Apocalypse: 2.4 Burnout

Preface

Genshin pulls went very well. Bird mommy is c2r1 now. Have a free chapter. 

Burnout 2.4

August 2015

I didn’t know what Rocket said to them, but getting the two poochyena pups to accept a permanent trainer was fairly easy after our little excursion. It was clear to anyone with eyes that the pair looked up to my linoone like a big brother, which was funny to me because there was a decent chance that they were roughly the same age. Sabrina hypothesized, and I agreed, that pokemon with human company evolved more swiftly than those in the wild.

In an ideal world, the two poochyena would have chosen Xavier and Jarvis as their trainers. Both were solid woodsmen and Jarvis’ survival skills might honestly have been better than my own. Xavier was ex-army, and the scrappy Mexican could probably outfight a small cougar. Most of all, these were the men I trusted most among the rangers.

Unfortunately, neither were good fits for the pups.

Jarvis was my second-in-command and much better at dealing with the townsfolk than me. That meant he remained around town whenever I headed off on my own. Being an aura-enhanced trainer, I could expect to do that more often. Given how much work he had to do, he declined and said he just didn’t have enough hours in the day to dedicate to a pokemon of his own.

As for Xavier, he was seeing a woman. They were pretty serious about it. Marriage as an institution wasn’t so formal around here, but they were as close to husband and wife as could be. Tara, the lady in question, was pregnant and Xavier understandably wanted to remain close to town.

That in itself didn’t mean he couldn’t take care of a poochyena, but the thought that I might one day take him into a dungeon, only to not come out with him again, made me not even bother asking. I’d already seen Sabrina break at losing her father. I didn’t ever want to be in a position where I might have to bear that kind of news to someone else.

In the end, it wasn’t like it was completely up to me. The pups were the ones who had to choose, after all.

The sister, older, bigger, and more taciturn, went to a young teen named Donnell. He was about sixteen or seventeen, always happy to help but inexperienced. He named her Spike of all things, a name she accepted with a careless shrug, maybe because he wanted to sound a bit tougher than he was.

Whatever the reason, I hoped that the two could grow together. That was why young pokemon were given to young children, right?

The male pup, smaller and more playful, went to Henry. Henry was a positively massive, Samoan man who stood well over six feet tall. He was built like a brick shithouse, with shoulders broader than some doors. He was also the man who saved my life once, back when we first encountered the sandshrew variant and one almost brained me with a Rollout.

In a hilarious contrast to his sister, the pup was named Nibbles. I had no clue why, but he seemed to love the name, not that I’d seen him upset over anything. He was really more of a puppy than a dark type and seeing the giant of a man wear him on his head like a cap was glorious.

That was all well and good, but it was now time for another town hall meeting. Like all such meetings, it was open to the public, but there were far fewer observers than last time.

We met up in the old church again. Whether it be for funerals or town halls, it was the place to be for any kind of group gathering. Up front, the pastor’s pulpit had been replaced with a long table, set up so that the people who actually mattered could sit in a panel and face the audience.

That was Mayor McAllen, Dr. Lansdowne, Pat Myers, Vincent Jackson, and myself. Pat spoke for the farmers, Vincent had his fishing club, and Dr. Lansdowne and Mayor McAllen represented the town as a whole. I would have loved to pass my seat to Sabrina or Jarvis, but they insisted the “ranger captain” had to be seen at events like this. We five weren’t a ruling council or anything of the sort, but there was no denying that we represented the key sectors most vital to the town’s survival.

“There aren’t as many people as last time,” I said as I looked out over the pews. I saw a few dozen, but that was a far cry from the two thousand who called Carnelian Bay their home. “You told everyone what this is about, right?”

“We did,” Mayor McAllen said curtly.

Austin’s dad was a short, chubby, Irish man with red hair and a hairline in full retreat. He reminded me a little of a garden gnome, without the usual cheer. These days, the man spent much of his time taking care of his paraplegic son. I didn’t know what happened to his wife; I was honestly too scared to ask.

Truthfully, I felt that there was a part of him that resented me. It wasn’t anything he did or said, he was always unfailingly polite with everyone, but his usual, warm smiles never quite reached his eyes with me.

