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ingoinghost · 2 years

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Submas - “all your base are belong to us” - Part One.

Emmet is on lunch break when a humanoid shape clad in a tattered black coat materialises out of nothing and falls face down from the cafeteria ceiling to the tiled floor below with a loud thump.

The three other staff members present startle at the sudden disturbance. Yet Emmet is the only one to actually leap to his feet, knocking his lunch over and spilling dark red sauce all over his sleeves.

"Boss?" Cameron asks nervously.

"What the fuck was that?" Isadore shouts, backing up from the crumpled heap in heated suspicion.

"Master Emmet," Cloud cautions, but Emmet waves her off.

He only has eyes for the oddly familiar person slowly starting to stir on the cafeteria floor.

Emmet kneels next to the person. He extends a hand curiously. To help. To check.

Is this - ?

"Hello? ...Sir? Are you alright?"

The man brings one hand to his temple, pushing up his ripped black hat as he grimaces at what must no doubt be a terrible headache. With the other hand against the floor, he pushes himself up and squints at Emmet.

Emmet's brain freezes.

"What - "

Ingo's(?) eyes are comically wide.

"You... look like me..."

Emmet swallows uncomfortably.

"I am dreaming. One of you, slap me in the face."

"On it, Boss," Isadore says distantly, already rolling up his sleeves.

"No," Cloud says flatly, rolling Isadore's sleeves back down.

"Isn't anyone going to say anything?" Cameron asks incredulously.

"Shut up, Cameron."

Ingo(??) stares and stares and stares. Emmet stares back. Some switch seems to flip between them, and Ingo breaks first.

"Emmet!"

The gathered depot agents can only stare in speechless shock as Subway Master Ingo, missing and presumed dead for over five years, lurches upward and forward to wrap his arms around Subway Master Emmet, burying his head in the crook of Emmet's shoulder and sobbing loudly.

"Emmet! I am so sorry!"

"Ingo?!"

"What the fuck," Isadore says again, and Cloud elbows him with a glare.

"You all suck," Cameron complains matter-of-factly.

Emmet numbly pats Ingo's back. Ingo is here. In Emmet's arms. On the cafeteria floor.

What.

When Ingo first disappeared, Emmet was a wreck. He didn't eat, didn't sleep. Didn't do much other than scour the subway tunnels that took his brother, followed by scouring the city, then the region, then the world. Emmet became very well-travelled and very well-known.

The only thing keeping him from derailing completely was the constant support from his Pokémon.

Their Pokémon.

Chandelure knew as well as he did that Ingo would not just up and leave them like that. Perhaps it knew that even better than Emmet did, since Chandelure was a ghost-type Pokémon that could recognize souls, whether they be stationed or departed.

Chandelure could not recognise Ingo's soul.

And that... hurt.

But that had meant there was hope. Right? There was hope. Ingo had not been taken to the afterlife, he was just... taken. Presumably.

Chandelure was there when Ingo was snatched away, however hidden in its Poké Ball. It was there when Ingo's scattered belongings were found. It was there when the police released a statement. It was there when Gear Station announced the closure of the Battle Subway indefinitely. It was there when Emmet nearly lost his mind searching.

Always searching.

So their Pokémon held an intervention.

Oh, and Uncle Drayden and their best friend Elesa. They were there too.

They were there too when all of Emmet's efforts came up with nothing. They dragged him back home kicking and screaming. They forced him to look after himself. They made him stop searching.

But they could never stop him from believing.

Emmet has fallen apart and searched and and grieved and lost and never found. Emmet has mourned and gone to therapy and adapted to a new routine and believed and believed and believed. It has been five long, long years, and Emmet has slowly but surely learned how to live without his brother and without ever telling a single. Damned. Soul. That he still believes Ingo is out there.

It's been exhausting.

And now Ingo is back and Emmet could never have been less prepared.

Ingo is older and wearier. He has a beard. He is wearing boots and an odd pink hoodie beneath his tattered coat. Archaic wooden jewelry adorns his wrist in place of his Xtransciever.

