Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Civil war sucks.

Ingo thoroughly decided that about a year ago. There was barely any food, water was scarce, and mutated humans with Pokémon abilities hunted him down whenever they caught so much as a whiff of his scent. And being someone who didn't want to turn himself into a Pokémon, Ingo was lucky enough to outrun the Splicers' attention spans. It all just sucked.

First, it was Hisui. Ingo woke up without a lick of his memories, and the large majority still eluded him. In Hisui, he was an outcast without any luxuries. Ingo's only saving grace was how easily he could tame down a Pokémon.

Then he woke up in a city under the water to a man with a weird accent named Atlas. Oh that Atlas. That man, there was something so off about him. He made Ingo hit the brakes immediately, nothing seemed trustworthy about him. But, Ingo couldn't complain that he had taken the weird traveler in. Food, water, a few luxuries, and socialization. It took everyone a bit to get used to Ingo's lack of an inside voice, but they did. It was a shame that the Splicers didn't.

Ingo just wanted to go back to whatever station he belonged to. To the man he could barely remember that almost looked exactly like him. To get a tailor for his old coat and hat, to stop living in constant stress, to-

Stop setting off alarms attached to untouched safes that surely hid food! Ugh!

So the man ran, looking furiously around for a small nook or cranny he could hide in while the security bots' timers ran out. He could hear that blasted whirling drawing closer on his caboose, Ingo’s own panic amplifying the sound of the bots compared to the sound of a bloodbath he was unknowingly running towards.

Internally, the out of place man swore violently, as he emerged into a very open spot in Rapture. Ingo was never going to get a mental map of this place, was he? The man ducked away from the door when he heard the whistling, trying to avoid the stray bullets of warring Splicers. Behind some crates he climbed, hoping those poor souls would take care of the security bots for him.

Ingo flinched as he heard artificial lightning hit the bots, and then something reactivate them. It was better those blasted things went with someone, Ingo decided, because it meant they wouldn’t be going after him. He was shaking worse than a train furnace about to blow, despite trying to calm down with deep breaths. The sounds of carnage were dying down, that was probably hopeful. Ingo just needed to pray to Arceus that the Splicer taking the bots wouldn’t catch his scent and decide to be cruel.

His heart pounded harder as the shadow of a large man washed over him.

“Would you kindly put yer weapon away, lad?” A voice from a shortwave radio said. The large, blond man complied, holstering a monkey’s wrench in his belt. “I know that lad. He ain’t gonna hurt ya, I don’t think. Help him out, boyo. Ingo’s been... In a rough spot.”

Atlas.

Arceus banish him, Ingo thought he was free of that man! And yet, here he was, the voice on a radio of who must have been that supersoldier. A supersoldier that was extending a hand to Ingo. Well, the man couldn’t pass up the alleyship of a powerful genetically modified person that could protect him. So the hand was accepted, and Ingo pulled out from behind the crates.

“Still managed t’ keep that coat an’ hat on ye, huh?” Atlas asked through the radio. Ingo looked around, bodies littering the floor in an oddly comforting manner, before speaking.

“They are all I have!” Ingo spoke, his volume making the supersoldier jump. “I... I need to keep what I have! So that I don’t forget what little I remember!”

“I s’ppose that’s fair.” Atlas purred. “Well, boyo, that there’s a lad named Ingo. Ingo, this lad’s gonna help me gun down ol’ Ryan. Originally, we were gonna get me family outta here, through th’ fisheries, but... Ryan... Ryan is gonna pay fer what he did.”

The supersoldier nodded, placing a hand on his wrench. Ingo just looked at him, then turned tail.

“You have fun with that, then!” He said, heading back down the corridor from which he came.

“Get th’ lad, would you kindly, boyo?” Ingo heard. “We’ve got some things to discuss.”

No, they had nothing to discuss. Ingo wanted nothing to do with them, so he ran. But the supersoldier was faster, gaining speed on the malnourished and dehydrated human. Down they both went when Ingo was caught, the poor man yelling out in pain when his shoulder hit the ground with more force than a train collision. Why was his brain so on trains? Regardless, it hurt, and it hurt badly.

“Why so eager t’ run, Ingo?” Atlas taunted behind the safety of that stupid radio on the supersoldier’s belt. “C’mon, lad! You do owe me a wee favor, after all.”

“I want nothing to do with you!” Ingo cried out, holding his shoulder while struggling against the rising supersoldier’s grasp. “Let me go!”

“Not so fast, boyo. Don’t ya recall? You fell into th’ department store, an’ I had me boys take ya in. Fed ya, gave ya somethin’ t’ drink, you even said yerself that we were yer first proper social circle in as far as yer amnesiac brain could remember.” The Irishman clicked his tongue, Ingo could picture him shaking his head. “What’d I do t’ deserve bein’ treated like this?”

As quickly as his mouth was opened to speak, Ingo closed it to hold his tongue. If he said a word about even just one grievance, Atlas could command the supersoldier to rip the man’s head off. He wasn’t keen on becoming a ghost type today.

“I... Decided to try to find my own way back to where I belong!” Ingo said, pain making his voice wobble. “Because I don’t know if you can really help! And I don’t want you to arrive at the wrong station!”

The supersoldier began to move, Ingo still firmly in his arms. If it wasn’t under such unpleasant circumstances, the non-lethal touch might have even been nice.

“Is that so?” Atlas asked with a slow drawl. Ingo nodded. He knew Atlas could tell it was a lie. “I s’ppose that’s understandable.” He hummed, so taunting. Seeming to relish in watching Ingo squirm on the cameras. “But I’m sure, we scratch yer back, you’ll scratch ours.”

There was no out. He was stuck in this. Oh dear Arceus, maybe death would be nice... But Ingo’s willpower and desire to go home was not going to allow that option to dwell longer than just a sarcastic second in his brain.

“If you insist!” Ingo said wearily.

“You can let ‘im go, boyo. But would ya kindly not let him run off?” On command, the supersoldier gently put the human down, then walked over to a first aid station. He motioned for Ingo to come over. Could you blame the man for not really wanting to?

Not wanting to anger the soldier, or especially Atlas, though, Ingo took shaky steps towards the first aid. With gentle hands, the supersoldier removed Ingo’s coat sleeve, and began to feel it over for the injury. When Ingo cried out again, he went to work patching the man up.

“So... What’s your, uh, your name?” Ingo asked, looking away from his arm. His shoulder was probably broken. Fractured, at least. Concret floors and the force the soldier tackled him with would surely mean that. He looked back when the supersoldier didn’t say a thing, and neither did Atlas.

The supersoldier’s brow was furrowed, his green eyes filled with confusion as lips moved, but no voice escaped.

“He’s mute.” Atlas finally piped up. “I’ve jus’ been callin’ ‘im lad an’ boyo.” There was a faint note in his voice, something that felt like discomfort and anger, which sent a chill down Ingo’s spine. Wrong move.

“Do you have some sort of identification?” Ingo asked instead.

The supersoldier paused, then nodded. From his back pocket came a wallet, and... The soldier paused, looking it all over.

“We can discuss this kinda thing later, it’s a bad idea t’ stay in one spot in Rapture.” Atlas said, a slight hiss in his voice. Another wrong move.

“It is! I would hate to cause a delay in your plans!” Ingo said, straightening up and pointing to the area he was originally at. “There should be supplies over there!”

The supersoldier looked to where Ingo was pointing, then to the security bots that were following him around. He calmly pointed to them, and the human nodded in shame.

“I was trying to open a safe that I thought might have some food in it!” He said, lowering his head so that the old conductor hat’s brim covered his eyes. “But I can’t say I’m any good with such odd mechanics!”

The supersoldier nodded, and then held up a small tool that Ingo had seen around once or twice. But not knowing the purpose of it, he just tilted his head instead.

The soldier started walking, the bots following behind clunkily, bumping into each other and the walls, but never either man. Ingo followed somewhat closely, not ready to anger Atlas further. He would need to play along, but dang it, the poor, out of place, confused man wasn’t an actor, he was a Pokémon trainer! And something else, but just what that other thing was, Ingo couldn’t really remember.

While the supersoldier spotted the safe and got busy with that, Ingo looked around. On the counter nearby was a pen. Stuck in the hand of a Splicer corpse. Just right on through it, in one side of the hand and out the palm. The sight made Ingo’s stomach churn, but it was a sight he was, sadly, getting used to. The word of “therapy” floated through his mind. He could agree he needed that.

With a deep breath, Ingo stepped closer, keenly looking over the corpse for any sign that it was just a person pretending to be dead. With no signs of fluttering eyelids or the smallest movement of the chest, he firmly grasped the pen and yanked it out. It was a sturdy metal one, the tip looking bent but usable. Ingo gagged a little at the blood that was sticky, not quite dry yet. It looked worse than a Pidove that didn’t realize what a train horn meant.

The man turned on his heel quickly, swallowing and approaching the supersoldier. He just needed a way to humanize Atlas’ toy. Those gentle hands had some sort of personality to them, it wasn’t fair, in Ingo’s mind, to just keep referring to him as “the supersoldier.”

He honestly regretted listening in on Atlas. Sneaking around and then sneaking off. He knew bits and pieces of Atlas’ plan, and it wasn’t for freedom. Something about a Frank Fontaine faking a death, this supersoldier, and Ryan dying. It was easy to get an outline.

The supersoldier turned around quickly, making Ingo jump. He’d managed to get the safe open, lucky him. And now he was offering Ingo a pep bar that must have been inside. In turn, Ingo offered the bloodied pen, and they slowly exchanged goods.

“I figured you could write your name out instead!” Ingo quickly got to work opening and devouring the small food item. “ I doubt paper matters! This city is so far derailed, there’s no use in getting it back on track! Just write on whatever you’d like!”

A sparkle came into the supersoldier’s eyes, and he looked around for a pale surface that he could write on. Ingo watched as he went to the wall of the lofty bar, and wrote out, more in blood than ink, the name “Jack.”