There was no wonder why: My star rose as his son’s fell. Rocket and I saved so many lives, people said, so why couldn’t we save his son as well? Whether the crustle was our fault or not was irrelevant. For him, we were constant reminders of that day.

“I think people heard what the meeting was about and dismissed it as ‘ranger business,’” Vincent said. “Not everyone wants to hear about what’s going on outside the walls.”

“I reckon a few of them will tell their family. Don’t worry, whatever we talk about here will make its rounds,” Pat added. After I’d had a chat with the gloom and its oddish patch, they’d worked together to plant the pecha and oran berries. 

“That’s fair,” I said.

I couldn’t help but feel that many in the town were sticking their heads in the sand, but I wasn’t sure what I could do. Even if I could somehow inspire more interest, it wasn’t like I had the resources to train up many more rangers than I already had.

I watched as Sabrina arrived. She pushed Austin’s wheelchair with her and I was glad to see my friend again. He was doing better, in mind if not quite in body. I heard he’d taken to reading to the kids. I didn’t know how much experience he had teaching, but I figured making sure our young’uns didn’t grow up with their brains dribbling out their ears was important work.

We soon got started, which unfortunately meant I spent the better part of an hour talking about the dungeon. More than the challenge itself, I talked mostly about the pokemon I saw and any of their habits I’d noticed. Of particular emphasis were wooper, who I insisted on reminding everyone were poisonous and should not be touched, and the two varieties of stunfisk.

“Hold on, Shane,” Vincent said with a deep frown. “Are you saying that these… stunfisk… are going to start popping up around the lake?”

“Maybe? I can’t tell for certain,” I said unsurely. “The System said that these pokemon in the dungeon would be seeded in appropriate environments around the world.”

“Hold on, how are we supposed to know what is and isn’t an ‘appropriate environment?’ I don’t want Phil or one of my boys stepping on one of those things.”

“You said a stunfisk is akin to an electrified flounder,” Dr. Lansdowne said. “That would imply they favor saltwater. Now, I’m aware pokemon are a lot hardier, but just because they can survive around Lake Tahoe doesn’t mean the System would consider the lake ‘appropriate.’”

“Maybe, but who knows what the System thinks of all this.”

“It took me a week to get back and I left shortly after for two days with the poochyena,” I pointed out. “If you haven’t found one yet, I think it’s safe to say the stunfisk aren’t around here.”

“I don’t know. They’re hidden, you said.”

“I’ll take Rocket and run circles around the lake a few times. We’ll know for sure then,” I said, mostly to placate him. Then again, I’d seen the steel type variant and it almost ate my fucking foot. I didn’t want to know what one would do to a kid like Phil. “Until then, stay out of the mud flats and shallow waters. If you need to, poke the mud before you step with a sharp stick.”

“I suppose that’s what I’ll do. What else did you say was out there?”

“Gligar, tympole, cubone, and swinub. We’ve already seen teddiursa and geodude before so it’s not like those are new. Of the ones I mentioned, I can see tympole, cubone, and gligar being introduced to the local area.”

“Slower, Shane,” Pat said, “not all of us know what you’re talking about. Go over the new pokemon one by one if you don’t mind.”

“Gligar are ground-flying types. Think scorpions, but with wings, and bigger than your face. The dungeon might have messed with its natural habits, but I’d bet it’s still primarily nocturnal even in the wild. Its armor was hard enough that I had trouble piercing it with my hunting knife. Oh, and it evolves.”

“Well how the fuck are we supposed to deal with that?” one of the townsfolk spoke up.

“You don’t. We do,” Henry said grimly. “Any advice, boss?”

“Don’t move around at night,” I told him. “It jumped me when I was sleeping in a tree, but in hindsight, I think making camp by digging a hole in the ground would have been safer. It’s a cross between a bat and a scorpion so echolocation is probably how it gets around.”

“Are you sure? No offense, but we’re gambling our lives on your hunches.”

“The ears,” Sabrina said. “In the pokedex, the drawing isn’t very clear but a gligar has two, large protrusions on its head. Were those ears or horns, Shane?”

“Ears,” I confirmed. I couldn’t exactly drag the corpse with me, but I’d torn out its fangs just in case they could be used for something in the future. I’d gotten a good look at the body then. “Big ears that aren’t as armored as the rest of it.”