Ingo is here. On the cafeteria floor. Holding onto Emmet like his life depends on it. Maybe it does.

Five years is a long time for nightmares to spread out and become fewer and farther between. Yet, they still happen on occasion. Emmet has learned to live with that too.

He can't live with that now.

If this is a dream, then Emmet waking up will kill Ingo. If Emmet is dreaming, then this version of Ingo is as good as dead as the real Ingo has long since been declared to be. This version of Ingo is dead and gone and currently bawling his eyes out.

No version of Ingo should ever have to cry for what will ultimately be nothing. Emmet has never liked hearing his brother cry.

Emmet bunches up the back of the tattered back coat in his fists.

This is real, right? It has to be real. He's pretty sure his brain wouldn't cook up Ingo's bizarre new appearance. Or make him fall from the cafeteria ceiling. Emmet is surrounded by his coworkers, and he's never been anything but alone when he finds Ingo.

And Ingo is never the one to find Emmet.

Because when Emmet dreams, no matter how much Emmet believes, Ingo is always, irreversibly, dead.

Emmet is so sick and tired of Ingo being dead.

Ingo pulls back, wiping at his eyes. He doesn't seem to realise he's being watched, if his lack of acknowledgement for the depot agents is anything to go by. Or maybe he just doesn't care, for he cups the sides of Emmet's face and looks him over, heartbroken and so agonisingly guilty.

"I never meant to leave you. I found my way back on track as soon as I could. I would never decouple from you on purpose. We are a two-car train. You know that, right?"

Ingo's bare (calloused? Scarred!??) hands are squishing Emmet's cheeks up like Emmet is some kind of Patrat. It's embarrassing yet achingly familiar.

"Uh. Yes?" Emmet says.

Ingo slumps with relief. He leans forward, forehead pressing into Emmet's chest. Hunched shoulders curl awkwardly as Ingo's spine bends in a way it's not supposed to.

"Thank you," Ingo hiccups painfully. He sniffles, loudly, again. "Thank you, Mighty Palkia, for your benevolent guidance through Space."

"Who?" Emmet asks.

"Boss," Cloud says gently, tugging lightly on Emmet's collar to get his attention. "Perhaps you should take him to a hospital."

"A hospital," Emmet repeats. He smiles tightly. Then he feels his eyes widen and he slaps a hand to his forehead at his own stupidity. "Oh shit, a hospital! Oh yes! Right!"

Cloud rears back for her own safety as Emmet stands abruptly, pulling Ingo up with him as he moves, quick and as sudden as the closing doors.

"Everyone! Ingo and I are departing for the Nimbasa Central Hospital now! Please inform all patrons that the double battle lines are to be temporarily closed for an indeterminate future! Thank you!"

Ingo yelps as he is swept up off his feet and into his brother's steady grasp, instinctively wrapping his arms around Emmet's neck and holding on for dear life. His eerily distant gaze lands on the agents, and his face falls in confusion as he finally takes them in.

"Who are you?"

The cafeteria door slams shut behind Emmet, drowning the voices of the depot agents out. It does nothing to deafen the sound of Emmet's racing heartbeat.

What the fuck does that mean?

Ingo's mortified yelling right next to his ear stops him from outright panicking.

"Emmet! I must insist this is unnecessary! I can walk!"

Oh, how Emmet has missed this - Ingo's mortification, not Ingo yelling right next to his ear.

Unless it was Sleepytime Junction.

Maybe.

"Maybe," Emmet allows. He grins. "But you just fell face first through reality onto the floor from the cafeteria ceiling! The ceiling!! I doubt you can run!"

"You would be surprised!" Ingo begins, but then Emmet busts open the door into the main atrium of Gear Station, and Ingo cries out in pain.

It's as if a bullet train collides with the platform at top speed. Emmet's heart seizes with the sudden transference of kinetic energy with nowhere to go but himself.

"Ingo?"

Ingo doesn't reply.

