Chapter 607: An Odd Speech
~Third POV~
[Unova Region, Next Day, Accumula Town]
The morning air in Accumula Town carried the crisp, sweet scent of blooming wildflowers and the earthy perfume of dew-soaked grass. Sunlight filtered softly through the rich, verdant canopies of the ancient trees that dotted the Unova countryside, casting long, elegant shadows across the wide, pristine lawns.
It was a picturesque, tranquil scene—the kind of idyllic postcard setting that made rural Unova feel untouched by time. Until yesterday, this peaceful expanse of grassland had been empty. But now, as the morning mist burned away under the climbing sun, Black, Azure, and White stepped out onto the familiar turf to find a monumental transformation. Rising sharply against the natural green horizon was a massive, elaborately constructed wooden stage before them.
Banners of deep, rich purple and stark white draped gracefully from its scaffolding, fluttering softly in the gentle morning breeze. Rows of town residents—farmers, merchants, children, and travelers—were already beginning to gather in a dense semicircle before the structure, drawn by the sudden, inexplicable gravity of the event.
*Thump—Thump—Thump*
The rhythmic, heavy clanking of steel-plated boots shattered the morning quiet. From the treeline flanking the stage, a phalanx of figures marched into view. They wore medieval-style plate armor, heavy cloaks, and conical helmets that obscured their faces, carrying tall banners bearing a strange, intersecting symbol.
Team Plasma had arrived.
Black narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, his hot-blooded impatience immediately flaring up. He muttered loudly, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the assembling crowd, "What's going on here? Weren't these the guys that told us off yesterday, 'Boss'?"
White adjusted the strap of her bag, her sharp business-oriented eyes scanning the theatrical presentation of the guards with critical appraisal. She noted, her tone a mix of suspicion and professional admiration, "They certainly know how to stage an entrance. Though the branding is a bit aggressive for my tastes."
Azure said nothing. His expression was a carefully blank mask, but deep within his mind, gears were turning. Sitting comfortably on his right shoulder, Pikachu gave a soft, inquiring "Pika?" while Eevee, nestled snugly on top of his head, twitched its long ears. Inside Azure's jacket pocket, the Pichu (Mew) shifted restlessly, sensing the strange, heavy atmosphere settling over the town square.
*Bzzzt*
The Arc Phone in Azure's pocket chimed softly with a holographic flicker. Rotom's digital face popped up on the screen, its voice crackling with static, "Warning! Warning! High concentration of localized psychic wavelengths detected in the immediate atmosphere! It's... it's super weird! It's like a subtle mental push, floating right on the edge of human sensory perception!"
Azure didn't need Rotom to tell him. He could feel it.
The air felt thick, heavy with an invisible, hypnotic pressure. It wasn't full-scale mind control—it was much more insidious than that. It was a subtle mental suggestion, woven expertly into the cadence of a speech yet to be given, designed to prime the emotional state of the listeners, making them vulnerable to guilt and doubt.
*Click*
From the shadows of Azure's cloak, a pair of glowing, crimson eyes blinked open. A low, raspy, echoing chuckle vibrated directly into Azure's mind. Gengar's voice purred with wicked amusement, 'Kehehehe... Boss, these mortals are practically vibrating with delicious anxiety. Should I make things a little more... interesting?'
Azure smiled faintly, keeping his face completely neutral so his traveling companions wouldn't notice. He whispered calmly, "Patience, Gengar. Not yet. Let's see how deep this rabbit hole goes first."
On the stage, the heavy boots stopped marching. A tall, pale man with long, flowing green hair and a strange, asymmetrical grey cloak stepped forward into the center of the platform. He leaned into the standing microphone, his piercing yellow eyes sweeping over the quieted crowd.
The man's voice rang out, rich, melodic, and dripping with calculated charisma, "Citizens of Accumula Town… My name is Ghetsis. I have come before you today on a most solemn mission...!"
The crowd murmured. A woman near the front whispered, clutching her shopping basket tightly, "Who are they?"
