsteps earlier.

"Wow," came the abrupt end of the mantra I had managed to get used to. "What a remarkable populus tremuloides..."

I glanced over, following what I could tell for his sightline to see a tall tree of smooth, birch-like white bark. I looked up, seeing the yellow leaves of it, and the surrounding trees, blotting out the sky, in tightly packed clusters. I couldn't really tell what made that specific tree he was looking at particularly special, so I murmured "I guess."

There was a lengthy period of silence, owed to Quilani... Quillan? "Uhm... what was his name again? Shit, uh..." I couldn't recall his name for the life of me. I silently realized that being able to recall Matsui's name was-or at least should've been-a big surprise. I was too stubborn to admit I had forgotten his name though, so I settled on just calling him Mr. Scientist internally for now.

Anyways, Mr. Scientist did not continue his mantra, and the forest was left oddly silent, save for the footsteps and Mr. Scientist's breathing. Perhaps the sounds were just getting drowned out by his respirator hissing. Mr. Scientist kept glancing over at me, his green eyes examining my face. And to be honest? I hated it. The silence was so unbearably uncomfortable. It was something I wanted to fill with talking, and to get to know the guy who had saved me a bit better. My voice clearly worked, albeit weakly, so it was just a matter of topics.

"What's your profession? No, that's lame... What are you doing out here? No, that might sound like prying... Where are you from? That definitely sounds like prying! How's your day been? . . . are we serious right now?" Unfortunately, as hard I tried, I couldn't come up with any topics that felt appealing. The silence would continue on as I tried in vain to find something to fill the void with something of value.

The silence would eventually be broken, but not by my own voice. "May I ask your medical history?"

It caught me completely off guard. Of all of the topics to bring up, he wants to know my... medical history? Seriously?

"What for," I cautiously asked him.

"You see, I've extracted some compounds from oran berries that might potentially rejuvenate you, and would be willing to give you them! But-but-I need to know if you've got allergies! Besides, I need to be ready to be able to record potential consequences."

"Uhm... Fine? Well, I've got no allergies outside of pollen, and certain medications have their rare side-effects. I wish I knew which ones but I don't."

He hummed, looking up, and then down, and then finally nodding. "Pollen allergies? Shouldn't be an issue. What kind of medications and their side effects?"

"Uh... Well, the one I like to point to is this specific heart medication they wanted to give to my mom. There was a rare side-effect where getting off the medication could cause a catastrophic heart failure. I have the genetic cocktail required for that."

"Ah, a genetic predisposition to fatalities! How unfortunate..."

"Uhh-Sure?" I squinted at him. ≪Not the way I would've put it, personally... but I guess "my body is primed to kill itself" is pretty close.≫

"Thankfully, the oran berries seem to have no such genetic interactions that I'm aware of!"

Well, that's TOTALLY comforting. "I'd hope so, they restore health points, and all that."

"Yes-yes-yes," he trailed off with a quiet repeating yes. "We shan't worry about that! I have the medical supplies to help you if that does happen anyways. What about surgeries? Any scars I should be aware of? And-and-"

"Oi! And I'm going to stop you right there! Scars, surgeries, these should NOT matter at all!"

Mr. Scientist sighed, disappointment drawn across his face. "I suppose you're right," he said, with a dejected tone.

With the ice broken, I could finally find myself actually asking some things. I didn't have many good ideas, but I figured I could sate my curiosity a bit. Though I wanted to, it felt weird asking about his speech patterns, and thus I opted for something a bit more "palatable," at least for the moment. "So... Uh, what are you doin' in this forest?"

His eyes lit up as he stared forward, sparkling with joy. "Ahh, making use of my biology major and biochemistry minor!" He said it quickly and moved on, but my mind hesitated. "The world is changing, and these untouched-untouched Utahn forests are a fantastic microcosm to study! A world of undiscovered and limitless-LIMITLESS!-possibilities awaits me in the..."

He'd continue to prattle on for a half a minute, but his initial sentence bugged me too much for me to actually focus on what he was saying. It was like an eldritch thought, consuming all space until there was nothing left-and then spilling into the other thoughts.

Nothing else mattered to me until I asked the question.

"You picked two overlapping biology degrees?" He seemed so excited about what he was doing out here, that the moment I was relieved of my burden, I felt rather bad that I couldn't focus on anything else he said.