Emmet hits the metaphorical brakes with all the grace of performing an emergency stop. White dress shoes squeak horribly as he skids across the linoleum floor. Tentatively, with his heart in his mouth, Emmet shifts his hold just slightly to bring his left hand up to touch his brother's hair, long and unkempt beneath the black conductor's hat.

Ingo whimpers like a wounded animal where his head is thrown over Emmet's shoulder, angled down and away, away from the atrium and away from sight. Ingo shakes, his breath hitching, his shoulders hunching, and Emmet gets the impression his eyes are squeezed shut.

It hits Emmet, then, that Ingo has become unhealthily light.

The realisation is overwhelming. Emmet staggers and has to brace himself against the wall.

Ingo's arms tighten around Emmet's neck as he presses himself impossibly closer, unconsciously seeking shelter, and Emmet winces when he feels the extent of Ingo's weight loss: all sharp edges and pointed corners and protruding bones.

"Ingo," Emmet says softly. He cards his gloved fingers through Ingo's wild hair in what he hopes is still a soothing gesture. "Are you injured? No, don't shake your head. You have to tell me what's wrong. Please. Where and how are you hurt?"

Ingo shakes his head despite being told not to. Emmet wishes he could see Ingo's face.

"Not hurt," Ingo rasps, voice rough in a way it never used to be. He presses his face against the back of Emmet's head, knocking the white conductor's hat aside. "Too loud. Bright. Buzzing. Make it stop."

Oh. Emmet understands this all too well. Though the twins became used to Gear Station's level of activity not long after moving to Nimbasa, Emmet has no idea where Ingo has been for the last five years he has been missing, nor what he could have gone through in that time to trigger such a reaction. Sensory overload makes sense, Emmet thinks, and his eyes crinkle with sympathy.

"Okay. I can handle that."

Ingo is silent. Emmet readjusts his hold and resumes moving.

There are plenty of people milling around the atrium to make weaving through the crowd a nuisance. Commuters and challengers alike stare openly as Subway Master Emmet storms across the station, murder in his eyes and a ghost in his arms.

Their gazes make Ingo tremble and Emmet smile from ear to ear with a strained expression that is more akin to a snarl.

"Out of the way, please," Emmet requests tersely. He supports Ingo with one arm across his back to reach for Eelektross' Poké Ball. "I am Emmet. I am a Subway Master. I have somewhere to be."

The commuters and challengers part like Landorus' fissure over Unova's great eastern sea. The tourists and paparazzi, however, do not.

Reshiram's Oath, damn it. Of all the days, why are they here?

A chorus of voices starts to rise. They creep closer, overstepping their boundaries, asking questions for which they won't leave without answers. In the brilliant red and gold haze of Gear Station's atmosphere, Emmet swears human faces contort like the insidious shadows of Darkrai's very nightmares.

"What is Subway Master Emmet doing here? Isn't he supposed to be running the doubles line right now?"

"What is he carrying? Is that a person?"

"Is that Subway Master Ingo?"

"Wasn't he supposed to be dead?"

"I thought he ran away."

“I thought Emmet murdered him.”

"Mr. Emmet! Do you have anything to say regarding the reappearance of Mr. Ingo?"

Ingo makes a strangled noise somewhere between suffocation and a terrified sob.

If this is a dream, Emmet is going to make it end in blood.

Sorry, Elesa. Sorry, Uncle Drayden, Emmet thinks regretfully. He unclips Eelektross' Ball from his belt. Electricity runs through the material of his glove, and he smiles.

I held out as long as I could. And Ingo... I'm sorry. I tried.

"EMMET!"

A piercing whistle cuts through the air. It deafens the hoard and overpowers the horrid din, sending vultures with their microphones and buzzards with their smart phones retreating all at once, hands over their ears and tails between their legs.

Those that remain are blocked by a living shield, clad in Gear Station green.

Ramses blows the whistle again, characteristically kind face stern as he wards off the crowd.

