A woeful ship horn stirred the crew awake. Night offered little rest. Hazel's hand rested on the table's edge, fingers crusted with salt where the metal had flaked and come away in brittle chips. Most slept with one eye open, each creak of rusty bulkheads pulling them out of slumber in cold sweat. The walls still held, but for how long, no one could say. The ocean always took its due.
Hazel woke up face down on the table, drooling over her own notepad, a pen wedged between her cheek and scrappy varnish. She pulled her foggy glasses up, hand shielding her from the pale light that drilled the dusty windows. The sun peeked through the dreary gray cloud, looming over the black ocean like a thick, impenetrable veil.
The researcher yawned, covering her mouth. Mae's jacket slipped off her shoulder.
She blinked, still halfway kipping.
the captain deadpanned, his expression barely changing.
The sheer amount of red dots on the console made Hazel pause. It was surprising that the vessel sailed at all. But beggars couldn't be choosers.
The captain burst into a fit of laughter.
The researcher didn't respond. Just scoffed, staring into the distance. The ocean turned oddly calm. The wind seemed to shift as they got closer to the island. It didn't bite. The typhoon howled somewhere far away, filling the background with a woeful echo. But no gusts reached the sails.
Drizzle tapped against the glass in silence. It's gotten colder. Mist washed over the coast, stretching for miles away. The whole horizon fizzled out into a milky haze. There was no island on the skyline. Not yet. It had been swallowed by a gray wall that looked less like weather and more like a barrier of sorts. The boat seemed like a plane about to plunge into the clouds above.
The sea was black, a gunmetal color. The gulls refused to follow, their shrieks fading as the ship sailed closer to its destination. They peeled away, flying off toward countless little islets dotting the murky waters.
The silence fell like a blanket, thick and heavy. The hum of snarling engines turned into a ringing echo. The waters stayed still and quiet. Too quiet.
The researcher snatched a pair of binoculars to peer into the murk. She pressed the cold metal to her face. Nothing met her gaze but a relentless wash of white. She blinked, harder this time, hoping the haze would clear, but the color just pressed until it swallowed the outline of the ship whole. It was as if the skies themselves had slipped down and wrapped around her, leaving her stranded and adrift within their veil.
Hazel strained her ears for a sound, any hint of a coastline or seabird, but only the muffled throb of her own heartbeat answered. The binoculars offered her nothing but a reflection of her own uncertain breath fogging up the glass.
Hazel fiddled with the lace to calm her nerves. Cold sweat popped out on her palms. There was something strange about the island. Something that she couldn't put her finger on. The waves were too calm for comfort, the air too stale, the noise too absent. This eerie silence was much worse than the storms that had ceased a little too abruptly.
The door to the cabin creaked, letting her out. Cold bit her cheeks like daggers, gnawing all the way down to the bones. The wet kind that crawled through any kind of clothing, given time.
The bunny patiently waiting for his trainer outside perked up, slipping off a rusty barrel. He landed on the deck, strolling a little closer. His arms hid behind his back, eyes glinting with child-like excitement.
Raboot cut her path, getting in the way like a puppy, his bandaged chest proudly puffed up.
The coney stopped, stretching his paws with something precious stuffed in between them. His smile grew wide, from ear to ear. Palms opened up, cupping a piece of quartz, smooth and shiny like a gemstone.
"I've found this-"
The researcher dived into the hold before he could finish, her heavy mind elsewhere.
"For you..." The bunny mumbled; his voice trailed off into an awkward pause.
He stood there like a statue for a few seconds. "But you're busy..."
The corners of his mouth curled down. Excitement fled from his face; the smirk was gone.
"I just uh..." Garnet lisped, taking a step back. "I just wanted to say thank you for..."
His shoulders slumped. Gray ears flattened. He slowly turned away. "Next time, I guess."
Raboot watched in silence as both of the girls came up again, already chatting about something more important. They disappeared in the cabin before he could make a sound. His snout twitched.
The bunny turned away, aimlessly wandering towards the prow. A deep sigh escaped his lips, and he leaned on the fenders, staring ahead. His paw tightly clutched the pebble.
"Why does it take me to get hurt for you to notice me these days?" he murmured quietly, looking at the windows. The two of them were back at it, doing their own thing.
Garnet's smile soured. He tore his eyes from the glass, fiddling with a little stone he found. It idly rolled between his fingers, smooth surface heating up and cooling down again.