Ingo nodded.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jack!” He said, straightening his back and pointing with both arms to nothing in particular. Jack looked to where he thought Ingo was pointing, figured it was nothing, and nodded.

“Jack, huh? Aye, a fittin’ name fer ya, lad.” Atlas chimed in. “I think that’s ‘nought o’ a detour, though. Look in that basement fer some distilled water, that’s where they made Arcadia’s wine.”

Jack nodded, and motioned for Ingo to follow. Down into the basement he went, the clumsy bots following. Ingo wasn’t sure he wanted to follow, especially when he heard the haunting whistle. Something down there had a minor explosion, the gunshots were ringing out harshly in Ingo’s ears, and guttural screams echoed into his soul. Almighty Sinnoh, he did not want to follow that poor supersoldier. At least, not until the place was cleared out. Ingo was getting used to corpses, and he much preferred corpses.

Once things quieted down, he took a deep breath. A shaky step down the first step, then the second, then... Was he really going to do this? Yes, he was going to take the third step. And fourth. And so on, until he was at the bottom of the stairwell, standing in shallow water. Ingo looked around, and spotted Jack looting a corpse. Probably a good idea not to sneak up on him.

The area was dark, too, so probably an especially good idea not to speak. Distilled water, right? Well, that should be easy to spot. They were always in jars. Tempting to drink, too, always. But if Atlas wanted it gathered, he’d have to restrain himself. He wanted to go home, not to the afterlife. Though, maybe Ingo could accept becoming a Yamask. Ghost types don’t die, maybe as a Yamask he could travel the world and wait through time until he found his home station. But there were no Pokémon on this planet, in this world, so Ingo wasn’t going to welcome that idea too much.

He took a few steps, and heard a gun point at his back. Ingo raised his hands, and turned to face Jack. The gun was lowered and Jack’s shoulders relaxed. They both signed relief. The supersoldier raised his hands, a motion to tell Ingo to wait, and he came over. From his belt, Jack brough out the wrench, and offered it to the other man. Ingo held his hands up and shook his head, but Jack insisted. Well, maybe he would feel a little safer with a weapon. So he took the hefty wrench, not quite expecting it to be so heavy. Jack nodded, and gave a comforting smile.

How was an engineered supersoldier so kind? Ingo moistened his lips and opened his mouth. But he didn’t want to call over any Splicers, and he didn’t want to anger Atlas. So instead, he took a deep breath, and looked around.

Suddenly, though, Jack grabbed his face and turned it to look at him. Ingo’s heart dropped, he prayed it wasn’t time to meet Arceus. Jack looked positively confused, his mouth opening and closing in a vain attempt to speak. He then shook his head, and bent Ingo’s head down to look at the water.

Oh yeah.

Ingo forgot his eyes glowed.

He looked up to Jack and nodded, but the supersoldier looked concerned. Everyone that learned his eyes glowed seemed to be concerned, but Ingo was sure plenty of other people had eyes that glowed in the dark. It wasn’t like this was from that strange ADAM stuff. They were glowing long before Rapture.

The human turned and began his search for distilled water, trying to be quiet and not splash the water with every sluggish step. The sloshing was still annoying, however, but Jack’s steps in the other direction were much louder, surely alerting Splicers to him instead of Ingo.

Every time there was a voice nearby, he paused until it went away. Every time he spotted a jar, he beelined to check it out. Luckily, only one was filled with something that it shouldn’t have been, and Ingo hadn’t even touched it. But he found only two jars before he ran into Jack.

The supersoldier grinned widely when he saw the two jars tucked in Ingo’s arm. It was a goofy grin. Jack wiped a bloodied hand on his sweater before taking the jars and tucking them inside a backpack. He gave Ingo a thumbs up, and looked around for the next direction to go in.

Deciding that the next area would be rather straightforward, Ingo stuck with Jack. It seemed that his security bots had both gone down now, so at least that constant, embarrassing reminder was gone. As they walked, Ingo looked at the shortwave radio hanging from Jack’s belt. He sincerely hoped that either it was off, or Atlas would choose to have some mercy to not alert any Splicers they were nearby.

He was fresh outta luck.

“Hurry up down there, lads! Air in Rapture’s gettin’ thinner by th’ minute!” That dreaded voice came through loudly, causing Ingo to freeze. He could hear moving water around them, and knew Atlas did that on purpose. Because cruel men always want a show.

Jack moved to provide Ingo a shield from the onslaught of drug-crazed people, but a Spider slipped past. Could one blame Ingo for running? Normally he had Pokémon to help protect them, like Sneasler or... Or a fire type he couldn’t place a name to, one that he loved dearly... But this wanted the time to dwell on lost memories, as the Spider Splicer jumped from the ceiling. Ingo ducked to the side, reflexes hardened from living vulnerable to wild Pokémon. The Spider Splicer missed him, but she was quick to jump back and recover, facing her prey with soulless eyes.

Ingo held the wrench in front of him, trying to look intimidating. Surely his coat helped a little, right? Made him look bigger than he actually was? Probably not, as the Splicer lunged again. Though Ingo jumped back, a wall prisoned him, allowing the sickle hook to embed itself deeply into his leg.

A truly loud scream caught the Splicer off guard. Like, this muppet man was loud for the norm, of course he was going to have a scream that’s louder than anything anyone’s heard. In the moment of vulnerability, Ingo drew back the wrench and, with all the strength his malnourished body could muster, swung.

Blood splattered from the wound, but the Splicer was quick to start getting up. Ingo didn’t let her. Repeatedly, he brought the wrench down, staining himself and his clothing with her ADAM-saturated blood. She stopped moving, but Ingo did not. Not until her skull lost all of the back of it and the adrenaline began to drain from his body.

Oh dear Arceus.

She was dead.

Ingo stepped back, horrified.

She was dead.

He killed her.

The splash of the wrench hitting the water didn’t even register.

He ran.

The water tripped him a lot, but he ran.

He ran, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Blindly, he ran. He hadn’t even noticed the tripwire until it was too late, and he was electrocuted. Down into the water he fell, but he was quick to recover, pushing himself up and gasping for the foul air.

Using the wall to help himself up, Ingo realized his chest burned. How big was this distillery? Oh Arceus, how many Splicers heard him running? He tried to pause and listen, but his heart was beating too loudly. He couldn’t stay in one place if they were coming, it would be asking for death, a visit from Darkrai.

Ingo began to run again, but he didn’t get far before running face first into Jack’s chest when rounding a corner. The supersoldier looked relieved.

“Lad, ya look like ya’ve see a ghost.” Atlas said, feigning concern. Ingo knew, they both knew, he must have been laughing, watching Ingo murder so viciously.

Jack, however, had genuine concern in his eyes as he gently placed Ingo’s hat back atop his head. When had he lost that? Likely in the running. The supersoldier pulled him in, holding him firmly, gently...

Comfortingly.

There was so much stress. There was no longer any dam. Ingo balled his glowing eyeballs out, and Jack held him.

“I’m a murderer!” The poor man wailed, making Jack flinch a little at his volume. “A monster, a beast, I murdered!”

“Yeah, e’eryone in Rapture either kills ‘r get kills, lad. We still have-” Atlas was cut off by Jack swiftly shutting off the radio with one hand. But the heartless words made Ingo cry harder.

“I want to go home!” He sobbed, “I don’t belong here! I had a family! I had someone! I miss him! I can’t even remember his name! His face! Almighty Sinnoh, Arceus banish it, why me!? Why did it have to be me!”

Jack rubbed his back gently.

Ingo sobbed.

He sobbed until his body physically could not, despite its attempts, make any more tears.

And Jack held him still.

Until Ingo finally sniffed and pulled away, face red as can be and snot running from his nose. He nodded a thank you to Jack, but couldn’t look the man in the eyes. Not even when the supersoldier placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Ingo just nodded again, supposing he was as close to ready to go as they could afford.

Jack wrapped an arm around Ingo’s shoulders and led him out of the distillery, back into the light of the bar. Luckily for them, no Splicers came to see if there was any loot. Jack moved forward, but Ingo could only just stand in the doorway.

And then he remembered something. There was a pain in his leg. He looked down.

“Arceus banish them!” He said. Not quite yelling, more loudly exasperated. Jack looked over, and only just seemed to realize what happened to Ingo as the injured man hobbled to a nearby seating booth.

“Worse than a Pidove on the tracks!” Ingo said, looking over his leg. Jack was quick to bring over a first aid kit.

