The digital clock on the bedside table flickered silently: 01:00 AM.
The Pokémon Center, a hub of chaotic energy during the day, had finally succumbed to the heavy, sterile silence of the night. The only sound in the small, cramped nurse's quarters was the hum of the ventilation system and Kian's own steady, controlled breathing.
He lay on the edge of the single mattress, his back turned to the door, feigning the deep, rhythmic respiration of the dead to the world. But his mind was a live wire, buzzing with anticipation.
Step. Step. Step.
Soft footsteps echoed on the linoleum floor outside. They were heavy, dragging slightly—the gait of a woman who had spent sixteen hours on her feet smiling at strangers.
The handle turned. The lock clicked with a sharp metallic sound that seemed deafening in the quiet.
Kian didn't flinch. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, his body loose.
Nurse Joy entered. The door closed with a soft thud, sealing the world away.
"Mmmph..."
A long, weary groan escaped her lips. It wasn't the polite, professional sound she made at the front desk. It was a raw, human noise of exhaustion. Kian heard the rustle of fabric as she tossed her nurse's cap onto the small desk.
"Finally," she whispered to herself.
Through his eyelids, Kian sensed the shift in the room's energy. She was moving around, her shoes squeaking slightly on the floor. She stretched—he could hear the pop of her joints and the sharp intake of breath as she arched her back, trying to work out the knots of the day.
"I need a shower... no, too tired," she mumbled. "Just sleep."
She walked toward the small ensuite bathroom. The door creaked open, then shut.
Kian cracked one eye open. A sliver of light spilled from under the bathroom door. He heard the sound of a zipper, the soft slide of a uniform hitting the tile floor, and the running of tap water.
Minutes later, the light flicked off.
Joy emerged. The pristine white uniform was gone. In its place, she wore a simple, loose-fitting gray tank top and a pair of short cotton sleep shorts. Her pink hair was down, cascading over her shoulders in messy waves, no longer restrained by the perfect loops of her day job. She looked softer. Younger. Vulnerable.
She didn't even look at Kian—she assumed he was long asleep. She crawled into the empty side of the bed, her body heavy with fatigue. The mattress dipped under her weight. She pulled the duvet up to her chin, let out one last sigh that smelled faintly of mint toothpaste, and within seconds, her breathing evened out into a deep, rhythmic slumber.
Kian waited. One minute. Two minutes.
Once he was sure she was under, he sat up slowly in the dark. The moonlight filtering through the blinds cast stripes of silver across the room.
On the floor, near his boots, the Premier Ball rattled.
Wobble.
It didn't need a command. The seal broke with a hushed hiss, and a soft white light bloomed in the darkness. It coalesced rapidly, forming the elegant, curvaceous silhouette of Gardevoir.
She didn't make a sound. She hovered inches above the floor, her white dress flowing around her like liquid smoke. Her red eyes glowed softly in the dark, fixing instantly on Kian.
"I know you can do this," Kian whispered, his voice barely audible. "I believe in you."
Gardevoir floated closer, her expression serious. She looked at the sleeping woman, then back at her Master.
"Master," she projected her voice directly into his mind to keep the silence absolute. "First, I must ensure she is truly deep in the abyss. The human mind is... fragile. If she wakes during the connection, the backlash could be painful."
She drifted over the bed, hovering directly above Nurse Joy. Gardevoir closed her eyes, her red horn beginning to pulse with a faint, rhythmic luminescence. She extended a slender hand, hovering it inches above Joy's forehead.
Minutes passed. Kian watched, fascinated. He could see the psychic energy rippling the air like heat waves off calm asphalt.
Gardevoir's eyes snapped open.
"She has fallen," Gardevoir confirmed, a hint of excitement coloring her telepathic voice. "Her exhaustion has pulled her deep. Now... I can attempt the Dream Eater."
She hesitated, her hand trembling slightly. "I do not know if it will work the way you desire, Master. Pokémon minds are simple—fight, eat, survive. But a human..."
"Just try," Kian urged, leaning forward, his eyes hungry.
Gardevoir nodded. She closed her eyes again, and this time, the glow intensified. The pink aura around her body expanded, tendrils of psychic light reaching down like roots, seeking purchase in Joy's sleeping consciousness.
"Dream Eater," she whispered.
Suddenly, Gardevoir gasped. Her brow furrowed, sweat beading on her pale forehead. Her body went rigid in the air.
"Gardevoir?" Kian hissed, alarmed. "What happened? Is everything alright?"
"Ma... Master..." Gardevoir's voice was strained, echoing with effort in his head. "Yes... everything is alright. But it is... dense. I am trying to enter her mind, but there is so much noise. Memories of patients, lists of medicine, worry, fatigue... it is like a thick, gray fog. A thinking fog. It resists me. It is trying to push me out."
She grimaced, her fingers curling into claws as if physically digging through the air.
"I have to clear the fog... I have to find the core..."
"Thinking fog?" Kian blinked, dismissing the magical jargon. He didn't care about the metaphysics; he cared about the result. "Whatever it is, I don't care, Gardevoir. Push through it. Break it. I believe in you. You are evolved for this. You belong to me, and so does she."
His words seemed to act as a catalyst. Hearing her Master's command, hearing his belief in her power, Gardevoir's resolve hardened.
"For you..."
The pink aura flared violently. The tension in Gardevoir's face smoothed out. She exhaled a long breath, and the trembling stopped. Her hand lowered, fingertips brushing against Joy's forehead.
A smile—serene and terrifying—bloomed on Gardevoir's lips.
"I am in."
On the bed, Nurse Joy reacted instantly. She let out a soft, high-pitched whimper. Her head turned on the pillow, her legs shifting restlessly under the duvet. Her breathing hitched, becoming faster, shallower.
"The fog is clearing," Gardevoir purred. "I have found the canvas of her dreams. It is blank, Master. Waiting for paint."
She looked at Kian, her red eyes swirling with psychic power.
"Tell me fast, Master. What kind of dream do you want me to craft inside her mind? Do you want fear? Do you want confusion?"
Kian smirked. He looked down at Joy. Her lips were parted now, a flush rising on her chest, visible even in the moonlight. She was completely at their mercy.
"Gardevoir," Kian whispered, the sound thick with desire. "You know exactly what I want."
He reached out, his hand hovering over Joy's body, feeling the heat radiating from her.
"I want you to make her dream about me."
He leaned back, his eyes gleaming.
"And you know exactly what kind of dream. Make it filthy. Make it so real that when she wakes up, she'll be begging for it to continue."
Gardevoir looked from her Master to the sleeping woman. Slowly, her expression mirrored Kian's—a sultry, knowing smile that was entirely too human for a Pokémon.
"As you say, Master," she replied, her voice dripping with obedience.
The pink light from her horn pulsed once, hard, and shot directly into Nurse Joy's mind.
On the bed, Joy arched her back, a moan escaping her lips that had nothing to do with sleep and everything to do with pleasure.