"Stupid," he muttered to himself, ears softly wincing. "It's just a rock anyway."
He swung as if about to throw it overboard. But his paw couldn't let go, hovering over the railings.
"Hey, you!" The feline's voice came out of nowhere.
"WOAH!" the bunny winced, almost launching up into the air. A cloud of burning sparks came out of his mouth,
Floragato tittered, slipping from behind the corner, each step of his so gentle and so silent that Garnet wouldn't hear a single creak. It came naturally. Even when he didn't intend to.
"You scare me sometimes," Raboot complained, stomping his foot into the ground. A childish pout switched to a startled grimace.
"Do I?" Jasper's bright pink eyes innocently fluttered in a response.
"Mhm. I swear, one of those days, you're pouncing and having me for dinner." The bunny squinted, foot impulsively tapping on the floor. "You little prowler."
Some wild habits never left his system. The feline's claws and fangs jutting out of the corner of his lips made something stir inside the coney when they flashed without warning, and when he was already stressed. Some sort of defensive fury that made his joints stiff, lit the tips of his fingers fiery red, and forced his heart to race a fair bit quicker. Right before the familiar scent could soothe the instinct. He took a deep breath, quickly snapping out of it.
"I'm... Sorry," Jasper whispered, voice as soft as cotton. His friend's shift in demeanor didn't go unnoticed. A tinge of guilt shot through Floragato's stare. But he didn't linger on the topic, lest it become too awkward for his friend.
The cat stepped closer, showing a vial of lilac goo. "You forgot to take your medicine."
"I'm fine!" Garnet crossed his arms, but pressing them into his injured chest made him flinch.
The feline shook his head. "You're slouching."
"No, I'm not!" Raboot raised his snout high. The pain was still there. Not stabbing as it used to, but rather gnawing at the bones, dull and unbearably frustrating. But admitting such was worse than living through it.
He shifted his weight from one foot to another. An awkward step that he regretted thereafter. His shoulder twitched. A burning sting squeezed a growl out of him.
Jasper inched toward the bunny, softly catching his wrist. "Garnet. Sit."
"I said I'm-"
Floragato patiently entreated, softly cutting him off, "Please?"
Raboot closed his eyes, nose hidden in the fuzzy scarf around his neck. Then let out a sigh. "Alright."
He slumped onto a crate, throwing one leg over the other in surrender. "Do your thing."
"Thank you," the cat murmured, claws delicately examining the bandage. Pink paw pads wiped off the dirt. "Here. Looks nice and tidy."
Jasper bit the corner of the tie, tautening the wrapping. The vial tapped against the bunny's snout, but the scent alone made him recoil. The stench of herbs and something chemical forced a disgusted cough out of him.
"Gross," Garnet protested, pulling a childish scowl. "Ugh, it smells like something died in there."
"Pretty please?" Floragato tried his luck again. "It'll make the injuries heal quicker."
As much as he disliked man-made medicine, he couldn't deny one simple fact. It may be crude, intrusive, and absolutely vile to taste. And yet it worked.
"Nope." Raboot violently shook his head, squinting at the glass like it personally insulted him. "Nuh-huh. I'd rather fight that thing again."
"Just one sip. You'll get better. Promise." The cat inched towards his friend.
"You can't make me!" Garnet's foot stomped into the deck. He bucked against the crate in objection, throwing a little temper tantrum.
The cat paused, pink eyes studying him for a moment. Not in annoyance. Just thinking.
Jasper stood up, taking a seat on the same crate. Close enough to have their shoulders rub against each other. His tail rested on top of the bunny's scut, softly swishing to calm him down. Raboot froze, still moody. But he didn't shy away. The feline's claws vanished between his fingers without a trace. He pressed the vial into his lips. Not forcing, but waiting for permission.
"Ugh." Garnet's infantile protest finally died down, but he didn't fold completely. "Fiiine. Just one little sip."
His mouth opened up. But before he could even process, the whole thing went down in one go. He gagged, coughing so violently that he almost fell off the container. The taste was foul and pungent. The texture of a wet slug and the flavor of something sharp and venomously artificial like a glass cleaner felt almost like a personal betrayal.
For just a moment, the pain intensified, squeezing a grunt out of the injured bunny. But then it went away as quickly as it started. A wave of warmth came down in its stead.