He turned to look at me again, nodding his head. "Uh-uh, yeah! Why wouldn't I?"

There was an uncomfortable pause as he awaited for my delayed reaction. "Okay then... that's-... that's a little unusual. Cool. Uhm... Sorry for interrupting."

"No-no! It's okay! I understand, my classroom proclivities always drew other's curiosities!"

"Uh, alright..." That's a pretty damn weird thing to say. "So, you've been... 'researching' things out here?"

"Yes! The flora, the fauna, the Munna! Everything living that's changed! It's not just humans and animals that have been changing you know."

The animals were already a bit of a surprise, though logically it made sense, but not just them? He did mention oran berries earlier in the conversation, so it made sense that the plants around here were changing, but I still found it hard to wrap my head around it. "You said flora, right?" I let that question set for a moment, as he enthusiastically nodded. "The trees are changing?"

"Oh yes, the trees and bushes! Even the grass! I think even the rocks are changing, though I'm no geologist. I saw-saw a white crystal above ground that didn't seem to make sense to me, but that could've been something natural. Quartz-maybe. I don't know. Rocks aren't my thing!"

"A white crystal?" Yeah, that definitely sounded like quartz without any other information on it. He hummed and nodded, affirming that it was a white crystal, without really giving me any else to work with. I let out an extended lip trill, my vocal chords joining the fray as I tried to think of what to ask him next. Clearly, asking him about his work was making him happy. Perhaps... "Hey, what is the most interesting thing you've found out here so far?"

"Oh-oh, there's so many choices! The oran berry tree was perhaps the most exciting discovery, for its potential medical applications! I found a Paras and a Parasect, giving me a chance to observe their parasitism! Ah-how could I forget the Primarina!? The vocal folds on the Primarina are so bizarre, it's beautiful in a pointlessly over-evolved way!"

I immediately began to imagine him using his rifle to shoot the songstress of the sea, and cutting them open to examine it. The smell of gunpowder and copper, the sights of a mangled head, even the sounds of the flesh parting with a meaty tear flooded my head immediately. My heart pumped uncertainly as I uncomfortably shifted my weight off of his shoulder, trying to get my weight back on my feet. My feet wouldn't cooperate however.

However, the longer I thought about it, the more I realized the logistical challenge. My pistol did nothing but piss that Pokemon off. Sure, he had a bigger rifle, but I still couldn't see the rifle actually being able to take down a Primarina. It certainly didn't look like it'd survive being fired, with it being in visible pieces and held together by a trucker's hopes and dreams.

"How did you... study it? Act-actually, tell me how you got the Primarina first, please..."

"Ah, well I found it in a pond not far from here! I just baited-baited it, and then shot it!"

I winced, something he seemed to pick up on. "Not like that! Not like that at all! I shot it with one of my sleep powder-filled paintballs!"

"O-oh," I murmured, letting out a shaky sigh of relief. The thoughts didn't truly leave, but it was, for lack of a better word, "nicer" to know that he didn't kill a potential human just to sate his own curiosity.

"After that, it was as simple as giving their neck an ultrasound," he said, as if it was a completely normal task. I didn't even know you could see those things on ultrasound, I thought that was just for babies. "It's quite fascinating-fascinating! A set of true vocal folds and a pair of syrinxes that rely on the larynx's altered position by those vocal folds!"

"I don't know what... uh... what a syrinx is."

"Oh, a syrinx is simple-simple as can be! It's simply a set of paired organs near the base of the wind pipe! Though here, the wind pipe is divided into three to fit them. You most often see the syrinx on song birds, which lets them make-make their pretty little songs!"

"It's... like a bird?"

"Mhm! So not only can it use a more traditional mammalian vocal mechanism, the bird-like vocal mechanisms lets them harmonize-harmonize with 4 unique tones!"

"That does sound pretty impressive," I had to admit. 4 unique tones "harmonized," huh? A low thrum joined our conversation as we kept walking. It had actually been there earlier, but it had been too quiet for me to really take note of it. Now that it was getting louder though, it was far more noticeable.

"Hey, what's that-"

He cut me off before I could ask about the sound. "It's quite remarkable, and an impossibly fragile system. I worried that the ultrasound had caused damage to it, but after I released it, it seemed fine! I am curious if their new bodies came with the knowledge required on how to properly maintain such an overly complicated system in the wild. Results are pending-pending!"