"Subway Master Emmet will not be taking any questions at this time, thank you! Those with a train to catch, please move to the designated platform! Everyone else, we ask that you vacate the premises immediately or you will be forcibly removed!"

"Ramses," Emmet breathes in relief. The senior depot agent gives Emmet a brief nod, features soft. Then he turns to do as he has always done, expression hard and uncompromising.

Emmet returns Eelektross' Ball to its place at his belt. He glances at the agent to his right.

"Hey Boss!" Furze greets brightly. They direct the crowd with an energy Emmet last remembers from over five years ago. Furze grins, dark eyes sparkling mischievously. "Exciting day today, huh?"

"Verrrry exciting. Too exciting," Emmet agrees darkly.

Furze's mouth flattens into a grim line, and they nod towards the precious cargo Emmet carries.

"You get Boss Ingo out of here and to safety, Boss Emmet. We got this."

"That we do," drawls another friendly voice from behind them, and the wildfire raging in Emmet's chest cools into warm gratitude as he registers agents Jackie, Hank, and Josh completing the protective circle around the Subway Masters.

"Off you go. See you all tomorrow," Jackie dismisses pleasantly.

"Take a walk, everyone!" Hank suggests. "I hear Lostlorn Forest is nice this time of year!"

"Try the big and small courts if you wish to battle!" Josh adds.

Emmet takes a shuddering breath. Ingo squeezes him briefly, and Emmet jolts.

"I am Emmet! Thank you, everyone! I - we appreciate your assistance verrrry much! We will see you all soon!"

There's a gap in the dispersing crowd. A track he can take. Emmet runs for it.

Ingo pats Emmet's back awkwardly, and Emmet laughs.

"I am fine, Ingo. You just relax. Let me worry about you."

Scarred palms slap weakly at the back of Emmet's head, clearly annoyed by the dismissal.

"I will get you for that later," Emmet promises light-heartedly. He looks to the light green sign next to the descending stairwell he approaches with determination.

"Nearly there now."

The Singles platform is predictably empty of challengers, of anyone. The train waits in the same place as it did over five years, untouched under Emmet's repeated vehement orders. Emmet feels Ingo's head lift to stare at it.

"I'm driving," Emmet says firmly. Unnecessarily, he hopes.

Ingo doesn't argue. He only continues to stare at the train, his train, still standing even after so long in his absence.

Emmet wishes he could see his brother's face.

The seventh car has never felt so far away. Ingo watches each car go by without a word. Finally, the last car is upon them. The doors slide open for the Subway Masters, and Emmet steps inside.

Inside the car is blessedly dark.

It's quiet.

"Ingo," Emmet says softly. "Can you speak?"

There's a shaky exhalation of breath against Emmet's ear. A hoarse attempt at Emmet's name. Ingo shakes his head.

"Okay. That is fine," Emmet says kindly. "Do you think you can stand?"

Ingo seems to ponder the question. He wriggles around experimentally, encouraging Emmet to set him down.

Ingo's legs collapse beneath him and he scrambles to reattach to Emmet like a newly-hatched Joltik.

Emmet huffs, only half in amusement. Ingo smacks him.

"Okay, okay! No laughing at you. I will take you to the driver's cabin with me. Come on."

Emmet swipes his card and inputs his code. Employees only! He wonders if Ingo remembers his own code. Emmet sure hopes so!

That wouldn't be entirely fair to expect, though. Emmet slides Ingo into the driver's seat, humming to himself as he ponders over the controls.

"Hmmm."

Ingo curls up in the seat. He watches closely, eerily silent as Emmet makes his decision.

"We have made quite the scene. Attracted unwanted attention. That is unfortunate, yup. Change of plans. I will take us to a private clinic. Destination set. Full steam ahead!"

The train begins to move. Ingo seems to come alive with the engine, tension clearing as the car rumbles and races down the tracks.

Emmet moves to stand at attention next to Ingo's seat. When Emmet removes his gloves and offers his hand, Ingo takes it.