“What about the nose? What did its snout look like?”

“Pretty normal. I’m not sure how to describe it, kinda like any other mammal?”

“Not scrunched up or parted into a funny shape?”

“No.”

“Then echolocation isn’t likely. Sound needs to be emitted in a certain wavelength; that’s why some bats have those punched-in noses. But the big ears would imply that hearing is very important to it still. Owls, for example, have exceptional hearing even though they lack echolocation.”

“That might be it. In any case, stay still at night and remain low to the ground. They’re solitary though, and seemed quite territorial, so you won’t have to deal with more than one at a time.”

“Unless it’s mating season,” one of the other rangers grunted. “What else? Don’t the cubone things evolve too?”

“They do. Cubone are pretty short; the largest I saw was about two feet tall. I’d assume their evolved form doesn’t get much bigger than another foot or so. They’re still very strong though.”

“What’d they eat? Any aggressive habits?”

“Not meat,” I said,” or at least, they were very timid and Rocket and I faced very few of them. I think they mostly just want to be left alone.”

“And the swinub? Those are the real problem. Like, fuck, what if we get a mamoswine?”

“For us normal folk, please?” Mayor McAllen asked.

“Swinub are little piglets, not much more dangerous than a rattata,” I informed him. “Their final evolution however, is a boar crossed with a mammoth, tusks and all. I’d seriously question their ability to maneuver in a forest like this though. And considering they have Thick Fat as an ability in the games, I’d also say they’re likely to be more comfortable further north, maybe on a tundra somewhere.”

“It’s like the stunfisk again. We won’t know until we check. Aren’t a lot of animals migratory? Elk go from California up to Canada sometimes, right?”

“That’s right. It could be that swinub live here, but evolve and slowly migrate further north. The reason I think that’s less likely is that boars tend to be family oriented, and so do elephants. Unless they all evolve at once, it’d mean leaving their herd behind.”

“Check just in case. You never know, Shane.”

“I will. In any case, the final pokemon you might see around are tympole. They’re tadpoles that grow into toads that can manipulate sound and seismic waves.”

“Are they the ones with the swirly pattern on their tummies?” Vincent asked, “‘cause we’ve seen them before.”

“No, they’re different. Tympoles aren’t aggressive though.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Hold on, is that where all the pokemon came from? Each time someone clears the dungeon, new pokemon arrive all over the world?” someone said. I vaguely recognized her as one of the teachers at the town’s school.

“That’s our best guess at the moment,” I said said. “It’s impossible to know for sure, but we think that at least some species were introduced into the world as a result of the dungeons.”

“Then why the hell did you clear it? More pokemon are out there! They’re going to evolve and get more dangerous! And for what?”

“I cleared it because aura is vital. The System literally measures the power of bonds between me and my pokemon. Having aura, being able to grow as a trainer, it’s absolutely irreplaceable to the safety of the town.”

“But you’re only one person, Shane. I’m not saying you’re not important, but if you make the world more dangerous for everyone, and only get a little stronger yourself, is it really worth it?”

“It is. Shane didn’t just come back with the System. He came back with berry seeds from the pokemon world, oran and pecha.” Surprisingly, it was Dr. Lansdowne who spoke. “Those berries can save lives. Do you have any idea how groundbreaking a universal antidote is? Back in January, didn’t we lose people because they accidentally disturbed an ekans nest while it was hibernating?”

“Well, yeah, doc, but there’s no guarantee they have magic powers or whatever you’re hoping for. This isn’t a game. Shane might be playing Pokemon, but the rest of us are on Survivor.

“I don’t see why we shouldn’t expect more from the berries. Let me level with you, son: I genuinely cannot explain half the crap Rocket is capable of. No one can.”

“You’re supposed to be a man of science–”

“I am. And as a man of science, I believe things I see with my own eyes. So when I observe things that defy all conventional understanding, I’m forced to accept the truth: This is real. You can call it aura, or magic, or whatever else you want, but it’s real. We need to accept that and move past it.”

“Still,” the teacher said, her brow furrowing in concern. “Is it worth making the mountain so much more dangerous?”

“I still say yes. Now, hear me out: Pokemon existed before Shane cleared the Stampede Reservoir Dungeon. Whatever this ‘RKS System’ is, it’s seeding pokemon in appropriate habitats. That means when someone clears a dungeon in China, that might have an effect on us here.