I cleared my throat. "That's interesting and all, but what's tha-"

We cleared a tree, and I got my answer before I could ask. The noise was coming from one of two big ass industrial generators, shielded underneath a scrap metal pavilion at the far side of a 7 acre narrow perimeter surrounded by barbed wire. To its immediate left was an RV that sat directly hooked into the double generators. There were also a couple of ready-made sheds that were scattered about, all of them facing a large tree in the center.

The tree itself had a lot of significance within. On top of being roughly center of the entire area, and the sheds, it took had its own set of

Initially, the tree didn't seem like anything to write home about, aside from how stubby it was compared to the neighboring trees, thick trunk, and wicked branch layout, but then I noticed what was growing on the evergreen.

It was a black bulbous fruit, with a strange brown top to it, not unlike an acorn. I recognized that it wasn't of this world, but it took me a good minute to remember what that reminded me of. There was no doubt in my mind of what that actually was.

"Is that an apricorn tree?"

"Yes sir-yes sir! It is," Mr. Scientist grinned at me, his voice chipper.

"Jee-zus," I muttered.

"I was just as surprised to find as you are. I'm determined to make use of it though. The oils I've extracted already have been fascinating! So much to test, and so much to try!"

"Well, I uh-what hav-" I was cut off by a shushing.

"Later, my friend! First, you need to hold yourself up."

I tried to comply, though I was incredibly wobbly on my feet. I almost fell backwards, and only felt something kind of soft pushing on my back, making sure I didn't. I looked over, seeing a mildly amused Absol-or perhaps it was smug. It was a big difficult to tell.

Mr. Scientist approached the barbed wire. There was a mechanism hanging over the top of the fence which he was interessted in. He grabbed ahold of it, and yanked it upwards, before the bar pivoted and he pulled it towards himself. This rotated and then dropped a pedal through the gaps of the fence fence, which he kicked as hard as he could. The first kick did nothing, but the second kick seemed to finish the elaborate handshake, as a safety lever fell to the ground on the other side of the fence. The generators quieted down as the lever thudded against the ground.

After all of that, he moved 3 feet to the left and opened a gate. ≪Those steps seem... completely and utterly unnecessary,≫ I thought to myself as I watched him open the gate. He could've just had a pull rod or something. 《Surely, whatever he was accomplishing could've been done by a pole sticking over the top that he could've just pulled instead.》

He turned to me, and asked "can you walk by yourself?"

"Uh... I don't know?" I tried to shift my weight off the Absol, struggling to standing up straight. Despite the odds being stacked against me, I found my footing. I took a couple of experimental steps, barely keeping myself upright-but being succcessful. "Yeah," I muttered under my breath, "I can work with this."

"Wonderful! I know I wasn't sweating, but I'd be lying-lying if I said it was easy to carry you!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know my fucking fat ass can stand to lose some pounds." I stared directly at him, frowning.

There was an uncomfortable pause before he gained the courage to respond. He had a somber and level voice, though it retained that damn squeaky quality. "That felt awfully unprovoked."

I could already tell his internal thoughts from here and I winced.

《He sees me as defective too. Fuckin' hell, can't ever act na-》

That thought was gone nearly as quickly as it had arrived. There would be no place for such foul thoughts, not right now. I'd had a streak of six good days so far, and I was bound and determined to have my seventh if it killed me. "Uh, yeah. I'm fine. Sorry."

I tried to march in with confidence, but it was more of a shambling corpse kind of deal. I was staying upright, but it was taking nearly everything in me to do so. As soon as I was past the gate, he piped up. "Would you like me to help you to the shed?"

"No!" I shouted. The voice elevation came out of nowhere. I scowled as I took a moment to readjust myself internally. "No, sorry. I'm fine walking, just show me where you want to go-and make sure there's a chair inside."

Mr. Scientist frowned before turning away. It was clear that he wanted to help, but he respected my declination, which was nice. I know that I wouldn't have in his shoes, and there was no amount of words to describe how much I did not want to deal with someone as pushy as me. Besides, he was already going to help me with the promised juice anyhow, so I didn't feel too bad about turning his clearly available help down for the moment.