When the hook was yanked out, Ingo screamed again. Not quite as loud, but still not pleasant to Jack’s ears.

~~~

Jack was clearly annoyed with Ingo’s loud voice. It was clear by the look on his face. Many people were, Ingo was used to that. But that wasn’t the only thing annoying Jack.

It was Ingo insisting that they move on. And not be carried. And Atlas agreeing with Ingo. It was clear in those bright green eyes. But Ingo pressed on, having grabbed a pipe for a weapon.

“An’ don’t give ‘im a gun. He’ll shoot yer foot.” Atlas added, as Jack picked up his backpack.

“That was one time!” Ingo said, standing by the doorway to leave the bar. He swayed back and forth, trying to keep from putting too much weight on his injured leg.

“Still was me foot.”

“I had warned you that I never handled a firearm before!” Ingo rubbed his eyes. “They are not exactly commonplace in the station I come from!”

Jack just rolled his eyes with a sigh, and walked up to Ingo before taking the lead.

Down through Arcadia’s farmer’s market they went, and a foul odor came to introduce itself to Ingo. It wasn’t the smell of rot, for it was far too chemical. But it was still rank and sour.

“Smell that, Ingo?” Atlas asked, sounding a little cocky. “That’s why I need you an’ th’ lad t’ hurry. We’re gonna suffocate down ‘ere, ‘cause nutty ol’ Ryan killed all those trees.”

“So he is such a vain conductor that if he can’t have his city, no one can!” Ingo shook his head.

“Aye, so it seems.” They could hear Atlas sigh.

“But are you really so surprised?”

“Not one bit.”

Ingo nodded. Jack led him further into the farmer’s market, the sound of buzzing creatures becoming louder as they went behind a counter. They sounded somewhat similar to Combee. They both took a breath- Ingo would hate to encounter a Vespiquen right then- before going through the doors.

“They’re tiny!” Ingo exclaimed.

“Haven’t ya seen a bee b’fore, lad?” Jack looked as confused as Atlas sounded.

“The smallest Pokémon I have ever seen were-!” Suddenly, he couldn’t remember the name of it. He furrowed his brow, trying to recall the name. “An electric type, I think! A man I used to work with, who looked like me, he loved them! I think!” He shook his head. “No, let’s forget it! What do we need from here?”

“Honey.” Atlas said, sounding skeptical. Ingo nodded, before the Irishman added on, “Ya do know what honey is, right?”

“Yes, Combee make that!”

“An’ these’re bees.”

Jack pulled a lever, allowing smoke to slowly dance from the ceiling. Following his lead, Ingo stepped into the hive-filled room, and looked for any samples of honey he could find. He just couldn’t help but admire the tiny size of the creatures, these bees, as Atlas called them. They were smaller than any living thing Ingo had ever seen. He even managed to gently pick one up and hold it gently in his hand. He was in pure awe.

A ticking noise began to get faster, and Ingo dropped the bee onto a table. If these were anything like Combee, they would not be happy about two men looking for their honey when they woke up. Jack just looked back at him with confusion, and went back.

“Jack, they’ll sting you!” Ingo motioned for him to come back to the levers. But the supersoldier just raised an eyebrow.

A bell sounded, and the bees woke up. Ingo was right on his hunch, as they began to swarm Jack, stinging every inch they could reach of him, and then some. Ingo quickly pulled a lever, and the bees around the supersoldier began to disperse. He pulled out a first aid, looking quite shocked and a little mortified.

“I tried to warn you!” Ingo said, cautiously stepping back into the room of hives and began searching again. Jack nodded, shoving a needle of ADAM-based medicine into his leg. The stings all quickly healed up, and he went back to searching as well. It was lucky for them that the two men managed to find the last needed honey sample and book it away from the bees.

“Great, boys!” Atlas exclaimed. “That should be enough. Go get that vector an’ bring these plants back t’ life! I’m feelin’ more an’ more woozy by th’ minute.”

Jack and Ingo both nodded, and rushed their way back to the laboratory of Julia Langford. Ingo was horrified to see her body limp on the floor, numbers written into a thick smog that stained most of the things in the room. Jack seemed to be affected by something, perhaps a lack of fresh oxygen, as his body staggered. He managed to get the vector on it’s way to creation, but collapsed on the floor.

“Jack!?” Ingo rushed over, not quite feeling as light headed. The man was still breathing, but just barely. The same must have happened to Atlas, surely why he wasn’t speaking. This was bad, this was too quick-

“Odd.” A voice over the radio said. “So Atlas’ cockroach found a friend who is as inhuman as it.”

Andrew Ryan...

“Do not touch that vector, parasite. Or you will learn the wrath of-”

“Yes, yes, shut up!” Ingo shouted. “Parasite this, parasite that- go see that therapist Lamb that your friend, Sinclair, has locked up in his prison!” He fumbled with the vector, looking over the control panel at what to do.

“Such gull!” Ryan gasped, “I think I prefer his silent cockroach.”

“You’ve vacuumed out the oxygen here, haven’t you?” Ingo shoved the vector into the control panel, and pulled a lever.

“Clearly, the lack of oxygen here was not working fast enough. Or sure enough.”

“What a fool you are!” Ingo looked at Jack, looking quite worried. “Is this truly the way you want to die?! It’s truly pathetic! Aren’t you supposed to be the “Great” Andrew Ryan?! No one sees anything great about you here, or in how you treat this city! A Pidove could run this city better than you, and it barely even had a brain! Or how about a Slowpoke? Those are well known for taking minutes to react to anything! If I remember correctly, sometimes, an hour!”

Ryan didn’t respond. But Ingo finally started to feel lightheaded. It was odd that it took so long for his body to react to such low oxygen. Perhaps that’s in part because of the partner Pokémon he had before Hisui. Ingo couldn’t remember it very well, but it was a ghost and fire type. Perhaps it rubbed off on him, he thought, as he lowered himself to the floor, with his sore back against the wall.

But Ingo smiled a little, hearing the vector work. His breathing slowly became easier, and he looked over to Jack. The supersoldier began to stir, looking dazed and confused.

“How do you feel?” Ingo asked.

Jack huffed a breathy laugh out, and shook his head.

“I’ll take that as good enough!”

The supersoldier nodded, lifting himself up to match Ingo’s posture.

“Ryan decided to vacuum out the oxygen in here!” Jack’s eyes widened, and he whipped his head to look at the other man. “But I suppose he figured that if there is no oxygen, there is no city, there is no legacy of Andrew Ryan! And men like him simply HAVE to leave a legacy!”

“That’s what happened?” Atlas groaned through the radio. “How come you didn’t pass out?”

Ingo paused, and sighed.

“I suppose the Ghost typing has rubbed off on me!”

“That don’t make any sense.”

“I don’t know how to make it make sense!”

Chapter Text

They took some time to breath in the new air before getting up and deciding it was time to move on. They began walking, but they only got a few steps before Jack gently tapped Ingo’s shoulder. With his attention, the supersoldier made a show of straightening his back. The other man looked at him, then nodded. But when Ingo straightened out his back, there was a concerning sound.

“That didn’t sound good! Or feel good!” He said, minor pain evident in his voice. Jack looked quite concerned as Ingo returned to a slouching posture. “Maybe I’ll just wait to go home and get professional help!”

The supersoldier nodded, and they continued on. Ingo never liked the look of those bathyspheres, but going in with a new friend was slightly comforting. Those stupid bulbs were nothing like the supperior trains. Sure, bathyspheres were private and had a bit more flexibility with where it could go, Ingo thought as he sat down and relaxed, but they had far worse transport capacity and an oxygen issue. Plus, trains had more room for Pokémon battles, within reason. Of course, one wasn’t going to fit a Wailord onto a subway train, but there was far more room than in this cramped little bathysphere.

With his train of thought coming to its last station, Ingo looked over to Jack, hoping to catch a hint of what was going through his head. Jack looked over, and Ingo felt a little awkward.

“A rather small transport vehicle, isn’t it?” He said. Jack nodded.

“I can firmly attest that trains are better!” Jack looked at him with interest, then tilted his head.

“I can’t remember much of my life before Hisui!” Ingo shrugged, “But Rapture has a train system! It has refreshed my memory a bit! I used to be around trains a lot!”

Jack’s interested look turned impressed, and he got a thinking look.

“I think you should ride a train if you get the chance!” Ingo said after a pause. “They’re far larger than these stuffy bathyspheres! And have better views as well!”

Jack nodded with a smile, a look of a promise to ride one. Ingo wasn’t one for smiling often, but twice in a day was a record now.

The supersoldier looked down to his partner’s leg, then motioned to it. Ingo nodded, and adjusted himself so that he could pull up his injured leg for Jack to look over. The supersolider must have decided that the bandages were already too dirty, for he pulled out a first aid kit and began to replace the wraps.

“And I thought Pokémon were dangerous creatures!” Ingo said, hissing as Jack cleaned the undressed wounds. “I don’t know what species I’d consider the worst! Ack, that stings! No, no, don’t use that!”

Jack paused, needle of the ADAM-medicine mere millimeters from Ingo’s leg. He looked concerned and confused.

“Aw, what’s th’ matter, boyo?” Atlas taunted. “It’s jus’ a wee bit ‘o ADAM. Not enough t’ get ya hooked.”

“I refuse to chance it!” Ingo began wrapping his leg up himself. “I have been through too much to risk becoming such a crazed beast!”

“But ya’ve already killed a lass.”

Ingo froze. His hands shook and his heart pounded as images of her bashed skull and brain chunks in water flashed in his mind. His breath became uneven and his mouth became dry. The poor man flinched harshly when Jack placed a gentle hand on his back. The syringe of ADAM-medicine was put away, but that wasn’t the issue now.

Ingo raised his eyes to meet Jack’s. In those green eyes was a comforting calm. Ingo took his leg from the seating, and nodded. Jack murdered too, far more freely. But he wasn’t a monster. He was gentle and kind, fatherly in a way. Ingo took a deep breath.

“I have murdered, but it was out of self defense!” With Jack giving him an encouraging nod, the man felt more confident. “I am no monster! I did not kill for fun or to gain some material item! I am Ingo, I am human, and I am no monster!”

“If that’s what ya wanna say, lad.” Jack shook his head, shutting off the radio for the rest of the bathysphere ride. He looked over to Ingo, who was calming himself with deep breaths.

He looked over to Jack. The radio was off, and the murder wasn’t the only thing that was making Ingo feel like a monster. He sighed deeply, watching as the entrance to the new area grew closer.

But the words, the simple “Atlas isn’t your friend,” were stuck in his throat. Especially when Ingo spotted the camera just above the door. For as much willpower the man had, his desire to live outweighed it. Was it selfish? Probably. But maybe there was a way he could help Jack out of Atlas’ spell in another way.

“I haven’t been out of Arcadia in a year or two, I think!” Ingo said, watching Jack stand up. He looked back at the resting man with some concern. “I didn’t know how to leave the place! I hope I don’t regret it!”

The supersoldier smiled, a breathy laugh escaping him. He reached over and patted Ingo’s shoulder as the bathysphere emerged from the water. The door opened, and they both were already unsettled.

Down from the ceiling came odd statues, their unsettling nature making Ingo limp closer to Jack. The supersoldier instinctually moved closer to Ingo as well. Even Atlas seemed uneasy as he began to explain that Sander Cohen guy. Ingo never liked Cohen, having only met him once. He was very creepy. And Ingo was often the one being called creepy, so he believed that said something about Cohen.

Unfortunately for both of the men now stuck in Fort Frolic, the radio was cutting out. Even Ingo didn’t like that. Bad sign. Worse sign? The door to the bathysphere station was closing behind the two men.

“Almighty Sinnoh, no!” Ingo pounded on the metal, but was pulled back by Jack.