“The pokemon are slowly and steadily being distributed all over the world, whether we like it or not. But the rewards for clearing the dungeons? Those belong only to the select few. That means that if we sit around with our thumbs up our asses, the world will change around us and we won’t have anything to show for it. No aura-enhanced rangers. No berries. No potentially vital medicines.

“I’m not saying Shane should start running through every dungeon around Tahoe, I doubt he wants that either, but I don’t think sitting still is the right answer. That’s what this town hall’s really about, to determine a best course of action now that we know more about the dungeon.”

That seemed to have convinced most people. I wasn’t around for the ekans incident, but judging by how people still shuffled nervously, it wasn’t something anyone wanted to remember.

In the end, Dr. Lansdowne was a very influential and well-respected man. He spoke with a frank sort of eloquence I wished I had. And because he spoke up for me, very few people were willing to argue. It was a good idea to go in for that physical.

“I think there is one more benefit to the berries that we haven’t considered,” Pat said quietly. “The gloom and oddish. We’ve gotten much friendlier with them since Shane gave them the berry seeds. We can even see them active around the day now.”

“That’s great, but… so what? I mean, grass types aren’t a big deal, right?” a man in the crowd asked, only to get dope-slapped by someone next to him, clearly not a farmer.

“It’s important because grass types make our crops grow faster. Did you think it’s normal to be able to feed two thousand people without even a full year of harvest since we moved here? We’re already seeing the seeds sprout and I think Shane got them to agree to protect the farm. That’s huge.”

“Alright, let’s accept that clearing the dungeons comes with tangible benefits,” Mayor Rodney said. “How can we do it in a way that’s both safe for Shane and his rangers and the town as a whole?”

I coughed lightly to get their attention. “For starters, I want to make it clear that I’m not going to run off to every dungeon we’ve found so far. Even if I wanted to, I can’t. We just don’t have the manpower to risk ourselves like that. Not to mention, training a pokemon for battle is hard work. My wooper, Henry and Donnell’s poochyena, they aren’t ready for the dungeon.”

“That’s just as well. I think we should workshop a few rules for exploration. If anyone in the audience has any suggestions, now’s the time to be heard.”

I jotted down a bunch of different ideas, but many of them got scrapped for their sheer impracticality. For example, no one, not even Scout, could just head into a dungeon with the expectation of being able to withdraw. It wasn’t about speed, the dungeon just sometimes closed while a challenge was taking place.

Nor could I “farm” the Stampede Reservoir Dungeon. Yes, it remained after I cleared it, but the message had been clear, “The dungeon will remain open from this point forth for those who seek greater challenges.” That implied that there would be bigger obstacles if I ever entered again, likely in the form of more evolved pokemon. Hell, there wasn’t even a guarantee that the mission would be to take a long hike like last time.

It soon turned into a Q&A session for me, in which the townsfolk got to ask me things about the dungeon. It was a little bothersome, but I could see the benefit of familiarizing them with the dungeon this way. Despite the snorlax attack that forced them here, the town was too naive. Maybe they trusted their wall too much, but I felt that this was a mistake.

In the end, we agreed on the obvious. First, heading into the dungeon without a pokemon was unacceptable, not that any of my rangers were that suicidal in the first place.

Second, anyone heading into the dungeon must register with Jarvis, who would then inform Mayor McAllen. The idea was that should I ever decide to take a squad of men with me, the mayor would be informed of any manpower shortages for the duration of nour trip. That, too, was reasonable.

Lastly, for obvious reasons, the dungeon was to be explored on a purely volunteer basis. I could not simply demand that people accompany me, not that I would have in the first place.

All of this was basic stuff, but it felt nice to have it written down. Making much ado about nothing was in itself a trapping of society, after all.

Author’s Note

Second town hall meeting! At least this time, no one’s accusing Rocket of stealing food, right?

Slowly, his relationship with the town is improving.

Random Fact: You are taller in the morning. This is because your spine decompresses while you sleep and builds up fluid between the discs of your vertebrae. As you sit, stretch, etc., your body expels this fluid and you shrink slightly. The height difference is only about a quarter inch, half at most.