Chapter Eight
We emerged from the tunnels as quickly as we could follow the Zubat out, but the heat of Club's fire attacks still licked our heels. Looking towards the sun lazily lifting off from the horizon on its daily quest across the sky, there was a moment when it seemed like everything was alright. We had emerged from the dank caves under Mount Moon onto a rocky outcropping of sheer cliff overlooking a rushing river below. Across a narrow bridge of stone worn by the steady erosion of time lay a vast field of grass and flowers that sparkled with the morning dew and interrupted only by a brook that bisected the greenery. The water continued on a gentle journey towards a city that undoubtedly was miles away, but seemed closer due to our vantage point and the general flatness of the landscape before us.

For a moment it seemed like everything was okay. But then I grabbed Mew's pink-furred arm and began leading her to the rocky passage from the cold, grey mountain to the emerald countryside beyond.

The illusion was shattered when I noticed a noise echoing from the inside of the cave. Slowing to a stop, I turned my head back towards the entrance, black-tipped ears perking up and swiveling along with my gaze. It was a droning noise, magnified in decibel by the soundwaves bouncing off of the walls of the tunnel to the surface. By the time I realized what the noise was, it was too late.

I tugged Mew harder and attempted to yell out that we had to run, but my words were swallowed by the cacophony of sound as Scimitar the Scyther burst from the exit of Mount Moon, followed shortly by a gout of flame that roared after her and sent the Spearow looking for food in the fields to take off in a great consternation of cawing and flapping wings.

The mantis-like Pokémon shot clean over my and Mew's heads, the compact folding of her limbs and wings to enable passage through the narrow tunnels undone as she revealed her blades in their full glory to land on the bridge, cutting us off from any escape by that route. My eyes met hers, but while mine narrowed as I started to charge the electric pouches in my cheeks, hers danced merrily, a smile tugging the corners of her cruel mouth.

Her scythe-like appendages were folded across her chest, but I knew that any attempt to breech her blockade would mean getting cut to pieces in the blink of an eye. Mew seemed to realize this too, and her paw relaxed in my grip. For whatever reason, Scimitar wasn't attacking us in a whirling dervish of blades. Instead, the green Pokémon was simply standing there, the only motion being a flicker of her eye behind the red glass of the device affixed to the left side of her head as some text scrolled across it. Once the message had vanished, the Scyther spoke. "The others will be here shortly. I've been instructed to hold you here until they can arrive," Scimitar said curtly. Another gout of flame, larger this time, erupted from the cave's entrance as if to punctuate her point about Club and Blackjack working their way out of the caves.

I was not feeling predisposed to waiting around, so I asked, "And what if we decide to jump and risk out chances with the rapids below?"

The Scyther looked at me, then grinned, revealing a mouth full of sharp, reptilian teeth. "If you were stupid enough to try that, I would join you for the descent and reduce the both of you to cubes of flesh before you ever got the chance to be dashed on the rocks," she said. Scimitar shifted her feet a bit. "Don't get me wrong, I would be delighted to do so, but it would seem like such a waste to our employer."

That last word caught my attention, but before I could investigate further. Another blast of fire came from the now much wider opening of Mount Moon, followed by the emergence of Club the Snorlax and Blackjack the Hitmonchan from the gash in the rock. The Hitmonchan removed his eyepiece, wiped the steam off of the red glass, and then replaced it. "So nice of you to join us," he said, opening his arms wide as he did so.

"What do you want from me?" Mew asked, her attempts to fortify her voice with the same authority she had enjoyed with Stoneheart undermined by the constant shivering of her body.

"That's for us to know and you to find out," Blackjack responded with a smile at the smaller Pokémon's evident terror.

Some surge of protective instinct surged in me and I squeezed Mew's paw in what I hoped was reassurance and said, "We already know you're working for someone else. Who is it?"

At that, the Hitmonchan's cocky eyes hardened and he shot a glare at Scimitar. "You let something like that slip out? I expect such carelessness from Club, but not from you."