"You..." Garnet pressed his snout into his paw. "That's... Cheating..."
Jasper let out a gentle chuckle, tossing the empty vial aside. For a brief moment, he watched Garnet in silence, the corners of his lips twitching as he waited for a reaction. Then a playful glint sparked in his eyes. "You wouldn't do it otherwise. Fight me."
"Oh, I'll fight you SO HARD!" Raboot slipped off the crate, assuming a battle stance and shifting from one foot to the other, fists raised up high. "Come on!"
The feline simply smirked, watching him goof around. No matter how intimidating he tried to make himself appear, the cat knew he'd never swing. Pink eyes innocently blinked, short tail curled up, legs crossed.
"Grrr..." The bunny folded. The worst he could pull off was land a playful slap across Floragato's shoulder. "You and your little tricks."
His fingers finally went loose, a little pebble still clenched in between.
"What's that?" Jasper pointed at the stone cupped in his palm.
"Ah." Garnet hesitated for a moment before showing his friend the find.
"I uh... I found it near the nets. Got taggled up in seaweed," he confessed.
The feline squinted. Not to object, but to complain.
"I know, I know," Raboot sighed, tightly gripping his little treasure. "I was supposed to be resting. But I wanted to find something nice."
"It's... Really shiny. See?" he stretched his paw. Jasper's reflection looked back at him from the crystal-clear surface. "Pretty cool, right? Humans like shiny things. I think."
"It's beautiful." The feline's claw softly tapped on the stone. Translucent crystal with a slightly pinkish shade of glass. "Rose quartz. My Mom used to love those."
His words made something glint in Garnet's eyes. His smile faded, inch by inch. He stared at the little gift he had prepared, "You know..."
"She used to notice when I found stuff." Raboot's lips twitched, struggling to process an unpleasant cocktail of emotions. His ear dropped a little lower. "And smile and..."
"She's busy." Floragato's paw gently rubbed his friend's shoulder.
The bunny let out an awkward titter. "She's always..."
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
"I just..." His red eyes fell on the cabin. Two girls were laughing without a care in the world. "It's work or... Mae or... Someone else."
"I guess I... Miss the times when she was proud of me," he confessed, unsure of how to put it into words.
Jasper's paw drew gentle circles on the bunny's fur. Half-grooming, half-grounding him.
"She still is. Always. You got hurt protecting her," the cat soothed, voice barely above a whisper.
"More like failed," the coney huffed, unsure of who to be upset at. "I wasn't the only one fighting."
"Garnet. You nearly drowned because you wouldn't back down from danger," Floragato murmured, tail curled around his friend. "She trusts you with her life."
"It's not about trust. It's just..." He turned away, trying to put his finger on it. But feeling sorry for himself was even worse than whatever caused this ache. "It's whatever."
The cat softly bumped into him, shoulder to shoulder. Not quite a hug. But something to remind him that he's not alone.
Raboot looked at the stone, then back at Jasper. For a second, the distant salt air fused with a faint whiff of oil, the mingled scents that clung to their fur ever since that storm. Sharp, briny, and unmistakably theirs. His paw softly nudged the feline's wrist. "You should have it."
Jasper's ears flicked, both falling sideways. He whispered, shaking his head, "I wasn't the one you picked it for."
"But you're the one who always stays," Garnet insisted.
Floragato went silent for a moment before accepting the gift. He cradled it with reverence, looking into the rose-colored glass. The corner of his lips sprang up. The feline leaned into a soft embrace. "Thank you. That really means a lot."
"You really mean a lot." The bunny pressed himself into the fenders, watching the path ahead. "Dumbo."
They stood there, staring into the distance. Heat coming from Raboot's pelt felt like a saving grace, shielding the cat against a painful bite of cold. A little snort escaped him. It took effort not to let it trail off into a purr.
The white murk thickened, turning into an impervious wall of fog. A border between the eerily calm sea and whatever lies beyond. One couldn't make a single thing inside the bleached abyss, save for a faint, distant glimmer. A fragile little star burning somewhere far away, the only sign that there was something in the clouds to begin with. A flicker of a lighthouse.
The mist approached, thick and solid. The prow came closer, ready to cut into the haze. For a moment, time seemed to pause as the ship teetered on the very brink between the ocean and this quiet archipelago, balancing at the precipice in fleeting hesitation. Before the keel pierced the smog.