The scars and callouses littered over Ingo's hands are impossible to ignore thanks to the skin-on-skin contact. Emmet catalogues each and every raised bump and shallow cut with the same manic intensity with which he searched the subway tunnels in the months following Ingo's disappearance.

It seems to finally be sinking in, now.

"Oh, god," Emmet says weakly, and he sinks to the floor.

Ingo's grip tightens with alarm as Emmet huddles against the chair, wrapping his free arm around his knees and bringing them to his chest.

"This is real. This is real, isn't it? I went along with it because I swore I would never turn you away in any dream lest it turn out to be real. And this is real. You are alive. You are not some walking talking corpse my brain made up. You are real and you are alive and you are here and I can’t - "

Ingo slaps Emmet lightly across the face.

“Ow!” Emmet yelps. He holds his stinging cheek and glares at his mean older brother. “What was that for?!”

Ingo regards him with a deadpan stare. Which, yeah, not too different from his usual frown. But whatever. Emmet is still verrrry happy to see it.

Then Ingo’s eyes slide down to Emmet’s sleeves and he panics.

“YOU ARE HURT,” Ingo signs, movements clumsy and yet almost too fast for Emmet to read, and Ingo snatches at Emmet’s sleeves and pulls them closer.

“Ingo! Calm down! I’m fine!”

Ingo’s grip tightens until the cuffs threaten to rip.

“BIG BROTHER!”

Ingo lets go in shock.

"It is just sauce, Ingo. Fucking. Curry sauce?" Emmet frowns when Ingo's eyes do not light up in recognition. "Do you not remember what curry sauce is?"

Ingo stares blankly.

"Ingo?"

Ingo blinks. He reaches out again to hesitantly latch onto the lapels of Emmet's coat. His face twists until he looks stricken.

It is frightening.

"I. Regret to say that I don't quite. Remember. A lot of things," Ingo admits hoarsely, and he winces. "Sorry."

"What?"

What.

Emmet shakes his head.

"Nothing. We are both being stupid," he dismisses firmly. He frowns again (how many times is this in the space of thirty minutes? Is this a record? No, he’s being stupid; he’s frowned so much since Ingo disappeared - ) as he at last takes the time to properly look his brother over again. "You look like shit," he eventually decides upon.

Ingo looks vaguely offended. He shoves Emmet away, and Emmet catches himself as he leans against the control panel, laughing.

"You remember me, though."

"I remember you," Ingo affirms. He looks down in shame. "I didn't remember you for the longest time."

Oh. That... hurts. Emmet can't pretend it doesn't.

"You did not remember the depot agents," Emmet realises.

“No.”

Emmet stands abruptly. He determinedly does not sway as he scours over the control panel and looks out the front window.

“You say you cannot remember a lot of things.”

They are approaching their destination. Emmet gently applies the brakes.

“I will help you remember.”

He can feel Ingo’s eerie new gaze digging into his back.

Emmet turns around and smiles.

“But first we must do something about that slouch of yours.”

Ingo rolls his eyes but concedes.

Emmet calls a cab before pulling Ingo’s arm over his shoulder and departing for the old maintenance tunnel he knows will eventually lead to the surface.

Reality can be so much stranger than fiction, he muses.

Emmet feels like he’s going to be sick.

#submas #subway boss ingo #subway master nobori #subway boss emmet #subway master kudari #pokemon legends arceus #pla #fanfiction #my writing #suspend your sense of disblief. I am a farm hand not an engineer. I am pulling shit out of my ass.#again. this will also be on ao3 #pictures the subway train from spiral: from the book of saw in my mind

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yama951 · 2 years

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Driftveil City, Unova Region, 2022 AC

The two stayed in Driftveil just a little bit longer, needing to rest themselves as well as getting their bearings on what to do next. That and letting Emmet mentally get away from his dragon side. Elesa had to buy some self-help books and helped Emmet stay calm during the practice. Meditation wasn’t really his strong suit, being so high energy.

They had some success. His claws had pulled back though they remained black, giving him a more black nail polish goth look.

