"Hey, Steven?" Khalid's voice broke the silence, barely audible over the rhythmic crashing of waves against the hull. He sat on the ferry's worn wooden bench, his eyes locked on the endless expanse of ocean stretching out before them as the boat made its way towards Hoenn. The sea was a vast, shimmering blanket of blue, and every now and then, the ferry would part the water with a gentle lurch, sending sprays of cool mist into the air. The salt in the air was almost palpable, clinging to Khalid's skin as the wind tugged at his clothes.
Above, a flock of Wingulls wheeled and dipped, their white wings catching the sunlight. They called out in shrill, cheerful cries, their voices blending with the steady hum of the ferry's engines as they danced above the waves, following the boat like loyal companions.
"Yeah? What is it?" Steven's voice crackled through the communicator, his tone curious yet distant, as though his mind was already halfway to the mysteries that awaited them.
Khalid hesitated, his hand gripping his worn leather bag, fingers tracing the familiar contours as if seeking comfort from the familiar texture. The bag, which he carried everywhere, seemed almost to pulse with the weight of its contents. He could feel the edges of the stones inside, cool and smooth under the fabric, and for a moment, it felt as though they were alive—eager to leap from his grasp and reveal their secrets.
"What're these stones about anyway?" Khalid finally asked, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and unease. "Surely some ordinary gemstones aren't worth coming all the way here for so—"
Steven's lips curled into a knowing smile, a flash of pride crossing his features. The light played across his face, casting sharp shadows that danced in time with the movement of the boat.
"Oh, these aren't just any ordinary stones!" Steven's voice was filled with a barely contained excitement, his eyes gleaming as he spoke. "I've been studying these for months, and I've theorized that they might be proof of a time shift in our very world!"
Khalid's brow furrowed, confusion and intrigue warring within him. "Time shift?"
Steven nodded, the motion almost imperceptible but carrying the weight of conviction. His fingers tapped rhythmically against his leg, his mind racing with thoughts that seemed too fast for words.
"Haven't you noticed?" he continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "There have been a lot of strange occurrences in caves recently—abnormal fluctuations in the environment, strange readings from deep within the earth. Many researchers were stumped until Professor Adams submitted her groundbreaking research."
Steven's eyes blazed with excitement, his voice growing more animated with every word. But as he looked at Khalid's overwhelmed expression, he paused, clearing his throat, trying to rein in his enthusiasm.
Khalid blinked, trying to keep up with the flood of information. "What makes you think these stones are related to that, anyway?"
Steven leaned back slightly, his gaze steady as he observed Khalid. "Didn't you notice anything unusual when you fought that Charizard?"
Khalid's eyes widened in recognition. "What do you mean?"
Steven's smile widened, a spark of triumph lighting up his features. His hand shot up, pointing towards the sky, as though he was unveiling a grand revelation. "That Charizard you faced—it wasn't just any Charizard. What you saw was the form of its ancestor! Charizard's ancient form!"
Khalid's heart skipped a beat, the realization hitting him like a thunderbolt. His thoughts raced as he tried to process the enormity of what he had just heard. "R-really?!" His voice trembled with excitement. To think that he had encountered something so extraordinary—it was the find of the century!
"I've got to tell Ayuna about this!" Khalid exclaimed, the thrill of discovery pulsing through his veins. He fumbled with the communicator, his mind already racing ahead to the conversation he would have.
Just as he was about to disconnect, Steven's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Who's Ayuna?"
Khalid's finger hovered over the hang-up button, his mind suddenly flooded with memories. He hesitated, considering his words, before a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Don't you remember? He's the kid who fought alongside me..." His voice softened, a touch of warmth creeping into his tone. "At this point, you could call him my friend."
The scene shifted, the vibrant colors of the ocean and sky giving way to the dim, muted tones of a small bedroom. The air was thick with the scent of dust and faint traces of lingering perfume. A young girl stood alone, her tiny frame dwarfed by the imposing furniture that surrounded her. Her eyes, wide and filled with a mixture of hope and desperation, followed her parents as they moved about the room.
"Dad?" Her voice was small, almost timid, as she watched her father shrug into his lab coat, the white fabric stark against the dim lighting. His movements were hurried, distracted, as though his mind was already elsewhere.
"Mom?" The girl's voice trembled, a plea hidden beneath the surface. But her words fell on deaf ears, her parents too absorbed in their preparations to notice the quiver in her voice. Her mother, her face blurred in the girl's tear-filled vision, approached and bent down, brushing a gentle hand against her cheek. The gesture was meant to be comforting, but it only deepened the ache in the girl's chest.
"We're heading out now…" Her mother's voice was soft, almost apologetic, as she straightened and turned towards the door. The girl's heart pounded in her chest, a frantic rhythm that seemed to echo in the quiet room.
"N-no! Don't go!" The girl's cry was filled with desperation, her small hands reaching out as if she could somehow hold them back. But they moved away, their backs to her as they stepped towards the door. Her father's hand reached for the knob, the movement slow and deliberate, as though time itself was stretching out, prolonging the moment.
The door swung open with an ominous creak, revealing a blinding light that poured into the room, erasing the shadows and washing everything in a harsh, unforgiving glow. The girl's heart clenched as the light enveloped her parents, and she ran towards them, her feet pounding against the floor in a futile attempt to reach them before they disappeared.
But it was too late. The light swallowed them whole, and when it finally faded, the girl was alone. The room around her was a ruin, the once familiar space now a desolate landscape of shattered memories. The walls, once vibrant with color, were cracked and peeling, and the furniture lay in broken heaps, as if the very essence of the room had been torn apart.
"Mom…" Her voice was a whisper, choked with tears that threatened to spill over. "Dad…"
She collapsed to the floor, her small body wracked with sobs as she buried her face in her hands. The room echoed with the sound of her cries, the emptiness amplifying her grief. But there was no one left to hear her. No one to hold her, to tell her that everything would be alright. It was just her, and the broken pieces of a life that had slipped through her fingers.
But that was all a distant memory…
Professor Adams stood alone in a sterile, dimly lit room, leaning heavily against a cold, metallic machine. The room was filled with a quiet hum, the sound of machinery working tirelessly, oblivious to the passage of time. The air was thick with the acrid scent of cigarette smoke, curling in lazy tendrils towards the ceiling. Her face was hidden behind a veil of smoke, her eyes red-rimmed and weary.
"Fuck… How long was I sitting like this again?" She muttered, her voice hoarse from disuse. Her hand, still holding the cigarette, trembled slightly as she brought it to her lips for one final drag. The taste was bitter, but it grounded her, pulling her back from the edge of the abyss that loomed just beyond her consciousness.
She exhaled slowly, watching the smoke drift upwards, before letting her hand fall to her side. "I think I spaced out…" She murmured to herself, the words barely audible in the stillness of the room. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but beneath the weariness lay a steely resolve.