"Hey, what is that supposed to mean?" the Snorlax in question asked.

"What does it matter?" Scimitar asked, ignoring Club's question and massive bulk entirely. "We have the Mew. Our job's just about done."

"It's about professionalism, you stupid sadist," Blackjack said, his voice dripping with contempt. "We're what's left, the nucleus of what is to come. How long do you think that's going to last if you make all of us look like rank amateurs?"

"You tell me, oh-mighty-leader," the green Pokémon snapped. "Instead of capturing or killing the Pikachu who was obviously working with the Mew, you decided we should burn down an entire forest! How's that for professionalism?"

"Enough!" Blackjack roared. My eyes, which had been darting back and forth between the two arguing villains zipped back to the tan Pokémon. "This is something we can discuss later, for now let's just deal with what's on our plate."

Club chipped in again, "Speaking of plates, what are we going to do with the Pikachu? The boss didn't say anything about a Pikachu, so we can do whatever with it, right?"

The Punching Pokémon arched an eyebrow at this. "That's a good point, Club, but I think that I should be the one to handle the little rodent." He shot a glance at Scimitar. "That way I can fix my own mistake and someone else's."

"Oh, shut up and get it over with," the Mantis Pokémon spat.

"Wait, I thought I had dibs on the Pikachu!"

"This is personal, Club," Blackjack said, "but don't worry – you dispose of what's left when I'm finished."

The Snorlax sat down in a huff, causing the cliff to shake and muttering to himself, "I didn't want leftovers."

I turned my attention to my opponent. Releasing Mew's paw, I stepped between her and Blackjack, sizing the Hitmonchan up. He was many times my size, with a corresponding longer reach and stride. Combined with the hindrances to my mobility caused by our narrow arena of cliff, this could be deadly. I couldn't recall how fast a Hitmonchan was supposed to be able to punch, but I was sure that the species was known for lightning strikes as opposed to generally more plodding movement of other Fighting-type Pokémon. I was not sure how much of my past battling experience would be applicable. We were not fighting for any tournament trophy, gym badge, or even our trainer's approval. I was fighting for my life, which meant that nothing was off the table. I curled my paws into fists and began charging my red cheeks with electricity.

No sooner had the first spark danced across my face than the first of Blackjack's blows slammed into my face. His red gloves were almost the size of my head, so it felt like a ton of bricks hitting me. I dropped to my knees and gingerly ran my paw over the rapidly swelling area of my cheek. Then I looked up and saw the tan-colored Pokémon looming over me and grinning. Two realizations sprung to my mind in that moment. The first was that he was not going to grant me a quick death, but rather prolong it for his and his companions' amusement. The second was that if there was no way to save Mew, then the least I could do would be to wipe that smile off of his face.

I pushed off the ground and began to rise to my feet, charging up for an electric attack that was sure to take the spring out of my opponent's step. But before I could unleash the accumulated voltage, a heavy, double-handed blow to the back of my skull sent me down again, my reserves of electricity dissipating into the air as the shock of the attack made me lose the concentration required for gathering and storing a large amount of charge. The back of my head tingled a bit, and I knew why. Blackjack had charged up his fists with his own electricity. This latest round of taunting only increased my desire to survive.

Instead of working towards a massive outpouring of electricity, I decided to opt for smaller blows to attempt to throw the Hitmonchan off-guard. As soon as my cheeks began to hum with energy, I released it, resulting in several low-voltage shocks that raced through the air toward my tan assailant. As I had hoped, he shifted his concentration away from me and toward batting the weak electric bursts away with his heavy red gloves. This gave me the chance to finally get back on my feet. As soon as Blackjack had finished deflecting my attacks and turned his attention back to me, I held my paw out in a rude gesture I had learned from humans. He quickly launched a devastating blow towards me, but I had been just launching into a leap while flipping the Hitmonchan off, so his punch blazed past my feet to leave a heavy impact crater in the rock below. I smiled to myself. All the speed in the world meant nothing if one could not think as fast as they could attack.