Mr. Scientist approached the mechanism, now on the other side of the fence, and began to reset it. It was a complicated process that again made me question why he even had the whole setup. The semifinal step was to close the gate, followed by slamming the safety lever back into position, the generator roaring to life again. Clearly, whatever it was doing, the generator was experiencing some drag from, which just made it even more curious to me.

Wordlessly, he then turned a full 180 and traipsed his way to the outermost shed, The Walking Dead that I was cosplaying lagging behind him, and the Absol walking to my immediate left. I kept glancing at the damn thing. 《I'm willing to bed that you're pretty soft,》 I thought to myself, ≪but seriously, what the fuck's with your gait?≫

They looked over to me, but didn't respond, as I kind of expected. That was just a question I asked myself, after all. I must've been staring at them too intensely though, so I averted my eyes and tried to find something else to focus on.

The tree stood out immensely compared to anything else. It was the most stereotypical looking tree I'd ever seen, and didn't look very much like the game counterpart. The branches and leaves made this abnormal, almost perfectly blocky-spherical shape. It was remarkably shorter than the nearby trees, with no trees directly around it.

There were no trees around the apricorn tree directly, however I could see the stumps of the trees that used to be around it. The incredible biology master must've cleared out the trees to try to give the apricorn tree more room to grow, which made sense. The other trees would've choked out the sunlight and killed the apricorn tree.

Eventually, I made it to the shed. I had to lean against the exterior wall next to the door for a moment, entering only after the Absol. The interior of the place was... interesting. It was a cramped 10x10, walls absolutely coated in shelves of various vials mixed in with cans of soups, and the light provided primarily by a transparent roof. Some of the glass and plastic cylinders were dimly glowing, which was... disconcerting. On the only "clear" wall, there were cabinets, a microwave, and a wood-fired stove.

In the center of the room, there was a table with two wooden folding chairs, clearly bought from Ikea. I didn't know the name of the chair, but it had a minimal back with a wooden hole in it. I recognized it because they were the exact style of chairs I had at home-a home I felt myself quietly yearning for now.

"Please, sit-sit! You need rest," he spoke, as if I needed invitation to sit down in a god damn chair.

I sat down at the table as he grabbed an unlabeled tin can off the top shelf and began to prepare something. Hopefully, it was the oran berry juice. He hummed as he did so, but did not talk. The Absol laid at my feet, the fur brushing up against my toes. It was an odd sensation, but not one I was necessarily against. 《I wonder what I could even describe this texture as... Maybe greasy?≫

As I quietly pondered my limited vocabulary of adjectives to describe the texture, my thoughts came back to home. I couldn't even really call it home. I left before I had truly gotten settled into the new barn-dominium my parents had built. In a sick and cruel way, I missed my home in California more, thanks to all of the memories. Not all of those memories were pleasant though. I fought back reliving my high school years, still hellbent on trying to have my seventh good day.

To replace the fatal failure of the education system, I thought about my family. Pangs of regret stabbed through my heart as I reminisced about the weekly dinners we had with the whole extended family. They still held them, but I just never showed up anymore, unable to bear it. I'm sure they'd welcome me with open arms, but I just couldn't handle being there anymore. How could I face them?

The vaguely citrus scent that began to waft through the air reminded me of the candies my grandmother would sometimes give me. I wished I could see her face again, and give her a hug, but it was too late for that now. 《Even if she was still around, how could I face her like this,》 I asked myself, inner voice sullen.

≪Hey, whatever happened to that seventh good day?≫

"Hmm?" Whats-his-face looked over at me, eyebrow raised.

I shook my head, internally recoiling at the fact that I drew attention to myself. "Sorry, nothing. Just talking to myself, is all..."

Reminiscing on the past wasn't going to yield a happy ending here, so I decided to stop. Just in time too, since a luke-warm cup was put before me. It had a dark blue color.

"I do apologize," Mr. Scientist said with a weirdly heavy tone of sorrow in his voice. "I condensed all of my oran juice and didn't even think about it until now. I do hope it being warm is okay."

"Er, yeah. I don't mind warm OJ." I snorted, picking up the cup and taking a sip. If I had to describe it in one word, the flavor was "inoffensive." It still had the pulp in it, which I didn't mind, though it kind of caught me off guard to feel something floating in my mouth. I pushed it to my lips and then removed it from my mouth to examine the blue piece of organic debris, something that thankfully the scientist didn't take note of.