Someone else muttered back, "Team Plasma. I heard they were preaching about Pokémon rights over in the next district."
Ghetsis raised a gloved hand, commanding absolute silence. He continued, his voice swelling with theatrical passion, "I ask you today to consider a fundamental truth. We, humans, live alongside Pokémon. They assist us in our daily lives, and we aid them in theirs. We call them partners. We call them friends. But I ask you citizens... has anyone here ever truly questioned the baseline assumption of this so-called symbiotic relationship?"
The mental pressure in the air spiked subtly. Azure felt a microscopic twitch in the minds of the people around him.
A collective ripple of uncertainty washed over the crowd. Ghetsis proclaimed, his voice rising, growing more accusing with every syllable, "You order your Pokémon to battle. You command them to use moves, to endure pain, to fight for your glory! But in effect... do you not force them to work for your own selfish desires?"
Black frowned, his brow furrowing deeply. He muttered, his fiery nature bristling at the bizarre accusations, "What is this guy talking about? My Tep fights because we want to win the League together! It's a team effort!"
Beside him, White watched nervously as the expressions of the surrounding townspeople began to shift. The warm, affectionate smiles they usually wore when looking at their partner Pokémon curdled into uneasy, furrowed frowns.
Ghetsis challenged, leaning forward over the podium, locking eyes with the front rows, "Tell me. Do you remember the last time you looked into your Pokémon's eyes when you gave them an order? Did you see joy? Or did you see compliance born of fear? Pokémon are not tools! They are not possessions for humans to exploit! To achieve true harmony, we must liberate our Pokémon! We must make them our equals!"
Ghetsis swept his arms wide, his voice dropping to a pleading, dramatic whisper, "I beg of you... reconsider your relationships with your Pokémon. Set them free. Think of their happiness and feelings!"
With a dramatic flourish, Ghetsis turned on his heel. He commanded, before walking off the stage, "Think upon my words!"
The wall of medieval knights immediately fell into formation behind him, their heavy armor clanking in unison as they escorted their leader away into the treeline. For a long, agonizing moment, total silence gripped Accumula Town.
Then, the psychological dam broke.
An older merchant spat, turning away with a scoff, "A load of absolute nonsense. I've raised my Herdier since he was a pup. We're family!"
A young woman murmured, looking down at the Patrat sitting near her feet with sudden, unwarranted guilt, "Are we... are we exploiting them?"
The subtle psychic residue left behind by Ghetsis's speech lingered heavily, acting as an emotional amplifier for the seeds of doubt he had just planted. The mood of the crowd plummeted, shifting rapidly from curiosity to crushing existential dread.
*Sob*
A sharp, heartbreaking sound cut through the murmurs. Azure turned his head slightly to see a young boy standing near the edge of the square, tears streaming uncontrollably down his flushed cheeks.
The boy sobbed, clutching his chest, "Mommy... Is it... is it okay if I release my Petilil? I don't want to make her work anymore..."
His mother knelt beside him, looking distressed, though her voice carried a firm, grounding tone as she said, "Now, honey, stop that. You and Petilil eat together, play together, and sleep in the same room. We aren't doing anything wrong. Come on, let's go into town and get some groceries; you'll feel better."
But the psychological contagion was spreading too fast.
*Thud*
Suddenly, an elderly man standing just a few feet away from White dropped heavily to his knees, his hands clutching his head as if experiencing a sudden, violent migraine. White gasped, stepping forward instinctively, her professional composure cracking as alarm took over, "Sir! Are you alright? What's wrong?"
The old man looked up, his eyes wide, brimming with profound grief and self-loathing. He choked out, his voice trembling violently, "What have I been doing all these years? I've been holding Pokémon... making them do things against their will! I've been a tyrant! I've made them so unhappy!"
White tried to comfort him, reaching out a hand, but the old man shoved himself up and stumbled away, muttering apologies, "Please, calm down, it's just a speech—"
*POP*
Black's jaw dropped as he looked to his left. A few yards away, another young man was kneeling on the grass, holding a small Poké Ball in shaking hands, bidding a tearful, agonizing farewell to his Ferroseed. The metallic Pokémon beeped sadly, its vines drooping as it was recalled into a sphere and set gently onto the grass.