“Ah, that’s better. Atlas, Ryan, Atlas, Ryan, duh da-duh da-DUH.” Ingo’s whole demeanor dropped. He wasn’t one to wish for death, oh no. That was cruel. He just had thought, prayed, and deeply hoped he’d never meet Cohen ever again. “Time was you could get something decent on the radio.”

“You’re not decent in the slightest!” Ingo said, forgetting to put on a filter.

“Why... Oh, I remember you. Such an interesting looking man with those absolutely pathetic sideburns.” Cohen hissed, his sneer as audible as Ingo’s screams earlier.

But the remark made the man pause, and bring a hand to the side of his face. How DID he manage to get it so sharp originally? The angles had faded by now, too overgrown to be styled like Ingo wanted. It seems another memory was plagued by mist.

“Now, I do know you have no bone of artistry in your body, dear little Conductor. But let’s see if your little Moth friend has any, or if he’s just another Johnny-come-lately.” Even Jack looked uneasy, especially when the Spider Splicers started towards them. Ingo clung to his pipe and sincerely hoped he wouldn’t need to use it. It would be great if he could keep the blood on his hands down to only one person. Please, Arceus?

It seemed Jack didn’t want Ingo in the fray either, as he shielded the man with his own body. Shocking and shooting any Splicer that made themselves known, no mercy was extended to the bloodthirsty former-humans. And thankfully, none made it past the supersoldier.

It felt a little embarrassing for Ingo, to be so unable to defend himself. Had Lady Sneasler taught him nothing? She’d be absolutely ashamed- but then promptly help Ingo heal and teach him some of her ways of self defense.

“Nicely done, where did you study, little Moth?” Cohen asked, bringing Ingo out of his thoughts. Both men sighed, and shared a look of discomfort between each other. But Jack just shook his head and carried on. Ingo took a second to muster up enough willpower to follow. For as much as he generally seemed to have, this was the one place it seemed to dwindle.

Splicers came down on Jack, though, making Ingo grateful that he’d taken a moment. However, he couldn’t help but feel useless, as the supersoldier did what he was made to do- plow down any mortal creature that stood in his way. So, the human man looked around for any supplies he could toss Jack’s way instead.

As luck would have it, Jack was patting his belt for any Hypos. Fresh out. But that faint blue glow was unmistakable to Ingo’s eyes, and Ingo’s voice was unmistakable to Jack’s ears.

“Catch!” He didn’t need to yell to be heard, as he threw over the Hypo. It was graciously caught and quickly used, the final Splicers being quickly dispatched with plasmids at Jack’s side.

Standing back from the battle, yet still aiding, brought back such a familiar feeling to Ingo. So unmistakable to any Pokémon trainer. Victoriously, Ingo straightened up and pointed, the motion feeling natural and almost stress relieving.

Jack looked back and smiled, giving an approving nod.

“I can’t do much, but I suppose I can do that!” Ingo said, coming over to his partner. The supersoldier nodded again, patting Ingo’s slouched back firmly.

“Ohhhh, I can smell the malt and vinegar on this one.” Both men paused as Cohen purred into his microphone. “I’ve waited so long for something tasty to come to this little burg, but all that pass are yokels and rubes... Where are my manners? Come in! Come in! Sander Cohen awaits you... at the Fleet Hall!”

With a sigh, Ingo shook his head and began to walk.

“It’s a bad idea to keep this man waiting!” He said to Jack, who gave him an odd look. “He has a short temper! And morals worse than... Well, you’ll know!”

“Such a loud man! Shut your mouth, little Conductor! Unless you’d like to be an example for our little Moth.” Jack clearly didn’t like that, putting an arm across Ingo’s chest protectively. If looks could kill, Ingo would bet Cohen a dead man from Jack’s glare alone. But, looks were looks, and they had a location to go to.

As they walked, Cohen’s words echoed in Ingo’s brain. “Conductor.” Like a train conductor. And he remembered being around trains a lot. Perhaps he had been a conductor. But that seemed rather prestigious for someone like him... He just wished he could remember something that seemed so simple.

At the top of the stairs, Ingo was brought out of his thoughts by Jack extending an arm to stop him from going further. And then he heard it, the unmistakable, miserable groans of a Big Daddy. Jack slowly crept closer with his thumb slowly cocking his pistol, so Ingo yanked his sweater.

“Are you mad!?” Ingo hissed, trying, for once, to be a little quieter. But if Jack raising a finger to his lips was anything to go by, he only partially succeeded, at best.

“That thing will gut you!” The man shook his head, ignoring the supersoldier’s motion. “It’s nothing short of a death wish! You’re running in front of a freight train if you try to fight that!”

Jack motioned for Ingo to calm down. A slightly cocky look was on his face.

“You ran out of EVE just now, and had to use most of a refill!” Ingo countered. “You do not have the supplies to fight a Big Daddy!”

Jack shrugged, and holstered his pistol. Instead, he pulled out a shotgun.

“No, that does not comfort me in the slightest! I will not let you walk to your death like this!”

Jack pointed to the Little Sister, wearily walking past a doorway. Ingo’s shock and anger calmed down. He felt terrible for those little girls, often talked about as if they were nothing more than beasts. Well, they most certainly weren’t, they were just brainwashed little kids.

“Jack, I want to help them, too!” Ingo lowered his head until the brim of his hat covered his eyes. “But they are better off with a Big Daddy that can protect them! Without a Big Daddy, they would be sitting ducks for Splicers!”

The supersoldier put a hand on Ingo’s shoulder and smiled reassuringly, but the man only looked at Jack with a shocked and concerned look. It was slightly disturbed, too, which seemed to make Jack realize something. He brought up his hand, switching through his plasmids, but without words, it would just serve as a miscommunication.

“No! Y-You can’t!” But Jack was superhuman, and sighed as he disregarded Ingo’s attempts to hold him back. The attempts were quickly given up on as the Big Daddy was closer.

Ingo couldn’t watch the carnage, he could only unwillingly listen in at the gunshots and wails from the Big Daddy. When he mustered up the will to peak, the man was horrified to spot Jack on his back, the breath knocked out of him, and the Big Daddy reeling back his drill to impale the supersoldier with.

“No!” Ingo cried out, rushing to intercept. He tackled the drill arm of the Daddy, allowing it to miss the mark, but he was thrown all too quickly. Jack had barely managed to get to his hands and knees when the massive beast kicked him down and reeled back again. Ingo didn’t have time to try to intervene again, as Jack’s skull was impaled, chunks of bone, scalp, and brain sent flying.

“Jack!” He wailed.

“Get him, Daddy!” Shouted a young voice.

Shakily, Ingo raised his head as the Big Daddy turned to look at him.

Almighty Sinnoh, Arceus banish him for being so stupid on impulse.

“Wait, no, I didn’t want to cause any trouble!” He tried, slowly backing away in the hopes that he’d be seen as a non-threat, only for his poor back to be met with concrete.

The Daddy came charging, giving Ingo mere seconds to jump away. He was almost quick to his feet, but the sound of the drill revving made him give up. There was no way to outrun an angry Big Daddy. Ingo curled himself into a ball, bringing his hat down over his eyes. The man prayed that death would be quick. Oh, how he’d give to be anywhere but here. Even the top of that stairwell would be nice. Just before this mess.

His body suddenly felt fuzzy and light. Ingo didn’t expect the worst pain of his life to feel like this. Or to then feel like falling down a staircase.

Oh wait, Ingo thought when he finally stopped moving. He was falling down a staircase.

The Big Daddy on the floor above him gave out a frustrated cry, his Little Sister yelling something about “X’ing” someone’s eyes.

Ingo’s eyes were wide as he slowly sat up, and then got to his feet. He immediately regretted getting to his feet when the Daddy jumped from the railing to just a few yards away. Confusion could wait, survival drive kicked in. Ingo ran.

He just barely managed to get to the right enough to avoid the Big Daddy’s charge when it was suddenly shocked by lightning. And in came Ingo’s saving grace, Jack. The poor man couldn’t believe his eyes as the supersoldier went to town on the Big Daddy, shooting it with bullets and plasmids alike to just get it down, and especially with Electrobolt to keep it from moving.

But Jack didn’t have enough EVE. The electrocution wore off, and the angered beast turned to look to his assailant. Luckily for Jack, a properly placed shot from his shotgun shattered the glass of the Big Daddy’ helmet, and it finally dropped.

There was a pause as everything calmed.

“Almighty Sinnoh, how are you alive?!” Broke the silence, as did quick footsteps and the sound of two bodies forcibly meeting.

Jack looked surprised to be caught in a sudden hug. He patted Ingo’s back anyway, slowly and awkwardly.

“I thought you died just then!”

The supersoldier slowly nodded.

“You... You HAD died?”

Another nod.

“You’re hooked up to the Vita-Chambers?!”

A shrug and confused nod.

“Almighty Sinnoh, how!?” Ingo took off his hat and ran his fingers through long, disheveled hair that very much needed a proper cleaning. “No one is allowed to be hooked up to those! Not since Ryan got paranoid, at least! How did you manage?!”

Jack suddenly got a worried look. He... Didn’t know. The supersoldier shook his head, and began climbing the stairs. Ingo had a ping of worry reach his chest. Again, though, he could not stop Jack, despite his attempts.

They both ended up at the top of the stairwell, the sound of sniffled and stifled sobs coming from nearby. When he saw Jack’s hand light up with an unfamiliar plasmid, Ingo let go of his sweater.

In the crook of a wall, they saw the little girl, just before she tried to hide away deeper in it.

“Jack, what are you about to do?” Ingo asked calmly. The supersoldier could just show his hand. It was either going to be very good for her, or some sort of euthinasia. With a sigh, Ingo supposed that both options would be moral enough for this underworld of Darkrai’s creation. He stepped aside to let Jack do... Whatever it would be.

He watched as the large man made his way to the broken concrete, and tried to reach inside to grab the girl. But Jack was too bulky, and the girl was too nimble, as the supersoldier backed away empty handed, looking concerned.

“Let me try!” Ingo said with a sigh.

Jack stepped aside, and Ingo approached, kneeling before the hole in the wall. The situation seemed... Oddly familiar. The flash of a different setting came before his eyes, a different child stuck in somewhere that adults couldn’t reach. Gravel beneath his feet, a black drain pipe before him. A concrete wall that was awfully tall, painted with odd letters.

“Hello, my name is Ingo!” He tried to say as calmly as he could, even attempting to lower his volume. The little girl just looked at him, fear evident in those glowing eyes.

“Are you scared?”

The little girl nodded.

“Yeah, I imagine you must be! We’re not here to hurt you!” Ingo said, smiling a little to look less threatening. “What is your name?”

“Marry.” The girl muttered.

“Marry?” Ingo repeated. “That is a very nice name to have.” The image flashed before his eyes again, a strange scent of some sort of oil coming to his mind. He took a deep breath, and took his hat from his head once more.

“Many other children enjoy trying on my hat!” Ingo said, the words coming to him like clockwork. “Would you like to try it on, Marry?”

Marry looked at the offer, but seemed unsure. The natural curiosity of a child won her over, however, as she came forth to take the hat. She didn’t emerge from the hole, but she had become close enough to reach, as her little hands cautiously took the offering and placed it on her head.

“Hm, I think you look nice in it!” Ingo said.

“Do I?” Marry looked at him with wide eyes, still welling with tears a bit.

“Yes, I do believe so! Come on out, let us get a better look to be sure!”

Marry nodded, slowly climbing out of the wall. Once emerged, she looked at Ingo with a big smile on her unsure face, and he returned it with a nod.

Jack was gentle to grab her shoulders, slipping his hand under Ingo’s hat with the activated plasmid. Despite the attempts to be gentle, Marry still struggled, knocking the hat off her head. Ingo didn’t pick it up, too in awe as the veins over the little girl’s body began to glow. In a bright flash of light, she looked just like a normal little girl, straightening her dress and giving Jack a curtsy and a “thank you”, before she ran off and climbed into a nearby vent.