Satisfied with myself, I began to charge up with electricity again, savoring the crackle in the air and the feeling of colored sparks racing around my body. It had been so long since I had ever been in a fight of any magnitude close to this, and I was actually enjoying the feeling of combat after so long. That was until Blackjack launched a savage uppercut that caught me mid-air and sent me flying, my charged energy once again dissipating from my body.

I hit the ground hard and grimaced in pain as I checked to make sure that all of my limbs were still working. My head lay heavy on the rocky ground, but when I saw Mew's face, it hurt far more than any of Blackjack's attacks. Her blue eyes were glistening with tears, but underneath the concern there was a distance, a kind of pity for the mere mortal who was getting knocked around in order to protect her. Why should she need protection anyway? What was so scary about these Pokémon? I flipped onto my stomach, grunting at the hurt caused by my bones shifting during the motion. Before I could get up for another round, one of Blackjack's purple clad feet landed in front of my head. "Give up, Pikachu," he said, "you've lost."

"You think you've won?" I asked, trying to sound tough despite my position.

"We have Mew and are about to tie up the last loose end, so I would say so."

I laughed bitterly at that. "How about granting a dying Pokémon a last request?"

Blackjack crouched down at this, his face close enough that I could spit on him. I didn't, although I wanted to. "And what would that be?"

"Just a single question, to give me some closure."

"Go on."

"Mew said that you three have been following her for across oceans, mountains, forests, you name it. How have you been able to track her so well?" I asked. "None of you look like a Growlithe to me."

"I suppose there's no harm in telling a dead Pokémon," Blackjack said. The Hitmonchan smiled and tapped the eyepiece on the left side of his head. "This device lets us track outpourings of psychic energy. Because the Mew is so powerful, it is constantly giving off a unique psychic signature that we can roughly track. But if we want more precise coordinates, then all we have to do is wait for the Mew to utilize its psychic powers, whether telepathy or telekinesis, and the resulting spike tells us right where it is."

I took in all of this information, but my attention was split between biding my time and attempting a technique that my trainer had taught me a long time ago. By using my charged electricity to stimulate my muscles instead of creating a reservoir of power to attack with, I had been able to dramatically increase my speed. At the price of pushing my body to its limits, I might be able to salvage something from the jaws of defeat. "So, those devices were the key to finding her," I said, attempting to sound weary. I was alarmed at how easy it was.

"Exactly."

"Then let's make it more challenging," I said as I leaped toward Blackjack's face. He attempted to cut me off with a punch, but I could actually see it coming and managed to rotate around the incoming fist to grab the device on the Punching Pokémon's face. Then, I released a series of short, sharp electric bursts. A series of frantic beeps emitted from the small machine and were accompanied by smoke. Blackjack swept me off of his tan face with a heavy motion of his right arm while his left ripped the device off from his eye and threw it away, just before it exploded in a shower of fragments of white plastic, circuits, and red glass. As I hit the ground again, I yelled, "Mew! Run!" I barely heard myself though over the pounding of my head from the exertion of my last-ditch maneuver and the damage I had taken during the fight.

"That's enough!" Blackjack roared as he stepped over me to deliver the killing blow.

"I agree," said another voice. I turned towards the source of the noise, which seemed to be everywhere at once, and found myself staring at Mew. Only it wasn't the Mew that I had come to know. Instead of a face bright with excitement or darkened by worry, her face was expressionless. Her eyes were glowing a harsh, radiant pink as they had when she had used her psychic powers in the past, but this time she was also surrounded by what I can only call an aura of swirling pink energy that swarmed around her like a bubble of fireworks, each one bursting and cracking as it reached its zenith only to be replaced by three more.

Before I could try to talk to Mew, I felt myself begin to slip into the blackness of unconsciousness, my descent lit only by the pink light of psychic power that had burned itself into my retinas.