Across the entire grassland, the horrifying scene repeated itself. Trainers were crying, apologizing to their companions, opening Poké Balls, and watching in shattered despair as their beloved partners blinked in confusion, wandering off into the wild because their humans had been mentally manipulated into abandoning them.
Azure stood completely still, his jaw tight.
A cold, dark frown carved deep lines into his face.
Azure thought bitterly, his psychic senses tracking the fading, insidious waves of mental suggestion still washing over the panicked crowd, 'I knew it. They were tricked like idiots playing into that tyrant's hands. Ghetsis used subtle psychic conditioning, wrapping fascist propaganda in a neat little package of faux-empathy. It's disgusting. He manipulated their emotions, weaponized their conscience against them, and ruined innocent lives just to build an army of followers.'
Azure's eyes flashed with a dangerous, icy light as he thought bitterly, 'Sure, it was a subtle psychic wave, not full-on brainwashing... but it's close enough. Legally? I can't just walk up and blast him into the next region without hard evidence of direct mind-control. The Pokémon League and the Unova police would brand me as the villain if I attacked an unarmed political speaker without absolute proof.'
He watched as another trainer tearfully let a Blitzle run off into the woods. The sheer injustice of the manipulation—the petty, cruel psychological warfare waged against simple, honest people—made Azure's blood boil.
A dark, deeply mischievous thought sparked in the back of his mind.
A brilliant, delightfully petty idea.
Azure closed his eyes, sliding his consciousness inward, directly tapping into the shadowy abyss resting within his own soul. Azure spoke telepathically, cutting sharply through the ethereal plane, 'Gengar…'
A sudden chill swept over the grass around Azure's feet. From the shadow cast by his boots, two glowing yellow eyes materialized in the darkness.
Gengar's voice echoed directly inside Azure's mind, dripping with anticipatory glee, 'Yes, Boss? Did you see those pompous medieval cosplayers strutting around like they own the region? Are we finally going to hex them?'
Azure's thoughts replied, a dark, wicked smirk ghosting across his lips, 'Better. I'm giving you free rein. Go hunt down Ghetsis. Give him a taste of absolute, unadulterated humiliation. No permanent damage, but make sure they never forget today. In fact… make sure the world doesn't forget it.'
Gengar paused for a fraction of a second, as if processing the sheer, beautiful magnitude of the command. Then, a mental burst of psychotic, echoing laughter ricocheted through Azure's head, 'Kehehehe! OH, BOSS, YOU'RE A SAINT! Consider it done! That poor bastard won't know what hit 'em!'
*Swooosh*
Before a single physical movement could be perceived, the shadow beneath Azure's feet rippled violently. With a silent, fluid motion, the shiny, pale-violet ghost slipped effortlessly out of his shadow, diving instantly into the long grass, leaping seamlessly from shadow to shadow with absolute stealth.
Not a single civilian, nor a single member of Team Plasma's rear guard, noticed the silent phantom vanishing into the treeline. Suddenly, a deep, resonant voice echoed directly into the corners of Azure's mind, carrying a solemn, amused weight, 'Sending a wild, sadistic shadow-demon after a bunch of preachy cultists? That is remarkably evil, even for you, Master.'
Azure chuckled mentally, shifting his stance. He replied mentally with his telepathy to his Darkrai, 'True, Darkrai. But they offended me. And honestly? I'm feeling extraordinarily petty today.'
From the depths of his shadow, the mythical Pitch-Black Pokémon manifested its voice within Azure's consciousness, a low, rumbling chuckle vibrating through his thoughts, 'Petty is an art form, boy. Shall I join the little ghost? I could weave a few delightful nightmares into their little medieval procession to make the lesson stick.'
Azure's internal chuckle turned cold as he watched yet another heartbroken trainer their retreating Pokémon. His frown deepened, the righteous fury in his chest solidifying into an unbreakable vow.