“I’m sorry!” Ingo said, looking back to the supersoldier picking up his hat for him. “I wasn’t aware there was a cure for them! I... I thought the only thing that could be done for the Little Sisters was either to leave them alone, or-”

A firm pat on the shoulder and a large smile told Ingo that it was alright, Jack understood. They nodded to each other, before continuing on with Cohen’s task.

“No, no, no!” They heard that cursed man cry as they entered the elevator of the Fleet Hall. Which, admittedly, wasn’t really made to carry two 6 foot men in it. But they made it work, neither really wanted to leave each other’s side.

“Mr. Cohen, please!” A voice pleaded, sounding exasperated and tired. The two men walked into the stage seating, and were mortified to see a man playing the piano, his legs covered in plaster, and surrounded by a concerning overkill amount of explosives.

“Silence! Allegro... Allegro! Do, Do, Do, Do, Do, DA, Presto... Presto! No! No! Once again, young Fitzpatrick.” Cohen demanded. Ingo and Jack shared a look, very deeply concerned. The man at the piano stood up, started to shout in opposition, but the explosives cut off Fitzpatrick’s protests rather violently.

“I told you!” Ingo said, watching as Jack took a nervous gulp. At the announcement of their arrival, Cohen spoke up again.

“Come down now, little moth. Life, death... The burden of the artist is to. capture! See young Fitzpatrick here on the stage, Use your camera, take him as he is now... so I may remember him.”

Again, the two men shared an uneasy look.

“Might as well, if it means we’ll depart from here easier and sooner!” Ingo said, straightening up to point at the stage. Jack took a breath, and nodded. It was clear he wanted to get out just as much.

While Jack was busy taking a picture of the corpse, Ingo thought back to the Big Daddy. How had he managed to end up from beneath the mercy of one of those things to falling down a stairwell? Seemingly just by thinking about it, too. It was like he suddenly learned the move Teleport. But that was silly, he was Ingo, a human, not a little Abra.

Unless.

Unless what, he asked himself. Were humans also able to learn Pokémon moves? But that didn’t seem right. Humans and Pokémon seemed so different, how could a human learn a psychic move of all things? Except, weren’t there trainers that could? His brain was so fuzzy, it was deeply frustrating. When would a clear memory finally come to Ingo’s fog-filled brain?

He gave a sorrowful sigh as Jack came back, ignoring what that creep on the radio was saying. Ingo supposed if he really did learn to teleport, he could try it out later, when they weren’t at the mercy of the roulette wheel that was Sander Cohen.

Carefully, they walked back to the atrium, back down the stairs. Ingo kept looking to the ceiling, unsettled by the spotlight that followed Jack around.

“Do you see it? When I am dust, this is what they’ll point to! Go ahead, don’t be afraid, touch it.” As Cohen spoke, statues holding large photograph frames rose from a small stage. So close now, Ingo’s stomach felt like a pit. The splattering of plaster around the figures, and poor Fitzpatrick’s own plastered legs, made him think these statues weren’t quite carved. Jack looked just as nervous, placing the photograph in one of the frames.

“Yes, and there’s Fitzpatrick, freed of his own kinks and defects. And here’s the glorious news... This is just the moment of conception... Out in this place, there are three men, all former disciples of mine, all connected by a common thread... Betrayal. Find them, little Moth, and immortalize their morality in my quadtych. Go. Once they’ve been sent to their reward, you shall go to yours... And To Ryan.”

Jack looked at the camera in his hands, then offered it to Ingo, thinking that Cohen was done.

“No! No, no, no! Do not give such a valuable tool to such an insolent man, little Moth!” Barked the artist. “This is OUR collaboration, he is not included! It’s enough that the Conductor follows you around so uselessly.”

“Alright, alright, I won’t help Jack out!” Ingo raised his hands, and Jack held the camera close to his body. “Just stop monologuing already, and we’ll be on our way!”

“As soon as you stop shouting, little Conductor, I will be more than glad to silence myself.” Both the men in the atrium rolled their eyes. “But I am quite aware you can’t shut your own mouth, so it seems it will be another day that we’ll finally come to an agreement.”

“I don’t yell!” Ingo grumbled. “It’s just my natural volume!” Jack put a hand on his shoulder, and ushered him on, nodding in agreement. Yeah, if anyone knew Ingo didn’t have volume control, it was the man he couldn’t remember the name of, and Jack.

Back up the stairs they went, to find the former disciples. In a silent agreement, they both knew their roles. Jack was the fighter, Ingo was the supplier. In being out in the wild for so long, and then in Rapture, Ingo’s eyes became especially good at spying the little items. Three little EVE Hypos he found, and three little EVE Hypos Jack graciously took, until they came to the entrance of an area absolutely covered in ice.

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t get rid of these clothes!” Ingo grumbled. “I’ve about had it with the cold, though!” Jack gave him a playfully jealous look in response. The both of them chuckled, and stepped into the icy tunnel.

It was dark and slightly damp, vaguely like the cave tunnels back in Hisui. It was oddly comforting in a way, likely because Hisui was far more welcoming than Rapture. A bit more deadly, though, considering that a wrong left turn could leave you in an unfortunate encounter with an Alpha Garchomp. But at least a Garchomp was, well, a Pokémon, a wild creature mainly acting on instinct. It wasn’t a crazed Splicer thirsting for violence and drugs.

“I can see your breath!”

Speak of Giratina. Just their luck, as the bodies of Jack and Ingo began to freeze over. Ingo didn’t know what was worse- frozen by a Froslass, or frozen by a Splicer. Both were about equally as likely to lead to death, he supposed. Maybe the Froslass was somewhat better, because at least she eats men, and doesn’t just leave them to rot. Morbid, but ah, what isn’t these days?

Up in Jack’s face, the Splicer disciple said, “I’ve got a pose all picked out for you.” How ominous. If only Ingo was someplace warmer, then maybe he could find something to help free Jack. But before he could think of someplace, he was frozen.

He did begin to thaw quite quickly, however.

Only Ingo’s eyelids could move at first, numb and chilled. He had been left behind. Of course he was, but surely that would mean Ingo could sneak out and help Jack thaw as well. He could barely feel his fingers as they began to move again. Partially, he even thought he’d get frostbite. But maybe, the same thing that allowed Ingo to survive low oxygen would aid him here.

His steps were soft.

Ingo’s clothing was made for the cold, but it could not hold off the freezing that he felt in his bones. He had someone he needed to find, both here and in a different place and time. The man would not let a few pesky Splicers stop him.

Ingo was not going to die and rot in Rapture.

So he stumbled along, his body slowly growing used to the frigid temperatures. It would not stop the man. Not even when he came face to face with bodies that were frozen in time. Grotesque statues that looked almost right in place in a Froslass den. In the middle, Jack was still frozen, his limbs being manipulated by a Splicer that looked quite distinct from the others. It must have been another former disciple.

Ingo knew he couldn’t take him on alone, but his foggy brain did not care.

A stomp of his boot alerted the man, who turned to look. Ingo straightened his back and pointed.

“That is quite enough!” He said. “This is our crossing now!”

“Oh, what do we have here?” The former disciple growled, a putrid smile clawing onto the masked face.

“A man who is tired! But refuses to break down without a standing first!”

He knew it was a dumb plan. A plan was a plan, though.

Ingo focused on the area behind the Splicer as he reared up an icy plasmid. The man’s vision became oddly blurry as the image he saw quickly changed.

“One of those Houdini’s, are you?” The Splicer asked, looking around for the signature cloud of red mist.

Ingo didn’t respond, instead wrapping his arm around the assailant's neck, pulling into it as much as he could. The Splicer struggled, freezing nails digging into the thick cloth of Ingo’s sleeves. Finding that futile, he began to struggle wildly, knocking the hat from Ingo’s head and both men to the ground.

Yet Ingo did not let go. He could not allow himself to stop.

The clawing hands grew weaker, but fear just helped Ingo to tighten his hold on the Splicer’s neck, pulling his forearm more and more with his free hand.

Ingo did not let go until the arms dropped and the Splicer’s eyes rolled back.

He pushed the Splicer off of him before standing. Ingo looked over to Jack, who seemed to finally be thawing himself. The supersoldier looked over to Ingo, vague confusion on his face.

“Jack, are you alright?” Ingo asked, taking a few steps.

He knew he let go too soon.

The splicer grabbed his leg, dropping Ingo to the floor.

He barked a laugh in Ingo’s face, straddling the man’s chest and socking his jaw. Ingo could feel his blood cling to his face, freezing onto it.

“I’ll bash your brains in!” The Splicer snarled, socking poor Ingo again.

A gunshot rang out, and the Splicer slumped down onto Ingo. Blood pooled onto the man and the floor. Jack pulled the corpse off, and offered a hand to his friend. It took a moment for it to be accepted. The supersoldier took a moment to make sure Ingo was stable on his feet before pulling out his camera.

“That was sorely disappointing.” Cohen hissed over the loudspeakers. “If that little Conductor friend of yours hadn’t interrupted, little Moth, you would have put on quite the show! Fine, whatever, just get that photograph for the quadtych. Dwelling on mistakes is how art dies.”

Jack was quick to snap the photograph, and turned to Ingo to pat his shoulder comfortingly. The gesture was returned with a dazed look. The supersoldier sighed worriedly, and hefted Ingo over his shoulder while also grabbing his hat, aiming to leave the area for a first aid station.

On his first step past some of the frozen Splicers, it seemed the two men had simply gotten lucky so far. Multiple of the ones around them burst into action, shards of ice flying off their bodies. Jack tried to shoot around them, but one of the Splicer’s own bullets hit Ingo’s back. It seemed to bring him back to reality, as the man grabbed onto Jack quite tightly, squeezing his eyes shut.

Ingo thought of the area just before the icy tunnels as bullets flew around all of them. It was further than he’d done so far, but if Abra’s could teleport impressive distances, then Arceus banish him, Ingo could, too.

Suddenly the gunshots became distant. Ingo opened an eye, and welcomed the relieving sight of normal, water-logged, non-iced walls.

“It worked!” He said, lifting himself on Jack’s shoulder. But sudden pain shot through his body, making him go a little limp with a yelp.

With the sound of pain, the supersoldier was off, racing towards the nearest first aid station he could find. Once there and Ingo was on the ground, he could see the confusion and worry in Jack’s eyes.

“It’s not ADAM!” Ingo managed, before a whimper escaped him as Jack dug into the bullet wound with tweezers. Looking over, he could see minor disbelief on the supersoldier’s face. Ingo opened his mouth to say something, but he cried out instead as a flair of pain washed over him. It was clear he thought Ingo was lying.

“How do you manage to get shot so much? This hurts worse than a burn from-!” Ingo hissed, hiding his face in his hat as Jack cleaned the wound. “I can’t even remember the Pokémon!” It was frustrating. He knew he couldn’t just chock it up to the pain, it was Ingo’s amnesia. It was a Pokémon that seemed dear, seemed important. Just like that man... It was frustrating, the stress of it combined with the pain and panic made Ingo want to cry.

Crying would have to wait, however, as he heard Jack quickly get up and draw his weapon. Splicers were drawing near. Great. Whatever, Ingo got up despite his pain. He was going to be useful to Jack, Arceus banish them. Ingo wasn’t just going to be a tagalong.

He looked around as Jack began to shoot. The area they were in was far more advantageous, with only one way for the enemy Splicers to come from. It would be harder for them to overwhelm the supersoldier with their numbers.