It wrapped over the hull like cotton, soft, gentle, and absolutely blinding. The sounds changed with a huff, turning into a quiet thrum much like an echo in a crystal vase. Waves barely tapped against the steel, too calm, too smooth, too cordial. A gentle, reverent embrace. The visibility dropped to a mere few yards. The world shrank into a tiny bubble of nothing but the black waters overboard and gray skies above, with a milky void between.
The boat shook. Softly. Subtly. Like an aeroplane diving into clouds. And then it paused, effortlessly gliding through the still tides. It felt like cotton. And for a moment, all sense of direction seemed completely lost. Nothing but that color white around. Tranquil, soundless, untroubled. Almost comforting.
The ocean got completely quiet. Nothing moved. Just tapping of water on the bulkheads, so subtle that the waves seemed deep asleep. Silence pressed in. Then, distant shapes began to form. At first, they looked like darker patches of the fog. Still. They didn't shift at all. They came as smudges of spilled ink where the sky and sea should meet. Above the water, a high, uneven line hung frozen.
Two Pokémon froze. Claw tips flashed from the feline's paws. The bunny's knees bent down on instinct.
Surfing Bird slowed its pace, and the engine's thrum turned into a gentle whisper. The headlamps didn't make it through the murk, their blinding rays drowning in the depths of mist. But as the ship came closer, black outlines turned into figures. Trees, at first. They grew in patches above the peaceful waves, the coast still unseen. Rows of pines and aspen crowns, all dry and naked. Their branches spread like twisted fingers up ahead. They jetted from sloped craggy hills, twigs blotting out whatever little daylight leaked through the overcast horizon. No wind moved the trunks. They stood perfectly hushed.
Then came the steep mountain cliffs, perched far above. All jagged cobblestone and sawtooth granite, gray like the skies themselves. The sun barely made its way through the haze, casting a sickly, colorless glow over the bleak soil. Sharp rocks dotted the seaboard, jutting out of water like caltrops overgrown with algae and dusted with salt. Deadwood bleached bone-white drifted in between them, almost frozen in the absence of currents. As if the tides themselves resented coming close.
Late autumn claimed dominion. All shrubs stood naked, all grass dried up and pale. The shore stretched out like a single streak of black acrylic paint over an empty canvas. Quiet. It seemed like a picture on the wall. A photograph. Completely still.
The feline's ears angled, searching for the background noise. But there was none. No sounds that he was used to. No screams of gulls following the ship. No dockside bells. No chatter in the distance or hum of tides that washed over the coast. Just silence. Soothing, tender, and strangely serene.
"It doesn't look that bad," the feline whispered, then bit his own tongue. His voice boomed like an echo in an empty barrel. "I don't even know what I expected."
His chin nestled on the fenders, shoulders tightly pressed into his friend. Pink eyes fluttered close, then opened up halfway. The scenery felt borderline lethargic. No birds up in the trees. No splashes in the water. This place has fallen into a deep, heavy slumber.
Raboot looked over the empty coast, his long gray ears drooped. "So much for the stuff of nightmares. It looks..."
"Ugly?" Floragato softly nudged him, murmuring under his breath.
"Boring," Garnet confessed, head slumping over his folded arms. Whatever tension he had felt retreated. It all seemed stupid now.
He waited for that pang inside his stomach. A hunch to prove him wrong. But it didn't come. "Much ado about nothing. Sleepy."
A wide-mouthed yawn escaped the bunny. He pulled the fold of fur a little higher, hiding his snout in fuzz. Another sound disturbed the peace. A faint creak of metal overboard. They looked ahead to watch another shape approach from the mist.
A bell buoy passed by the portside, its surface eaten by both salt and rust. The frame crumbled long ago, leaving only bare bones of corroded metal, with little patches of peeled paint. Streaks of naval red and white. It rang once, slow and tired as the tide swelled behind the wounded ship. That little ding turned into a distant echo, repeating in an endless loop through what felt like countless miles. The sound carried far. The silence answered, thick and booming.