Azure's eyes narrowed as he stared toward the distant treeline where Ghetsis and his knights had disappeared. He replied mentally, 'Not yet, Darkrai. Let Gengar play first. But keep watch...'
His eyes gazed at the Trainers releasing their Pokémon and their sad expressions. His fist clenched tightly as he thought, genuinely angry, 'Because Team Plasma... they have officially, irrevocably pissed me off.'
"Hey! Wait! Are you out of your mind?!"
The sharp, panicked shout cut through Azure's stupor. Black, his cap pulled low over a brow furrowed into deep canyons of disbelief, pointed a trembling finger at a middle-aged Biker. The man was staring down at a wide-eyed Ducklett, whose webbed feet shuffled nervously against the cobblestones.
Just a few yards away, another Biker stood paralyzed, having just cast off his own long-time partner.
*Thump—thump*
The first Biker stammered, his knuckles white as he clutched the handlebars of his idle motorcycle, "I... I don't know, man… He said we've been keeping them prisoners. That we're holding them back from their true potential."
Black demanded, his voice cracking with hot-blooded indignation, "How long have you had that Ducklett?!"
He took a heavy step forward, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles clicked. The Biker muttered, not meeting the bird Pokémon's devastated gaze, "10 years…"
Black roared, the sheer volume of his voice making Pikachu—perched securely on Azure's shoulder—twitch its long ears in mild annoyance as he exclaimed in a heated tone, "10 years! And you're just dropping it like a bad habit because some guy in a funny coat told you to?! That's your friend!"
The Biker snapped, though his voice lacked conviction, hollowed out by the lingering psychic resonance of Ghetsis' speech that still rippled through the townsfolk's minds, "Mind your own business, kid! I'm... I'm doing what's best for it. Like I've always thought I was doing..."
With that, he turned his back, kicked his bike into gear, and sped off, leaving the shivering Ducklett behind. Not far away, a young woman was kneeling before a crestfallen Whimsicott, her voice trembling as she whispered a choked goodbye, patting its cotton-puff head before running off toward the residential district.
Azure stood a few paces back, his sharp eyes taking in the scene with a quiet, seasoned gravity. He recognized mass psychological manipulation when he saw it. But seeing everyday people—people who had shared hearth and home with their partners—discard them like broken tools left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Mincciiii…"
A soft, mournful whimper drew his attention.
An Ace Trainer stood near the edge of the fountain, her posture rigid as she stared down at her Minccino. The small, gray-furred Pokémon looked up with wide, tear-rimmed eyes, its tail drooping limply against the stone.
The Ace Trainer whispered, her voice tight, "I'm sorry. I... I didn't think I'd be forcing you into battles. You deserve to be free."
The little chinchilla Pokémon let out a heartbreaking, questioning squeak, reaching out a tiny paw, "Min...?"
Azure stepped forward, his voice a low, steady baritone that cut through the girl's frantic rationalizations, "Hey. Is what you're doing right now actually for her? Or are you just running away because that man on the stage made you feel guilty for loving your Pokémon?"
The Ace Trainer flinched, her face flushing crimson. She barked, turning on her heel and marching off into the crowd, leaving the Minccino completely isolated on the cold stone, "Mind your own business! I'm doing what's best for my Pokémon!"
Azure gently lowered himself onto one knee, bringing his eyes level with the abandoned Minccino. Her head hung low, her small body trembling not from the morning chill, but from the crushing weight of rejection.
Azure said softly, his hand extending to gently stroke the soft fur between her long ears, "Hey there…"
Minccino flinched, then leaned instinctively into the warm, comforting touch. Azure continued, "If you're looking for a home... I'm always taking new team members. My friends and I have plenty of room, and we don't abandon family."
Minccino's ears twitched. She lifted her head, looking up into Azure's calm, reassuring grey eyes. For a moment, there was hesitation—the lingering ghost of fear that this hand, too, might pull away. But looking around at the empty square, at the indifference of the crowd, she realized the truth…
She had nowhere else to go. No family left.