They were quickly taken care of, with Ingo having found some much needed ammunition for Jack. But the look the supersoldier gave Ingo- a scowl with hands on his hips- the man knew he owed an explanation.

“I am not on ADAM!” Ingo crossed his arms. “You can test me for it, and you will not find any in my system!”

Jack raised an eyebrow. He gave a huff, then motioned around them.

“For me to explain, I will first need to explain Pokémon further.”

Jack motioned for him to go ahead.

“They are not simply those bees from Arcadia!” Ingo shook his head. “They are far more! They are strange creatures with unique and odd powers compared to humans! And not just simply animals- plants and seemingly inanimate objects can be Pokémon, and so can the dead! Humans evolved with Pokémon, from Pokémon! Normally, it doesn’t seem as though we can use the same powers that they can, but...! I suppose this destination has done something to allow me to use the move Teleport! A psychic type move often associated with a Pokémon called Abra!”

Jack looked Ingo up and down. He stepped closer, and gently grabbed the man’s chin again, looking at the glowing eyes. The supersoldier’s look of disbelief became one of concern. Did it really sound that outlandish? Did Jack not look around and see what the humans around him were capable of through simple genetic modification?

“I can elaborate further-!” A shake of Jack’s head cut the man off, who just nodded in reply. With a sigh from Ingo, they started to move on, back down to the morbid sculpture. Ingo’s limp was more pronounced now, however, as his step sent more pain through his body, almost more than he could handle. But any hissed, yelps, or screams were swallowed to keep from drawing any Splicers their way.

It was a wonder he was even alive, in Ingo’s eyes. It was barely believable that he had managed two years in Arcadia, and only just now was obtaining multiple severe injuries during his waking hours.

Jack placed the photograph in another frame, stepping back uneasily as an amused Cohen came over the radio once more.

“Yes! Now put the picture in the frame! Let’s see what we’ve got here! It’s coming together... yes- but there will always be Doubters. You don’t doubt me, do you? I could never stomach Doubsters. Like your friend there.”

Ingo had just been about to take a seat on the steps of the staircase when he paused. That did not sound good.

“Yes, not one for art, is he?” Cohen mused, drawn out in a thinking manner. “Just look at that symbol on his dress. Oh, and what a fashion sin he would be conducting. If there was someone alive that cared, that is.”

“It is a symbol meant to represent members of the Pearl Clan!” Ingo shot back. “And I am not wearing a dress! But I would not expect a man like yourself to care for such nuance!” He looked to the ceiling, thoroughly fed up. Fed up with it all. The mocking, the taunting, the poor memory, the injury, the hurt... It all hurt.

No one understood, either.

They would never understand. He realized that in Hisui, but it hit him like a freight train here.

Tears welled in his eyes as Jack came over, taking the poor man in his arms. Cohen was spitting something from his cursed mouth, but Ingo’s mind just blocked it out with worse words.

He’d never get back home. There was no hope. Why did he continue to fight for something so futile, so far away? It was out of his hands where he went, why would they be in his hands to decide when to return? It was a fool’s errand. He had nothing, there was nothing to Ingo’s name but the hat on his head and the clothes on his back. Even then, they were waterlogged, bloodstained, muddy, ripped and torn. Just as he was himself. They were just reminders of how ridiculously he stuck out in the best of times. Stuck out in Hisui, stuck out in Rapture. Wherever he ended up next, if he somehow managed to not die here, he’d stick out still.

A hand moved up to his head, ruffling his hair but shielding him. Ingo looked up at that gentle, worried face. Those green eyes filled with some sort of understanding.

Ingo had Jack. Back in Hisui, he had Lady Sneasler, too.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bleak.

Ingo supposed that life wasn’t so bad with Lady Sneasler. She had taken him in, taught him many things on how to survive- how to fish from a stream with his hands and to not stop until the opponent had long since stopped moving for self defense. He’d learned, but he never truly learned. All the same, Ingo had her to turn to, and he protected her from fearful humans in return.

And now without her, he had someone to fill a similar role. Jack wasn’t so human, he was strange, too. In those eyes, in that young brow, Ingo could see it, cogs working.

Ingo nodded his thank you, his voice too loud to speak with. They weren’t like the humans of this world, but so be it. If... If Ingo couldn’t return to the place he belonged, to the man whose ghostly spectre loomed over his mind, then he supposed he’d be satisfied getting the Distortion World out of this accursed doll house, and seeing the sun again with someone that actually cared about his well being.

“Are you finished wasting time on that pitiful, pathetic man, little Moth?” Cohen spat. In turn, Ingo lowered his head until the brim of his hat covered his eyes. But Jack just held him closer, more protectively. “We have a collaboration to work on, mind you. My muse is fickle, get back to it!”

A gunshot made Ingo flinch. He looked up, just to see Jack had shot one of the spotlights, and was cocking his pistol to shoot the other.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Cohen cried out. “You’re not a moth, are you? Why, you’re no better than that blasted freak you hold in your arms!”

Ingo could see Jack smile, proud of himself as the other spotlight was snuffed out swiftly by a dose of high-speed lead.

“If he means that much to you!” The artist barked. But the rest didn’t come from the radio.

“Then I shall teach you what truly makes art! The artist has no lovers, no family, no friends! And the loss of them fuels their brightest creations!”

Both men turned to the stairs, utterly surprised. But Jack stepped in front of Ingo, who was spying around for any supplies. He was suddenly pushed to the ground as the supersoldier ducked to the other side, a ball of fire barely missing the both of them.

“Almighty Sinnoh, why did we have to stop at this dilapidated destination?” Ingo groaned, beelining for beneath the stairs. A dive just barely saved him from being severely burned, but the ball still skimmed the long collar of his jacket, spreading a few flames there. The man dropped his jacket to the floor as gunshots rang out, surely Jack trying to get Cohen off Ingo’s back. It hurt to do the motions, both physically and mentally, as he stomped on his jacket to put out the flames. Luckily, it wasn’t terribly damaged.

Unluckily, a Splicer caught him off guard and tackled poor Ingo, sending a horrid pain up his leg and across his back. He didn’t even get a chance to cry out before the breath was knocked out of his lungs.

The Splicer flipped Ingo onto his back with force that made the man’s body scream in pain. As he caught the pipe aimed at his head with his hands, Ingo was made slightly more grateful for his time in Hisui. If he hadn’t, he’d likely be dead at this very moment.

The two of them grappled over the lead pipe, neither one managing to outdo the other. While the Splicer had ADAM, Ingo had adrenaline and a blatant desire to just live a little bit longer. But through a clever maneuver, the Splicer managed to get Ingo’s hands above his head, his own grip pinning the appendaged to the floor he laid on.

“Now you’re in quite the predicament, huh?” The Splicer grinned, bringing his face far too close to Ingo’s. The pinned man looked around, but it seemed there was a minor blood bath going on. It wasn’t safe to teleport. Ingo grimace as the Splice brought that grotesque face even closer, saying, “Your head would look beautiful on my wall.”

No.

No, Ingo was not going to die.

Their noses nearly touched- and Ingo’s own nose was rather shallow. Those filthy teeth smiled at him, bared and ready. It was too close, too dangerous, too deadly.

The ADAM-addicted mouth began to open, triggering something within Ingo. His own mouth began to hurt more than usual as he lunged what he could of his body forward, clamping his own jaws onto the jugular of the Splicer that pinned him. In a vain attempt to escape, the Splicer ended up just pulling his flesh apart as Ingo’s jaws held fast. The addict couldn’t scream, gurgles being the only sound as he struggled away from the man he had pinned, attempting to swallow a fresh breath but only managing to swallow his own blood.

Ingo looked on, horrified.

Slowly, he opened his mouth, feeling blood and the chuckle of stolen flesh fall out and onto his lap.

He couldn’t look anywhere but at that Splicer, still struggling to breathe.

No.

No, almighty Sinnoh, he couldn’t have.

He... He did it again.

It felt like hours that he just sat there and stared, as the sounds of battle around Ingo raged and died down. A hand placed gently on his shoulder brought Ingo out of his shock, which was announced with a yelp and punch to Jack’s face.

“Almighty Sinnoh, I’m so sorry!” Ingo covered his mouth, shocked at his own actions. Jack waved him off, rubbing his cheek. Ingo stared at him as Jack took off his backpack and offered a spare jar of distilled water to his friend. It was shakily taken, and used to wash out the blood-ridden mouth. It was a foul taste, one that Ingo would not soon forget. Oh, how he wished for a Pokémon to rewrite his memory to forget this whole ordeal.

“Jack...! I... I’m a monster!” Ingo’s breathing became uneven and shallow. Despite the supersoldier shaking his head, Ingo turned away, holding himself. He dropped the half-used jar of water as he did so.

With a sigh, Jack tried to wrap an arm around Ingo, but the man flinched away, sniffling and crying oddly quietly. The supersoldier was stubborn, forcing Ingo into a hug anyway and holding him tightly, despite the attempts to break out.

Ingo couldn’t fight him about it.

“I’m such a monster!” He sobbed into Jack’s shoulder, feeling the muscles beneath the sweater move as the supersoldier shook his head.

“But I am!” Again, Ingo tried to fight out of Jack’s grip. “Humans don’t bite and tear out throats! Beasts do! Monsters do! Oh almighty Sinnoh, Arceus banish me!” The attempts to escape were quickly given up on, however. Instead, Ingo just melted into Jack’s hold, sobbing into that blood-stained sweater he wore. A few pats on the back proceeded being picked up like a child, and, looking up, Ingo saw that Jack was heading to the bathysphere, the docking port now open to them.

The man felt like a child as the supersoldier placed him onto the seats, leaving the backpack with Ingo as he went back into Fort Frolic. The man could only assume it was to take care of any Little Sisters.

Chapter Text

Ingo could only nod as Jack returned to the bathysphere.

“Ah, so that’s where th’ lad went.” Atlas’ voice came through the radio still on Jack’s hip, and Ingo just lowered his head. “Oh, now what’s got Ingo lookin’ so down?”

Ingo gripped the edge of his Pearl Clan tunic harshly, his already pale knuckles draining of color completely. Jack sighed at the sight of his friend, and got the bathysphere moving to the next area.

Silence was the only thing that plagued the ears of the two men in that sphere, until Atlas spoke up again.

“Ingo?” He asked, earning a huff in response. “Lad, I’m sorry fer earlier. I was prodin’ ya a wee bit when I shouldn’t have been.”

What an understatement.

Instead of responding, Ingo just adjusted his position on the seating, bringing his legs up and laying down, maneuvering his hat to atop his face.

“Really, now?”

A middle finger was extended, directed at the camera just above the door.

“Jack, what’s got th’ lad in such a grump o’ a mood?”

The other man didn’t seem to respond in any way, as another pause came to grasp the bathysphere once more. But Atlas, ever the invoker, clearly wasn’t content with that.

“Well, yer headin’ up to Hephaestus.”

Ingo shifted. He hadn’t wanted to stir and give Atlas a response, but they couldn’t really be heading to that place, right?

He lifted the brim of his hat and peaked at the lever.

Wrong.

The man’s heart dropped. That would be a death trap, a complete and utter death trap. So Ingo slowly sat up.

“Jack!” The supersolder looked to the other man in the sphere. “I cannot go to Hephaestus with you!”

“What? Aw, c’mon, lad!” The faux encouragement dripped from the words like a Muk’s goop. It grated Ingo’s ears.

“We both know that I would not survive!” He shook his head, unable to look the confused supersoldier in the eye. “It is the heart of Rapture, Jack!” Ingo sighed, feeling guilt grip him. Truthfully, he didn’t want to abandon the only friend he had.

