Just like the rest of our family line, Max started off on his own journey.

  In a show of control, I had not said anything about his choice of Pokemon. I hoped that I wouldn’t even need to rely on him to save me like I had with the others. The traditions I created hadn’t produced results anyways. I had mixed thoughts about my failure to properly guide the kids, but I bmed my methods rather than my descendants.

  Sawk’s hand appeared on the edge of the roof and soon he joined me in my spot. Once upon a time I had jumped up here to get away from the kids and it worked perfectly. Now, it was a pce where I plotted. Or rather, waited to continue my next scheme.

  I looked at the sky, eyes picking out the glow of pixie dust that rose up in the air. I threw rocks at them, taking from a pile I had gathered. I didn’t take joy in seeing them fade, much like didn’t think “Graduation” was worth commemorating with anything but a pat on the back and, if I was feeling grim, a solemn nod. This was not in line with what Penelope and Kenneth made me promise.

  I threw a rock with sharply at a floating orb as I recalled how Kenneth told me that I shouldn’t be a “grumpy ol’ killjoy” and tell a couple of the positive stories I had in me. That man was bloody fucking lucky that I loved him.

  A handbag appeared behind my pile of pebbles, Sawk must not have wanted to disturb me. “It isn’t time for that yet.” I turned my head to gnce at my long time companion before turning to scan past the slope of the roof for anyone who might listen in to our one sided conversation.

  Poor souls the lot of them. This humble little death trap was their punishment for…misbehaving. It would not be prudent to forget this fact.

  No one capable of listening in appears to be out so I turn back to find that Sawk had not moved an inch.

  “Sawk” my old friend said. Inflection and tone subtle.

  “Arceus damned right we’re doing this tonight. I need that st piece for Jill” I stated. My most dedicated Pokemon was one of the few who knew the pn, but it was because he knew that he worried. I was the confident one, but I still valued the thought he put into his worries.

  His strange eyebrow rose in a prompting motion, slightly amused as he pced a finger on top of his wrist where a watch would be and then he held up one finger.

  “Hell” I breathed, the merchants were scheduled to arrive in an hour. Despite my certainty otherwise, I was wrong. I took off into the forest, leaping above the trees and heading towards the spot I knew they would be. Sawk followed behind me, smashing any wild Pokemon that were too strong. Killing them.

  They were supposed to be cleared out by the moth man for the kids. Supposed was the key word.

  I instinctively stopped when I heard the noise. The sound of engines and of a rge creature dragging along the ground pointed me towards my destination as Sawk knife handed a Floette in half. The earth churned as he buried the body, no evidence to the kill.

  I approached at the same speed as before, reaching the pathway they were using. An Onix led the group of vehicles packed with crates, the rock snake low to the ground to avoid the interced branches of this fairy paradise.

  From my perch on a rge branch, I waved to the woman in one of the jeeps. Felicia was her name and I cared about little else but her weakness, or rather her normalcy. As I reached down to my side to grab the spatially enhanced handbag full of money, I also sent a wave of my aura through the air to hit Felicia as the young ss waved back.

  The previous dose of aura was still kicking, my tampering hadn’t been found or erased it seemed.

  I sent a couple more smaller waves, much like radio waves, to the others before tossing the handbag into the open top jeep as they passed.

  They continued on as if nothing happened, and I waited for my man. He arrived two minutes ter, out of sight of the normal traders on a Revavroom.

  “Patty! My friend! How are ya doing today!” he greeted, leaping out from his ride with excitement. I knew both he and his boss LOVED doing business with me. Stingy as I usually was with money, I didn’t dare underspend when it came to this.

  “I’m doing peachy. The kids left recently, new trainers that’ll tear through your shitty little gym system. My grandson headed out too, the st one” I liked Winston so I’d indulge him. He used to be the one to bring the newspapers until I learned about his connections and we arranged this little smuggling operation.

  I told him about my other grandkids and an old story about Emboar, a gym battle, and a bag of taffy before he brought out the st piece of my year long order.

  “Here it is, the beast crystal” he slipped back over to his ride, plucking a leather drawstring bag from the floor and dumping it out into his gloved hand. A bck and white chunk, ft on two sides and craggly on the others sort of like a weathered brick. The bck part was jagged, seeping through the white but frozen in pce. “Some free advice, don’t underestimate ultra beasts.”

  “I won’t. And Winston” I reached to shake his hand, pumping confidence into him with my aura. “Don’t you dare breath a word of this project of mine to anyone” like a sponge I sucked back at the extended emotion.

  I may be courage incarnate, but that didn’t mean I had space to put it all. The difference between the high and the still plummeting low gave way to visible fear on Winston’s face.

  And I liked Winston. I truly did. Probably among the top five best friends I ever had.

  His Pokemon tried to help, sensing that something was wrong with its master. I believe it tried to sling a sharp disk coated in poison at me with its exhaust pipes. Sawk ended that attempt with shuddering ease.

  In his sudden ck of control, the smuggler dropped the crystal but I wasn’t worried. When it reached the ground, a soft mat of blue poppies, the ground sunk. Molding to the crystal the ground cradled its form before throwing it into my partner’s blue hand like a weird trampoline.

  I reached into Winston’s mind, taking every little bit of conviction he had, even pulling from all the memories of successes, lessons, trust in others, and repeated actions that led him to become skilled. Every little source was taken from him slowly. The man in front of me so full of anxiety over simply CRAWLING the short distance back to his trembling Pokemon.

  “Not a word” my voice cut into the man that did not face me before I gave him courage back. MY courage. He started functioning again, able to stand up, able to breathe on purpose rather than by accident, capable of existing well enough except he wouldn’t be the same risk taker as before.

  He may have been a friend, but Winston wasn’t family. That difference is meaningful to me, changes fucking everything.

  This would be the year project Metronome went terribly wrong.