Emmet soon groaned as he laid back on the floor of their hotel room.

“I am Emmet. This is verrrrry dull.”

“I know but we need to keep meditating and calming down your Zekrom side or we’ll have a repeat of you going ‘oh treasure ours’ at me. Which is honestly very objectifying in hindsight.”

“I apologize. Zekrom does not think like a human.”

“We are talking about some thousands of years old dragon of legend.” Elesa said as she placed some lunch on the table from the hotel’s restaurant.

“Well, we can’t stay here. Reshiram’s condition and they don’t know what happened to my brother…”

“We could go to Opelucid City and talk to Drayden. He is the dragon expert.”

Emmet couldn’t help but growl.

“He is also Kyurem in a human meat puppet.”

“Look, I know I don’t know about all this dragon nonsense but, what’s the difference? Aren’t you also connected to Zekrom?”

“I…” Emmet started before he made himself calm down. “I am Emmet. I am Emmet. I am Emmet.” he then took a deep breath in and out. “What I did in Nimbasa City. What I did to Rood. It was similar to what Kyurem did to the person that would become Drayden. The progenitor dragons have the power to devour the Will of others, partly or completely. I as Zekrom even more so, to enforce my Ideal upon others. But I did not subsume them. I kept them within me but I did not dissolve their Will into my own. Kyurem, on the other hand, had no Will, and like a starving pokemon, they devoured the one unfortunate enough to meet him. In fact, they must have been full enough to just devour the Will instead of everything else. I remember bits, or at least I pulled out some of Zekrom’s memory, of being born. The Original Dragon of Will split in half and for the first time, Zekrom and Reshiram fought against the living corpse that was Kyurem and drove them away. They were… less filled out then. Less… real, so to speak.” Emmet then looked out from the hotel window. His eyes glowed as ancient memories flashed before him. Only for the train of thought to be broken by Elesa placing her hand on his shoulder. The glow on his eyes faded.

“You are Emmet.”

“I am Emmet. Right. I am Emmet. Thank you Elesa. I am Emmet. Kyurem ate other things, trying to be real again. They performed subsumption to survive. A terrible action. To consume and dissolve the entirety of an individual, body… mind… heart… will… every aspect of their soul… leaving nothing, truly nothing, behind.”

Elesa then noticed Emmet’s grip on her hand as he shuddered, eyes quaking in fear.

“I am Emmet.” he muttered out in horror. “I nearly… I could have… Nimbasa could have…” he covered his mouth with his other hand and quickly ran to the bathroom. Elesa glanced at the bought lunch at the table as Emmet hurled out his breakfast. She went to wait by the bathroom door.

“Think of it this way Em, at least you were human enough not to… dissolve people’s will into yours.”

“Yes, I only end up having a mental hoard of people’s free will for a while. Zekrom’s dream or not, I will make both of us not to subsume anything. I will make it Zekrom’s new ideal if I have to.”

“Would Ingo have the same power?”

“I… I think so. But he’s connected to Reshiram, and… Reshiram is more about enforcing their will on the world than on people. I… recall Reshiram taking in what they learn of the world and enforcing it out… it is hard to explain.”

“It’s alright. Just, keep yourself out of Zekrom’s memories, Em. Thousands of years of memory might not be healthy for humans, even if Zekrom was asleep through most of it.”

“I am Emmet. I totally agree. But Zekrom knows things.”

“Emmet.” Elesa loudly said. “If you regrew your claws and damaged the bathroom, I will make you pay for damages.”

“Understood. I will keep myself far from Zekrom’s memories.”

Elesa then heard the sound of the sink being used before he exited the bathroom.

“So, Opelucid City and Drayden?”

“I am not sure. He is our only lead but the idea of going to anyone close to Kyurem…” Emmet then shivered as if someone stepped on his grave. “I understand that what they did was out of desperation to be whole again but Kyurem forced a fusion with Reshiram and Zekrom at different times. Not to mention that Drayden held the DNA Splicers in the first place before Neo Team Plasma stole it from him in their attack of Opelucid City, which begs the question on when and how did he have it and how long was he planning on reforming the original dragon?”