I briefly considered eating it, but I decided to just... wipe it off on my pants instead. My pants were blue anyways, and my hands were super dirty from being on the ground three different times. My immune system was ridiculously strong, history had shown how I was the last to get sick if I ever did, but who knew if the bacteria was transforming too. That wasn't really a risk I was willing to take for the moment.

I kept sipping on the OJ, a rather pleasant tingling sensation. It was a really hard to place mixture of flavors, but not as bad as I was expecting. 《I'll give the games one thing, whatever the fuck "smooth" meant here, it isn't terrible.》

I looked to the man, but he was a bit too busy in his own thoughts, pacing back and forth. I didn't really have the energy to interrupt him for conversation, so I just sat in relative silence. At some point, I decided that the cup was taking too long to consume, and so I lifted my throat back, and chugged the rest.

The tingling sensation quickly spread throughout my body as soon as the last drop hit my stomach. As soon as it met my aching muscles, the aches intensified. I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth, my bruises burning and kidneys finding the verb "screech" as a replacement to "scream." I let a noise escape my throat as I struggled against the intense pain.

However, just as quickly as pain would come, it too would go. That was the nature of this world. The assault on my nerves faded into a dull sensation that didn't quite "hurt," but also didn't exactly feel right. It was hard to place the sensation. It felt like my muscles had been shifted, or maybe my nerves had been rearranged with anesthesia still impacting my ability to really feel it.

The pain wasn't totally gone now, but it felt very dull. It didn't hurt as much, that was for sure. I rolled up a pant leg to check on my thighs, a place I knew I was going to bruise, and found that the bruises had seemingly stopped forming. I whistled, impressed by how effective the juice had been.

"That... was a lot like applying a liquid bandage."

Mr. Scientist completely broke out of his pacing. "Liquid bandage-now that's an unusual description," he replied. "I think it's quite accurate."

"I mean, sure, if you ignore the part you're drinking it," I blurted out. "Er-I'm just saying I'm not the best at explaining things."

Mr. Scientist looked at me with a face of grave concern. "It went without saying..." He didn't initially finish the sentence, which left me able to run wild with it.

《Fuck, why did I say that I wasn't good at explaining things? Ironically that's a poor explanation of myself! And now he thinks-≫

"Still, it is like drinking a self-regulating coagulant almost. It's a lot like a liquid bandage!"

We stared for a few moments, before I cleared my throat. "I guess so," was all I could really muster with a shrug.

《So he wasn't thinking that it was an accurate assessment of myself... I really oughta to stop doing this to myself.》

Silence filled the air again. ≪Do either of us actually know how to hold a conversation?≫

"Yes-yes I do!" I widened my eyes, grumbling as he continued. I didn't really catch what he said afterwards, it was something along the lines of "you seemed to be deep in thought yourself."

《Right, well better than silence. Conversational topics would be nice right about now. Let's see, favorite videogames? Favorite pets? Favorite... tree? Okay, maybe let's move away from favorites. How about what drew him to the forest? What about that RV? Maybe he can give me a verbal tour...》 I went down the list, before settling on one that sounded interesting enough.

"So, forgive me if this is prying, but are you intending to make a Pokeball from the apricorns?"

His eyes lit up like two bright N-class stars. "Oh, yes, I absolutely-ABSOLUTELY! Want to make apriballs! I know the black ones are used with heavy balls, and I'm hoping to find other apricorns to make the other apriballs. I'm quite curious though, the tumblestone is the hint we got from one of the new games-Legends Arceus, I think-think-but there's a bit of an issue! I don't know where to get one, and they supposedly look like regular pebbles! I've hired a couple of geologists," and that was where my brain decided to stop listening.

I didn't want to stop listening to him, he sounded so passionate, but I just couldn't keep up. Other thoughts kept eating at my head as he kept talking. Pokeballs would be incredibly handy to have. The idea of me throwing a heavy ball at the Farigiraf. It wouldn't catch them-I hadn't even hurt them yet, but that was kind of the point. These things were cheap. I would have a chance to flee, and whenever they got too close, they could get another heavy ball, on the house.

"You know, an apriball would probably be a more effective defensive tool," I offhandedly remarked, interrupting him.

"Oh! That's-That is not a consideration I even had! Pray tell, how so?"