And that’s why he didn’t want to go.

“I am not on the rails for the Vita-Chambers!” Ingo continued, standing up. “I would most certainly die! I have already been grievously wounded, and that was just in the regular areas of Rapture! Hephaestus is far more armored and protected! I’m so very sorry, Jack!” He walked over to the large window of the door, watching the underwater scenery pass by.

Through the reflection on the glass, Ingo watched as Jack got up and came over to him. A hand was placed on the dark, warn cloth of Ingo’s jacket, and the supersoldier nodded.

The only sound was a deep breath.

The man turned to face Jack without looking him in the face. Ingo reached to the supersoldier’s belt, and turned off the radio.

“I fear saying too much, but before we split- because we will be splitting up as soon as we dock, I have something I absolutely need to tell you!” He took a deep breath. “He is listening in and constantly watching! Atlas is! I don’t know if he could in Fort Frolic, but he most certainly is at this destination! Please, do not turn the radio back on until I leave!”

Jack gave a look of disbelief. But, clearly wishing to hear what Ingo had to say, nodded.

“He is not your friend!”

The supersoldier pulled himself back, giving Ingo a look of pure awe and disbelief, even a little anger. He looked the other man up and down, clearly trying to figure out where the audacity came from.

“Jack, listen to me! You are going to learn a HORRIBLE truth! If I felt I could make it out with my life, I would tell you, I swear to almighty Sinnoh!” Ingo sighed shakily, and looked Jack in the eye. “I’m so very sorry! I want to tell you more, I dearly do, but I cannot! I know, it’s- It must be very selfish of myself, but I’ve come so far!”

He looked down to his feet, the weight of Jack’s anger and confusion in his eyes being too much for Ingo to bear.

“I’m sorry! I just- I don’t want it to hurt as much when you find out!”

By then, the bathysphere had docked at Hephaestus’ port, the door wide open to the lobby. Jack looked from the room to Ingo, and stepped out. He forced the bathysphere closed, and sent it off.

Ingo just stood there, unable to look at Jack as he disappeared into the ocean.

“I will not be your toy, Atlas!” Ingo sniffled. “So I hope you’re happy with my despair now! Revel in my tears while you may! For our rails will meet again, and only one of us will win the tracks!”

Ominous laughter came on through a loudspeaker.

“Ahh, you’re a clever guy, ain’t you?” The drawl was annoyingly slow, and the accent far different from any Ingo had ever heard. “Did you figure it out yourself, Ingo? Do you remember how you came here, then?”

Ingo looked up, took a few steps, staring into the camera.

“Ahhhhh, I see. A lil’ dunce like ya, I ain’t surprised. Ya didn’t figure this whole sha-bang out yourself, huh?”

Maybe not, but a lot of pieces come together with just a little push, sometimes.

“Frank Fontaine!” Ingo staggered back.

“The one an’ only, kid.” A sneering growl of a laugh came through, chilling the poor man’s bones. “Once I get my hands on the keys to this place, I’ll send ya back where you belong. Hope you don’t mind that it’ll be in a box.”

Morbidly, Ingo considered it for a split second.

“That is, if you can keep Jack from setting things right!” He stomped his feet together, straightening up and pointing. “He is very clever! And your con will end here!”

“What bravery,” Fontaine mocked, “for such a pitiful man. That ace, he’s nearly there already.” A cruel laughter plagued Ingo’s ears. “So you better prepare yourself, Ingo.”

“May your soul be consumed by-” Ingo paused, and smiled. “A Chandelure!”

Despite not getting a response, Ingo felt pride. Yes, Chandelure. That was the Pokémon who loomed in his brain alongside that man in white. It was Chandelure who was his partner, devoted and loving, a powerful friend he had by his side through many a battle.

He remembered.

Almighty Sinnoh, he remembered something! Ingo tugged on the brim of his hat, straightening it out as he looked at his reflection in the glass. The smile looked so strange on his face, something that was restricted to just the corners. And yet, it felt so right.

By Arceus, he was a mess. Ingo looked down to his aching leg. It might have been best to stay off it, but, admittedly, Ingo wasn’t one for sitting down for long periods of time. And in the open of Rapture, it was a terrible idea to rest.

Stepping out of the docked sphere, Ingo looked around and listened intently. He was mortified to hear a Little Sister scream out in fear, with no sounds of a Big Daddy within earshot.

Ingo turned to go back into the sphere, thinking that he couldn’t do anything, but stopped.

He had taken down two Splicers and could teleport.

A deep breath was taken, and Ingo turned and ran towards the sounds of distress. If he wasn’t going to die today, then he wasn’t going to let a child die as well. Not when there was someone that could help her.

Through a long hallway and around a corner, Ingo ran, until he stopped mere yards away from two Splicers trying to reach a Little Sister that hid herself in some rubble. The sound that Ingo made stomping his feet together as he straightened up and pointed caught their attention.

“Halt!” He demanded. “Depart from the child this instant!”

“So, we got a here for the little freak, do we?” One of the Splicers said, a woman while the other was a man. “And he isn’t even spliced up! So little ADAM on him. Disappointing.”

She spun the barrel of her revolver, and took time aiming at Ingo.

“And he isn’t even armed!” She laughed. A split second before she pulled the trigger, Ingo disappeared into thin air. He appeared right behind the Splicer, and began grappling with the pistol in her hand. Naturally, the Splicer was stronger than Ingo, managing to wrestle away. But before she could aim, the man disappeared. Expecting him to appear behind her, the Splicer turned.

She hadn’t expected him to appear on top of the pile of rubble.

Realizing that the male Splicer was getting too close to getting the trapped little girl, Ingo was on top, attempting to dislodge a large piece of rubble with his good foot.

The piece of concrete tumbled down with the force of its immense weight, hitting the male Splicer, taking the addict down to the ground with it. Beneath its weight, the man was utterly crushed, and killed quickly. One could not even hear the crushing of his bones or the squishing of his organs beneath the sound of the rubble.

“Eugene!” The female Splicer cried out with a wail. She looked up at Ingo, gripping her revolver even tighter.

“He would still be here if you two had listened!” Ingo said, teleporting down to the ground.

The Splicer cried out in frustration, dropping her weapon as she lunged at the man. Ingo just teleported again, allowing the woman to crash into the pile of rubble. From the safe nook in the pile, Ingo could see the glowing eyes of the Little Sister, watching him with interest. There was a plea in those eyes, a plea the man intended to answer.

Ingo stomped his feet together again, straightening up his back to point at the Splicer, who was getting up herself. The rage radiated off of her heavily, but Ingo would not be fooled into partaking in the anger himself. However, as she charged once more, Ingo realized something.

He wasn’t going to get his mouth close enough to bite this woman to death. And he didn’t really want to.

A deep breath and Ingo took up a fighting stance he had learned from Lady Sneasler. Feet firmly planted and armed raised in a defensive stand. The Splicer tried to to punch, but both of Ingo’s arms took the brunt of the blow, softening it so that it hurt, but was far less dangerous than if it landed.

Ingo tried to look for an opening in the Splicer’s wailing fists, but she wasn’t letting up. Finally, the man teleported behind her, landing a blow before she could turn around.

Admittedly, it felt good. It felt good to exert his energy into something that wasn’t running, to be using himself to defend someone he couldn’t.

It felt good to (theoretically, if she was here) make Lady Sneasler proud.

Ingo was determined to do so, to keep that child safe, to make this Splicer go down and never get back up. With that determination, it felt like Ingo’s punches seemed to grow in speed, faster and faster- impossibly fast.

It was another Pokémon move, wasn’t it? Psychic type Teleport, dark type Bite... This was a fighting type move, how else could his arms move so fast? Ah well, he’d put a name to it later.

He felt like the protagonist to a silly little story. But this was very real (to him at least. I mean, we know it’s not, but he’s having a moment-), it was real as the Splicer flew back with one final, solid punch.

She wasn’t moving.

Ingo had done it.

With the stomp of his feet together, Ingo tugged on the brim of his hat as he straightened his back and pointed victoriously.

“I had warned you!” He announced. “And you have paid the consequences!”

The feeling of victory quickly faded, however, as reality came settling in. He had initiated, he had murdered, he had done it. Was it worth it?

As he felt something cling onto his bad leg, shooting pain through it, Ingo decided that it was. It was worth the guilt.

“Hello!” He looked down to the Little Sister clinging to his leg, looking up to him with innocent eyes. “I am Ingo. What is your name?”

She just looked up at the man with eyes that could only see innocence. As Ingo kneeled, she let go of his leg, instead folding her hands behind her back.

“Would you like to try on my hat?” Ingo took it from his head, offering it to the little girl. Her eyes widened as she quickly took it, placing the old thing on her head and giggling as if she hadn’t just witnessed the double homicide Ingo just committed. The Little Sister gave him a little twirl, showing off her looks.

“Not much for speaking, are you?”

The Little Sister paused, then shook her head.

“That’s alright!” Ingo stood, grunting at the stress on his back and leg. “I used to be a similar way! I did not speak as a child! As you can probably tell, I changed as I grew up!”

She giggled again, reattaching herself to the injured leg. He couldn’t help it, Ingo had to chuckle a little. It was a refreshing sight, to see a child smiling despite everything, every horrible thing around her.

“Hold it!” A woman said from behind the two of them. “Lay a hand on the Little One and you will regret it.”

With hands raised in the air, Ingo slowly tried to turn around, wincing as the Little Sister clung to his leg playfully. The woman only held her gun tighter at seeing Ingo’s front, and he had to wonder- oh right, glowing eyes. That would set anyone off on suspicion. Except Jack, it seemed.

But seeing that it was a non-Splicer threatening him, Ingo felt confident.

“I aim to bring no harm to the child!” He said. The woman didn’t seem sure.

“Then why else did Jack abandon you?” She asked, inching closer.

“He did not abandon me!” Ingo’s eyes widened, “I voluntarily left! After telling him something very important the best that I could!” Then he narrowed his eyes, looking at the woman with suspicion himself. “Why have you been watching us?”

“Tell him what.” She demanded. At Ingo’s silence, she emphasized her firearm with a swift motion. “You will tell me what you have told mein Jack.”

“How do I know that you will not use it to harm him?”

“Then you know he is a supersoldier.” With a sigh, she lowered her gun. “I am Brigid Tenenbaum. Perhaps you have heard of me. I would be surprised if you did not, considering... Mein sins. One of them stands with you there.”

Slowly, Ingo lowered his arms.

“I have!” He said, looking down at the child who still held on steady to his leg. “And Suchong as well! Why do you come for the child?”

“I gave Jack the plasmid to cure them of their ailment, the one I have given them.” Brigid hung her head. Ingo could feel her guilt, and nodded. “I came searching for that Little One. She has no Big Daddy, they cannot reach here anymore. Thank you for protecting her.”

Ingo stood straight, giving her a salute.

“When I heard her cry, I could not stand to let her die!”

“Und now that she had been saved by you, she will not leave your side.”

“Then I will take her to where it is safe!”

“Come,” Brigid motioned for them to follow as she started to walk, “I have a safe house for the Little Ones Jack has saved in his venture.”

Not wanting to deal with the stress on his leg from walking with the Little Sister attached to it, Ingo picked the little girl up. She giggled freely, throwing her hands back before giving the man a large hug. He hurried to catch up with Brigid before she got too far.