“Honestly, that is suspicious. Dragon lore expert or not…” Elesa said as her rotomphone then floated out.

“Mistress! A new hashtag is trending that you might be interested in! Hashtag Ingo Conspiracy!”

That derailed their conversation as they went to look at Chirper and Vidtube about it. Discussions online about Ingo time traveling filled the phone screen as the two soon found the video from the Sinnoh History Museum’s Vidtube channel.

“That’s… that’s Ingo’s voice.” Elesa muttered as she went to the video’s description. “‘Found and restored from a miraculously intact smartphone in an area north of Mount Coronet. The video is dated to two hundred years ago in the Hisui Era.’ H-how?”

Emmet pulled out his phone and began calling Ingo’s number, recalling every time he ended up with the voice message. It took a couple tries but someone picked up. Emmet quickly went on speaker phone.

“Uh,” a man replied. “Hello? Is this the owner of the phone? If this isn’t, the ICRS is interested in how you got this number.”

“I am Emmet. You have Ingo’s phone. I want an explanation as to how and why his phone ended up in Sinnoh two hundred years ago.”

“I-I’m sorry?” the person on the other side said as the phone picked up other people’s voices in the background.

“Wait, the ICRS?” Elesa pointed out. “That’s great, we could ask the ones here in Driftveil and they might help us find Ingo.”

“Driftveil? I’m sorry but I’m with the Temporal Division, not the Legendary Division…”

“Well it’s now both divisions’ problem since we’re sure Ingo’s connected to Reshiram and we just found out that he’s in the past!” Elesa shouted.

“Thank you Elesa, for voicing out my thoughts.” Emmet added.

“You’re welcome.” she said to Emmet before facing the phone. “So, where do we have to go to get the phone? It might help us find Ingo some more.”

“There’s probably some paperwork-”

“Paperwork, schmaperwork. It’s at Sinnoh right? Do you want Emmet fistfight a god to get his brother back?”

There was some noise as someone else picked up the phone.

“Hello, this is Cynthia, a Sinnoh champion, speaking. Who am I talking to?”

“Elesa Nabovsky, the Nimbasa City Gym Leader, and Emmet Jameni, the co-Battle Subway Master. We were on the lookout for Ingo Jameni, the other Battle Subway Master, who disappeared months ago. Recently, Emmet Jameni has gained the qualities and powers of the progenitor Zekrom and when we went to talk to the progenitor Reshiram, we found that they recently gained some sort of illness affecting their mental faculties, roughly at the same time as Ingo’s disappearance. If Ingo ended up in the past…”

There was a sigh.

“We might need to get Interpol’s help.” Cynthia muttered. “Okay, get the ICRS to help you in Driftveil City. They’ll contact other groups given how big this suddenly turned out to be. From there, you can head to Jubilife City. Oh Arceus, Lucas and Barry might call Dialga and Palkia soon and that’s gonna be a disaster…”

Noises from the other people with her spoke up at that reveal.

“Look, we’ll try to restore the rest of the phone’s data as fast as possible. That’ll be a good starting off point. We’ll continue this conversation once you’re here.” Cynthia said before she ended the call.

Elesa and Emmet then looked at the phone screen in silence.

“My brother’s in the past…” Elesa simply hugged him, trying to keep him stable.

“Don’t worry Emmet. We’ve made progress now. We just need to get help from the professionals alright. We’ll find him and save him. Let’s go eat lunch. I’m sure the ICRS people in the sanctuary would help us even more now.”

“I am Emmet. I will… I will try not to rush on this. Ingo would want me to take all the necessary safety checks after all.”

Elesa simply smiled at that before the two went to eat their lunch.

#lucid twin dragons au #submas #submas au #pokemon fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #world building #fanfic #worldbuilding #pokemon legends arceus #submas emmet #subway master emmet #gym leader elesa #pokemon elesa

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