"Well, a Pokemon has to reorientate themselves in the ball, which buys precious seconds to escape. It's an effective exit strategy!"

"Yes-yes, that would be wonderful! Unfortunately, I don't think that'd work. Pokeballs in the latest games can't do that to strong Pokemon," he retorted.

"Shit, really? I haven't played in years," I said somewhat dejectedly. It did bring up a few questions though. "I wonder then... Which are the rules which are true to real life and which ones aren't..?"

"Uhh... 'which are the rules which are...'" He tried to break down that sentence as best as he could, but I could just correct him faster.

"What's applicable to real life and what's not," I offered 'helpfully.' Unfortunately, without really thinking, I huffed. I immediately became concerned on how he'd process that huff, but he didn't even seem to notice.

"I see, I see..." He tapped his hand. "Well, logic would dictate the latest game rules, or perhaps the anime, but-but it's so early, it's hard to tell. It's even possible that the rules are nothing alike!"

"Yeah, that's," I started, but trailed off, giving it some nonverbal thought. It felt about right to me. "Sounds about right."

"The good news is that we have humans to tell us how these things work! We're not just guessing!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Well, yeah! Most humans that turned still have their faculties, they can tell us a lot about how everything works-works!"

It was so blatantly obvious, I felt insulted by myself that I hadn't come up with something so simple. "Damn, well that's fair. I can't imagine the turnees would find it weird to be asked some questions either. They're just as much wanting to learn and spitball ideas as anyone else."

My car managed to make it into my thoughts while we conversed for a bit about the practicalities of a Pokeball in this world-and the moral quandries that arose from capturing humans.

"Hey, so... lovely conversation we're having," I said, replacing my argument that maybe there should be work done to have some sort of mechanism to "confirm" the feralness of a Pokemon, "but I just realized that my car's kind of in danger."

"Huh? Oh, your car wasn't at home?"

"Yeah, it's in a library's parking."

"I see-see," he said with a hum.

"Can I use your phone to make a call to the police department to make sure they know where I am and what's going on?"

"Of course! I don't want your car-car to be taken away. Do you know the number?"

I thought long and hard, but Mr. Scientist came to the correct conclusion before I did.

"You do not, got it... I can look it up! The internet is a wonderful, very wonderful thing."

"Er, yeah, thanks..."

He pulled out a small laptop, hooking it into an USB-C cable that was hidden under a shelf to the left of where I sat. This laptop took me completely off guard. It was so small it fit in his back pocket. My eyes widened as I looked at this hideously tiny thing. 《That entire keyboard is smaller than my fucking hand! Where the hell did he even get this thing? And what kind of a brand name was fucking KOOFORWAY!?》

As I silently questioned the 6-inch laptop in front of me, he asked me something. I didn't hear it, and the reason why I know he asked me something was how he asked again, in a much firmer voice. "What town was it?"

"Oh, uhm... It was Fort Sumner. I think."

He raised an eyebrow. "You think?"

"If it's not Fort Sumner, I'll know and figure out which little town near Roswell I left my car at, okay?"

"Roswell, Roswell... Oh, you mean New Mexico, not South Carolina!"

"Wha-I-h-ui-I-" It took me a moment for my brain to actually realize what he thought I had said. "I said Sum-NNN-er, not Sum-T-er-what... what the fuck-"

"Sorry-sorry! My bad!" His fingers cautiously and methodically kissed the keys, one at a time, as he looked up Fort Sumner's police department number. The keyboard worked a lot better for him, because he had much smaller hands than my clubs, but he also clearly wasn't well trained for a keyboard like I was.

As he searched up what he was looking for, he began a game of 20 questions. "So, if you were from New Mexico... how did you get here? Did you get picked up and flown out here?"

"Uh... surprise teleportation by a Claydol."

"Claydol can teleport others without teleporting itself?"

I shrugged, offering the all too useless "apparently so."

Mr. Scientist hummed as he reached into his pocket and retrieved yet another device, this one resembling a wireless LAN phone. He was just wearing denim jeans, or so I thought, so I wondered just how big his pockets were. Or... maybe he put the computer and the phone in separate pockets?

"Hey, uh... why do you have a LAN phone in your pocket?"

"LAN phone..? Oh, this!" He raised up the phone, showing off the gleaming black plate. I saw a logo, but didn't see it long enough to actually make out which brand it was. He dialed a few buttons, humming a little 11 note ditty as he did so. "It's a satellite phone!"