The mountain ridge turned into a little bay carved in between the cliffs. Then came something bigger. Large skeletal remains protruded from the water. A sunken rooftop. A steeple of a fishery reduced to nothing more than rotten beams. Old piers half-drowned in the sea. Flipped boats floating where the tideway claimed the shore years ago. Ribs of crumbled docks sticking out of the foam. The ocean had advanced and retreated so many times that there was no clear line for a shore. The ruins popped into view, then disappeared back into the haze again. A few guard towers loomed far in the distance, projectors off, nests broken and abandoned.
Crates, carts, haul racks, and tattered canopies were scattered on the gray sand. Some leaned over the broken fencing, some roamed through the murky waves, dumped in a hurry. Green algae dust claimed the deadwood. Molluscs and barnacles encrusted the remains.
A stench of stale water and that unmistakably sharp punch of pelagic cocktails of dead fish, rotten weed, and rancid brine mixed with something sickly sweet made Raboot recoil like a mouse from fire.
Loose planks tapped against the bulkheads. Old buoys brushed over the metal, torn nets groaned as the keel plunged through.
"It's all..." The feline watched over the railing with his mouth wide open. Green tail anxiously curled. "Dead."
The mist was everywhere. It rolled off the island in thick sheets. Sunlight bled through the fogbank ahead. Wrong, somehow. It cradled dozens of rusty hulls jutting out of the sunken coast. A lonely freighter stuck in the mud, all barrels and containers half-swallowed by the sand and silt. A few yachts wrecked on the shore. And countless more. They passed by the starboard like carrion, some ancient bones yet to be put to rest.
A languid creak escaped the battered vessel. The turbines slowed, letting out an apathetic wheeze. Surfing Bird went silent, drawing to a halt near a scuttled tub. A fishing trawler that was roughed up by the storm so badly that the hull seemed all but unrecognizable.
Dean lingered at the wheel as the vessel slowed, his knuckles white against the cracked varnish. For a heartbeat, he hesitated, staring into the suffocating fog and the graveyard of ruined ships.
Was there any turning back? The question flickered in his eyes. But only for a moment. He exhaled, jaw set, and reached for the console, fingers cold like death.
Thick rusty chains clung. The anchor plunged into the black, still water, its splash turning into a loud echo that carried on for miles. A ship's horn's howl deafened the crew. The sound looped endlessly. Once. Thrice. A dozen times.
The silence answered, loud, unbothered, all-consuming. No flaps of wings of scared birds. No tolls. No chitter. They were the only living things in the whole world, so it would seem.
Dean's heavy boots tapped on the rusty staircase. He slipped out of the cabin, circled by his faithful Pokémon.
The mariner didn't seem enthusiastic, resigned to the will of chance.
The pole reached all the way to the next ship's ramp to pull it down. It didn't budge, at first. The gears groaned, sprinkling rust into the pitch-black water. But then it snapped, crashing onto Surfing Bird's fenders with a thunderous clang.
His fingers ran through the knots, double-checking all the ropes before embarking. Flint and Tinker mirrored his moves in perfect synchrony. It seemed like both had been at it for years. Only the hare seemed out of place. Lopunny stood behind the group, loaded with bags and pouches, strapped together into a single haul. Her knees wobbled from the sheer weight of it. But she didn't make a sound, carrying their luggage like a pack mule.
The bunny looked at his trainer, still chatting away with Mae. His eyes glinted with newfound determination.
"Garnet-"
Before the feline could finish, Raboot's paws already clutched the ramp. A little bit too loudly. As if to make sure that Mom would notice. He went in first, hopping onto the damp metal. It crunched like snow beneath his feet, entire flakes of salt and damp corrosion raining down into the sea.
The coney paused for just a moment, his sole hovered over the narrow walkway, eyes catching a glimpse of black tides underneath. He turned around, briefly. As if to make sure that his owner was paying attention.
The metal dipped a finger's breadth under his weight. It whined, complaining with each move. Garnet spread his arms, balancing himself as he walked the plank. The water far below didn't move. It simply shimmered like a pool of oil. The bunny held his breath, inching closer to the scuttled vessel, half-swallowed by the silt. The fog pressed from all sides until nothing remained but the opposing sides of two ships and a pathway in between. The rest was blinding white.
"Wait for me," Jasper whispered, his voice hushed and cautious. As if he were afraid to wake something. But even a quiet murmur came out like thunder. The lack of any sounds became oppressive.
Floragato followed, his steps as soft as cotton, each move so light that iron beams seemed not to notice. His tail curled high. Not the usual relaxed and jaunty hook, but tight and bristled as a hedgehog.