With a soft, trembling sniff, Minccino let out a tiny, affirmative cry, "Chri..."
A faint smile touched Azure's lips as he retrieved an empty Poké Ball from his belt. He didn't even need to toss it; Minccino gently tapped her forehead against the cool metallic button, letting herself be drawn inside in a flash of red light.
*Click*
Azure sighed, grasping Minccino's Poké Ball in hand. He checked his newest Pokémon's status and info…
[Minccino the Chinchilla Pokémon. The tail is also long and particularly furry. This tail acts like a broom or mop, as Minccino uses it to clean its den.
The way it uses the tail to clean can be helpful when cleaning, but this Pokémon's focus on a clean environment can make cleaning more of a hassle. Minccino also uses the tail to brush others of its species as a form of greeting; in a pair greeting, the one with the fluffier tail will be more prideful.
It has a fondness for shiny objects, and it is obsessed with cleaning dirty items. Minccino always keeps its tail clean; when it gets dirty, Minccino will wash it in clean spring water. It prefers clean habitats.]
|Name: Minccino (Chinchilla Pokémon)
|Type: Normal
|Tera: Normal
|Level: 20
|Gender: Female
|Held Item: None
|Ability: Technician
|Nature: Jolly
|Moves: Protect, Growl, Helping Hand, Tickle, Encore, Baby-Doll Eyes, Sing, Charm, Attract, Pound, Double-Slap, Swift, Echoed Voice, Tidy Up (EM) (2 moves left to learn)
Azure stood up, catching the ball and slipping it into his pocket with a frown. Rotom's voice buzzed quietly from the Arc Phone in his pocket, its screen flickering with sympathetic pixel-eyes, "She's terrified, Azure… Bzzzt! That's terrible! Nobody treats a Minccino like that!"
Azure thought back, making a firm mental note as he replied aloud, "I know, Rotom. Once we find a quiet spot, I'm going to cook up some sweet Poké Puffs and spend the afternoon playing with her."
"Black! Wait up!"
Azure snapped out of his thoughts as White's voice rang out. The energetic girl was jogging over, her face flushed with exasperation.
Black, meanwhile, was already scanning the plaza like a hound picking up a scent. He demanded of no one, his eyes darting toward the winding, cobblestone paths of the residential area, "Where did they go? Those people who made the speech! They're still around here somewhere!"
White grabbed his wrist, panting slightly as she exclaimed, informing him in an alarmed tone, "Black, stop! Those people were just... they were just stating their opinion! You can't just go chasing after them!"
Black wrenched his arm free, his face hot with righteous fury, and exclaimed, "Stating their opinion?! Did you see that Ducklett? Did you see that Whimsicott?! They were devastated! How can anyone preach about the 'good of Pokémon' while making actual Pokémon cry?! I don't get it! I can't stand people who hide behind fancy words to hurt others!"
*Buzzz*
Before White could retort, her Xtransceiver shrilled loudly, cutting through the tense air. Seizing the moment of distraction, Black bolted toward the residential district. White shouted, watching him disappear around a corner of a timber-framed house, "Hey! Come back here!"
Azure called out, breaking into a steady jog to keep the hot-blooded Trainer in sight, Pikachu clinging securely to his shoulder like a living scarf while Eevee balanced expertly on his head, paws tucked in for stability, "I'll go with him!"
Groaning in frustration, White answered her Xtransceiver. She answered, "BW Agency, White speaking! Look, can this wait—?!"
The voice of the film director boomed through the speaker, frantic and breathless, "Miss White!" "We have a sudden opening in the afternoon slot! We need three more Pokémon actors for the drama scene by the river! Can you supply—?"
White snapped, hastily ending the call. She shoved the device back into her bag and screamed toward the distant alleys, "Director, please, I am in the middle of a—just call me back in ten minutes! Boys! Get back here this instant!"
Silence answered her.
The alleys swallowed their sounds. Muttering colorful complaints under her breath, White hurried after them, her heels clicking a staccato rhythm against the stone.
/////
A/N: Hope you like the chapter!