The phone began to softly ring once the call button had been pushed. He handed the phone over to me, staying silent as I inspected the phone. The brand was apparently "Iridium." I couldn't help but snort, being reminded of the past. 《Figures, a phone company beat me to my game company.》 I put the phone up to my ear, waiting for the call to go through.

The phone made a clicking sound, before a very tired voice came over the speaker. "De Baca sheriff's office, state the nature of your emergency."

"Ah, hello-! Uhm... I thought I called Fort Sumner."

"Fort Sumner's police department is currently out on recovery after an incident involving an out of control Pokemon," the sheriff stated, firmly and with a hint of bitterness. "If this isn't an emergency, please hang up."

"Err-yeah, it's actually pertaining to my car. You see, I... kind of... maybe got teleported out of state, and I-well, I need to make sure my car isn't towed away."

"'Kind of,' 'maybe,' got teleported out of state," he repeated incredulously.

"Ye... yeah, that's what I said. I kind of got sent to some... forest in Fuckoff, Utah."

"Ashley National Forest," Mr. Scientist interjected.

"Er-Sorry, Ashley National Forest, Utah. Apparently."

There was a very long pause, before I heard what was quite possibly the most defeated sigh physically possible by a human being, all in a crisp eight kilohertz audio. "Jesus, just fucking kill me already," I heard the sheriff mutter over the phone. I suppressed my urge to smile in understanding, even though he wouldn't have seen it.

There was some shuffling over the phone. Perhaps, paper? Or maybe it was him getting closer to a computer. The following quiet and vague noises didn't exactly explain shit to me, though he spoke after the noises stopped. "Alright, can you describe the car and license plate?"

I gave him the information. That included the license plate, the color of the car, the model, the year, and so on. I could hear more noises, but I couldn't tell if they were the faint clicks of a membrane keyboard, or the hushed scribbles of a pencil.

"Is that all?"

"Er, yeah-well, uhm... So, I also lost my phone in that incident, and I was-uhh... Curious if it had been recovered. . . Yeah."

The sheriff rolled his fingers in a rhythmic tapping that could be audibly heard. Well, I figured it was tapping with how fast it was, but given that it was loud enough to be picked up, perhaps it was him slamming the desk with his fist. 《I don't blame you; this is a shit situation and YOU have to deal with it.》

"I'm," he started before pausing. His hesitation did not last long, however, continuing with "not supposed to confirm nor deny finding a phone, but we have not begun to sift through the rubble. The detective's been pretty busy at the moment in other parts of the county. You will have to find out whether or not we recovered a phone when you get back here."

"Aw, fuck man," I said with a slight crack in my voice. "I was really hoping for some good news on that."

"You have my sympathetic 'sorry,'" the sheriff delivered in absolute deadpan and through practically gritted teeth.

"Well-I-uhm... Thank you officer. Er-Sheriff. Have a wonderful day."

"You too sir. Safe travels back to Fort Sumter." With that, the phone clicked.

There was a brief pause before the realization kicked in. In that time, I set down the phone in the center of the table, and Mr. Scientist took it back. ≪Did... Did I hear that right? Why the fuck did a native call it Sumter?≫

"Huh?" Mr. Scientist stared at me blankly.

"Er-uhh-Don't worry about it," I scrambled the words together to say.

"If you say so!"

You know, I had a new appreciation for Mr. Scientist over here. Though he kind of acted in a disconcerting manner, he was much easier to talk to than the sheriff. I wasn't entirely sure why that was the case. Maybe the face helped a lot, but that was just one theory. I didn't talk to people often enough to figure out what worked for me and what didn't.

Or perhaps, it was a false sense of familiarity. The best I could describe him was "autistic," but he acted a lot like me. He had a strong set of passions that he didn't give up on life for, and he was now living his best life isolated, doing what he enjoys. It's not hard to draw parallels from that.

My brain made the false and random connection between parallels and the national forest we were in. More specifically, the fact we were in a national forest, and Mr. Scientist cut some trees down. This happened occasionally, and usually I'd get annoyed by the complete lack of connection between the ideas as my brain tried desperately to find some sort of connection, but this time I was instead more astonished by the realization of what he did. I broke out in a wheezy, bewildered laughter as his actions set in. "You-... You cut down trees in a national forest? What the fuck!?"