Raboot reached the trawler first. He hopped onto the rusty deck, landing with a grunt of bulkheads. Gray floppy ears perked up. But there was no sound. Only an echo of his own sole pads tapping against the crusty iron. It answered from within the vessel.
The feline slipped off the walkway right behind him, paw tightly squeezing a stretched vine. The ship looked empty. Time hasn't been kind, painting the floor with seaweed, barnacles, and smears of salt dust. Antennae collapsed long ago, dragging the crow's nest with them. The glass was shattered. Some during the storm; it must have gotten in. Some after the crew has fled. Old crates and barrels have been emptied out and broken. The loose partitions creaked, slow and rhythmic, resonating with each step. Low guttural whines of metal betrayed their presence.
The bunny straightened. His chest puffed up as he glanced over their trainer, still occupied securing lines. Too far. Too busy. He lingered for a heartbeat longer than he should have, gathering his courage. From there, mist devoured Surfing Bird. The boat hid in the clouds, leaving only the very edge protruding from the fog. They couldn't see the shore. Just rust and metal under their feet and a flicker of a distant light beyond. That guiding star of a lighthouse, countless miles away, ablaze inside this white abyss. An empty limbo.
The captain shouted orders. His voice carried across the water, thin and stretched. As if it traveled from somewhere far away, a whistle in an empty chamber. Raboot and Floragato moved, scouting ahead before the rest could reach them. Their task was clear enough: find a safe route through the derelict trawler and check if anything still remained on board. Every cautious step was meant to uncover signs of life or danger, guiding the others past the gauntlet of ruin.
Dull creaks rang through the deck with each step. The feline's ears spread out, a hunter's instinct. He waited for the waves to move, for deadwood to tap across the hull, for the ropes to sway and hit the metal, for all this subtle background noise. But no answer came. The silence was becoming hostile. Too still. Too perfect. No ripples disturbed the oily black water underneath. No reflections looked back at them. Just ink.
A soft tap on the hull drew the cat's attention. Inteleon slipped after, quietly pointing at the roof. She swiftly scaled the cabin to perch high on the catwalk and watch the path beneath. Her golden eyes peered into the mist, her fingers locked, expecting a warm welcome. An ambush. Anything. But the whole world seemed to be sleeping.
The metal shrieked again as the hare hopped off the ramp, carrying the haul with her. A faint echo of her landing hung longer than it should have. Her weight hit the deck with a dull thud and jingle of straps and chains, but the hull carried it onward. The sound crawled along the plates under their feet and stretched on into the boat's bilge, a traveling shudder that moved away from them. They heard it go along the hold and climb up the stairs in an endless loop, crawling somewhere deep below the bow.
And then a distant answer. A gentle little knock. As if someone's knuckle tapped on old dusty furniture. The feline froze, pulling the bud off his apron. His claws slid out, his ears angled to the side. Long whiskers twitched.
"It's hollow..." he whispered, looking under his feet. Beneath was yet another deck, choked full of rust and wreckage. Light barely made it through, outlining the ruins.
Garnet paused, listening to the world around. Or rather the absence of it. The fog pressed closer, clinging to the railings rather than drifting past. It pooled over the cold metal like clouds of steam, blotting out the shore. Each breath felt borrowed.
Inteleon didn't move. She stood still like a statue, her finger slightly lifted up. As if she was about to share a gesture, but didn't quite finish it. Her golden eyes pierced the fog, "Clear."
The coast seemed so calm that it put her off, brows heavy as lead.
Flops shuffled across the deck, peeking over the edge of the scuttled trawler. A little jetty protruding from the pier below stabbed it right through the starboard. The ship was gutted long ago, thrown into the docks by ocean tides. It careened sideways, crushing the wharf under its weight. Kegs and barrels were scattered on the empty walkways, planks white from salt. Remains of a disaster that happened in the distant past.
"We can go downstairs from here." The hare wheezed, licking her parched lips. "And then... Right through the breach."
The bunny squinted his eyes, looking at the monstrous haul behind her back. "You sure you're going to-"
"It's okay!" she cut him off with an awkward giggle. "I've had much worse."
"Have a care," Opal whispered, landing on the deck nearby. "The port seems empty."
"Is it a bad thing?" Flops replied, readjusting the slings.