"Hey-hey! I got a permit!"

"You fucking cut trees down in a national forest man! I don't think a 'permit' covers that!"

"Of course it does!"

《You know what, I shouldn't push him.》 "Alright, I believe you! Just... Jesus! What a fucking thing to do."

"You don't believe me," he protested. "At all-at all!"

"No, I swear I do!" My voice came out somewhat strained, which didn't help my case. "Ya gotta-Jesus christ dude, you've got to believe me!"

There was a tense standoff, with silence that I very much did not like. After what felt like an eternity, I added. "Look, I know I can't exactly PROVE that I believe you, but I'm not going to call the police just because you chopped down a few trees, alright? Is that... Is that a compromise we can work with?"

He observed me very quietly, trying to read my every feature. I could feel him pick apart every twitch, every crease, every direction I looked. I swallowed, trying to maintain eye contact-but I had quickly found eye contact much harder to maintain compared to before. Y'know. Before I questioned him cutting down trees. 《What the fuck is wrong with me? Why did I even question that!? What a fucking retard! Stupid fucking moron!》

I opened my mouth to try to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Thankfully, I didn't need to worry about that, because Mr. Scientist huffed. "Fine. I believe you."

Those words did not feel as nice as I had hoped. The tension and heat in my body did not wash away, I was simply made more aware of them as he accepted my response. I took my own deep breath, trying to settle back into a comfortable position in my seat.

Double Biology over there had a different idea though, instead completely obliterating any sense of peace by pointing out my mistakes. "You should know that telling me that you're not going to call the police kind of says you didn't believe me though."

"Er... Ye-... yeah, I kind of know that. Can't stop me from saying the truth though," I said, ending it with a small chuckle.

《God. Damn it. Mr. Matthaus, you are a fucking unbelievable retard. Can't even do one thing right.》

A sense of clarity washed over myself when I tried to re-examine the situation, trying to figure out how to prevent this from happening again. 《God, is it really that fucking frivolous? Get over yourself, Jesus man. «You are an unbelievable retard,» as if that wasn't just a touchy subject and nothing else. Eugh...》

I looked down to avoid eye contact, staring into my empty mug. There was a little blue debris and a couple of drop of the oran juice I had enjoyed. I couldn't help but frown, as if I was seeing my own reflection.

A pressing issue was that I knew I had to eat soon, but my stomach was too jostled by anxiety to actually muster up the appetite. That'd change soon enough, and I'd need my thousand calories of sustenance. Despite not feeling hungry, I decided I'd just ask.

"Hey, uhm... What... shit..." The expletive just tumbled out of my mouth. 《Fucking hell, collect yourself man.》 "What time is dinner going to be?"

"Mm, it's usually whenever I feel hungry. Are you hungry?"

"No, no! I just want to know. My appetite's kind of..." ≪How do you describe that? Euh, maybe «ruined» will work here.≫ "Well, ruined."

"Ah, I see-I see. Well, when you feel hungry, let me know! I've got an experiment I'd like to run around dinner time anyways."

"An... experiment?"

"Yes, yes! I've got what appears to be some energy root, and I'd extracted compounds. I want to see if I've got the correct compounds, and you're the perfect subject to verify data with!"

"Woah-woah-woah! Hey, I haven't agreed to it yet!"

"I promise you, it'll be entirely safe! I already tested it on myself, but science isn't any good if you can't confirm results!"

"Medical studies also require a placebo group!"

"I'll source that later!"

≪What the fuck is this guy's problem, I mean-≫ "Dude, if you put ANYTHING in my food, there is an entire national forest full of carnivores to search for your body in."

"Ah, don't be like that! I'll even pay you!"

That gave me pause. 《I'm not really strapped of cash, but cash is cash.》 I decided to probe my options more carefully. "Okay, you... may have just bought me. How much are we talking?"

"How about three thousand per test?"

They say every man's got their price point. That point where you can buy one's soul.

Apparently, mine was three thousand bucks.

"You've got yourself a deal," I said with some hesitation. "But I reserve the right to back out by giving you the money back. Got it?"

"Well if that's-that's all, then you've got a deal!"

Edit

Pub: 26 Dec 2025 11:34 UTC

Views: 15