"Yes," Inteleon barked back, staring at the piers below half-swallowed by the mist. "A perfect place for an ambush. Watch your step."
"I hate it here," the feline faltered. He glanced at the others, his ears flicking. "It's way too quiet."
"Well..." The bunny chimed in, striding towards the stairs. "How about we spice it up then?"
"Ashes..." Opal groaned, rolling her eyes. "Don't tell you're going-"
"Marching feet go tap-tap-tap!" He walked downstairs, boldly trudging forth. A little too boldly, like he's trying to impress. "No such thing as ghost or trap!"
"Oh my gods, he's singing..." Inteleon threw her head back, letting out a sigh.
"Left and right and left again!" Garnet stepped on the scaffolding. The metal creaking, his voice echoing from the empty hull of a dead ship like an organ through a large cathedral. "I am brave, ten out of ten!"
"I know this one..." Flops let slip a dumb chuckle.
"If the locals won't kill us, the second-hand embarrassment most definitely will..." The amphibian took off with the most deadpanned expression she could manage to pull up.
"If it wiggles - I will kick!" Lopunny dashed after Raboot, clamps dangling against each other.
"If it hisses - I am quick!" Garnet got carried away. The noise they were creating soothed the growing feeling of anxiety.
The hare slouched, barely holding the weight of her oversized slingbag, but kept on nevertheless, "If it roars - I roar back louder!"
"If it-"
The bunny couldn't finish. One of the stair traps broke under his foot. He sank down for a few inches. Old, rusty metal snapped, and beams fell into the pool below. "OUCH!"
Bits of corroded bulkheads landed with a loud thud that rang throughout the entire dockyard like a thunderous landslide.
"Ugh..." Opal sighed, cracking her jaw. "Lumberfoot. Must you sing instead of watching where you step?"
Garnet pulled his leg back from the rubble. Like nothing happened whatsoever. "I'm boosting our morale!"
He hopped over the railing, leaning into the half-flooded bilge. Most of the floor has been destroyed, leaving only segments of catwalks and pipes with pools of salty water in between.
The feline's mind was elsewhere. He barely paid attention. His nose twitched as he followed his friend, carefully sniffing the walls. Each time he did, his tail flicked a little harder. Tense and crooked. The lack of any markings was more concerning than the silence. Wild Pokémon would have taken the wreckage over long ago. Yet somehow, none of them bothered to.
Barnacles scratched the bunny's soles. He almost slipped on the algae, trudging through the heaps of old wreckage. The lower deck was a mess of broken furniture and twisted metal. No crew in sight. Nor any signs of what became of them.
Garnet clapped his paws, puffing out a sheaf of sparks. Bright tongues of fire climbed his fingers. He swung his arms around like a torch to light the way ahead. The flames highlighted the same steel-colored mist that claimed the boat from within.
Raboot went slowly, paws tapping on the cold floor. Beads of condensate dotted the crusty vents and walls like drops of sweat. Remains of marine life peeked out of the silt, filling the air with a putrid stench of dead fish, gray scales glistening in the light amidst the brown puddles of decay.
Something tumbled from upstairs, another rain of metal crashing into the stagnant water. The bunny turned around to look at the disturbance. But then backed down into the cat behind him.
His eyes caught a shape hiding between partitions.
"Who-"
Surprise gave way to defiance. The flames sprang a little higher, lighting the hall in warm, bright orange. Floragato sent his yo-yo for a spin. They took position, eyes peering into the murk.
The figure simply stood there in the middle of the hall, imposing and broad-shouldered. The scouts froze. None dared to make a sound.
The stranger didn't advance, didn't retreat. They lingered in the dead end of the corridor, a gray smudge amidst the milky fog, head propped under a damaged pipe that leaked rainwater from above.
Tap-tap-tap. Droplets fell onto the floor with an echo, pooling beneath the creature's feet. Their ripples disturbed the perfectly reflective surface.
The feline's pupils narrowed to thin slits. He took a cautious step back, finally breaking the silence. "H-hello?"
No response. It kept on standing there. Still. Unmoving. The echo of his own voice came back in a loop. The figure's shoulder shifted, making two Pokémon flinch.
Garnet reacted first, instinct over thought. "HEY! Who do you think you are?"
His foot stomped into the metal. The flames sputtered, brushing against the rusty walls. Inteleon positioned herself behind, aiming at the silhouette ahead.
There was no answer.
Something screeched inside the mist. A sound of iron rubbing against stone. An ear-slashing rustle. As if the figure moved.
Raboot lashed out, breathing out a warning shot. A stream of fire washed over the bulkheads. The light, however, made very little difference aside from coloring the blinding mist in orange.
But in the flash, he got a glimpse of an imposing, large creature towering over them all. A brown bulbous head was looking directly at him.
The feline lost it next. His yo-yo launched itself towards the stranger. The bud made contact with a loud metallic clang. The figure moved, rocking back and forth. The silhouette crept forward, about to lunge.
"WATCH OUT!" Jasper shrieked, jerking the vine back. His paw grabbed Garnet by his shoulder, pulling him onto the ground.
Instead of leaping, the thing slowly heeled over. It hit the floor with a clap so loud and weighty that the force of impact by itself rose a whole cloud of dust up in the air. Something shattering with a glassy ding. Shards flew across the flooded deck like shrapnel.
Pink eyes sprang up, claws out and ready to fight tooth and nail.
"Oh..." he whispered.
The feline looked at the assailant only to see a massive rusty helmet for a head lying face down on the ground. A dome welded to an iron collar and brown cloth beneath. The thunder of the collision still rang throughout the empty ship.
"It's..." Floragato muttered, getting back on his feet. A red tint dusted up his nose. "It's a diving suit..."
The bunny blinked, embarrassment hitting like a truck. His voice was barely above a murmur. "I knew that!"
"Why did you attack?" Jasper answered with a nervous titter.
"I don't know. Why did you?" he parried, puffing up his cheeks.
"Children..." Inteleon took a step forward to look over the relic.
The suit seemed to be covered head to toe in scratches and cuts, old locks worn down and battered. As if someone was trying to get in. With no avail.
Lopunny breathed a sigh of relief, shuffling past the two humiliated friends. She seemed to be too drained to care, knees wobbling from strain, paws tightly clutching the straps that bit into her pelt.
Raboot looked at her, stumbling and tripping over the pipes, each step worse than the one before.
"Okay, stop," he barked, shaking his head. "You're going to fall."
"It's not that bad! Let me just... Catch a little break," she protested, leaning on the wall to have a breather.
The bunny didn't take no for an answer, furiously stomping towards her. Garnet shamelessly grabbed one of the pouches and snatched it off her back.
"No, it's fine! I'll take care of it..." the hare spoke, but her words fell upon deaf ears.
He took half of the load, passing a few slings to the feline. Jasper hesitated for a few seconds before accepting. Anything to wash down the flavor of embarrassment.
"Guy! Seriously, no need to..." Flops laughed it off, but both of them took off, striding into a breach inside the hull. "Oh... Alright then. I mean. I wouldn't say now. If that..."
She paused, awkwardly fixing the clamps of whatever bags remained. Then joined the rest, as they walked out into the mist.
A hole in the rusty bulkheads connected the wreckage of a derelict ship with a little jetty sticking out of the wharf. The clouds condensed so thick that none could see the shore. Only a wooden pathway through the murky waters. A limbo. A border of some sort. A single narrow trail with nothing but white around.
They trudged forth, paws tapping on the soaked wood. The vessel right behind them vanished, fog swallowing the world even a mere few feet away.
A lonesome road, one and only passage from the sea beyond and to shore above with a bleached void in between. A threshold, perched on the very brink. No rails. No fenders. Just planks loosely nailed to each other, half of which crumbled under the weight of time. Buoys tied to both sides of the tight landing float marked the rough edges of the bridge. And far below... All milky white. The waves didn't make it through.
The island was asleep. The only company that followed was the sounds of their own footsteps, ringing for what seemed like countless miles.
A dusty old signpost stood at the end of the crumbling jetty, the paint long peeled, the letters scratched out and faded.
Lopunny stopped by the board, squinting her pink eyes. A gentle whisper took off her parched lips, "Welcome... To... Einsamheim."
"You can read?" Jasper stared at her in pure shock.
"A little," she murmured, brushing his surprise away like her skill is nothing more than an afterthought. "It says..."
Flops tilted her head, peering at the sign with a crab wearing a wide cartoonish smile, its happy face etched, pincer cordially waving at the guests.
"Make..."
"Yourself..."
"At..."
"Home..."