~~~

It was heartbreaking to see so many young girls in one dilapidated place. But Ingo could respect Brigid’s efforts to keep them all safe.

“Jack should be facing Ryan by now.” She said with a sigh, looking at Ingo, who now had two little girls by his side. “I fear what Fontaine will be doing with him.”

“He is like Ryan!” Ingo shook his head. “He will be stupid with his percieved toy, toss it out once it has lost all foreseeable value!”

“I hope for that. Yes, he would not want Jack to be used against him. With the WYK active, that is a possibility... I must send some Little Ones to fetch him, bring him to safety.”

Ingo and the girls at his side moved to allow Brigid to pass. Once she was out of sight, Marry looked up to him.

“Mister Ingo, where is your tophat?”

The man tilted his head. He looked down to the silent girl, who was still wearing his hat.

“She has it!”

“That’s not your hat.” Marry shook her head. “Your hat is tall and red! With pretty black accents!”

Ingo shook his head with a furrowed brow.

“I do not own a hat like that! Not currently! Perhaps I did in the past, but I cannot remember!”

Marry just looked at him, then grabbed his hand and began to pull him towards the other cured Little Sisters.

“Come on, Mister Ingo!” She said. The other Little Sister, of which neither Ingo nor Brigid managed to get a name out of, proceeded to help Marry drag him over. The girls seemed weary, yet quick to hound him for attention. And Ingo’s hair had grown long enough to be the main subject. Braids, beads, and chalk color were put into it, leading to Ingo looking like a fashion disaster- even more so than Cohen could have thought.

“Ingo!” Brigid’s sudden voice made him jump out of his skin. “Please, aid me, Jack is heavy but he needs immediate aid!”

Ingo wasted no time. The girls all spread out to give the adults room to take the unconscious supersoldier to a cot. He was in terrible condition, bullet wounds littering Jack’s body. It hurt Ingo more than seeing himself hurt. The man grabbed the first few first aid kits he saw and got to work, doing for Jack what he had for Ingo multiple times already. Brigid left him to it, instead getting to work on what she thought would cure Jack of his conditioning. Once the supersoldier was all taken care of, there was nothing to do but wait.

“Suchong spoke of you before his death.” Brigid suddenly said, watching as Ingo drew on the floor with some of the children.

“Why would Suchong speak of me?” Ingo asked as he added smoke to his train. He was proud of how it came out, despite not being a very good artist :).

“Because you fell out of a terrible machine.” The woman took a long drag of her cigarette. “The Lutece Machine, he had called it. A machine to tear space und time.”

Ingo froze mid-line.

“That is a power reserved for Sinnoh!” He looked up at her, slightly terrified. “The god of the world I come from! It is not a power for mortal creatures, humans or Pokémon, to meddle with!”

“I agree.” The two adults looked at each other for a moment.

“Suchong had said that Fontaine brought you through. He had been experimenting with the machine while imprisoned in his own department store.”

“The one I had woken up in...!” The girls looked at him, their expressions mixes of worry and confusion. “That means...! I could get home! We could find the machine, I can go home!” He dropped the chalk and got up, grasping Brigid’s shoulders perhaps a bit harder than he meant to.

“I knew I would be rewarded! If I did not die, if I just got through this all, I would be rewarded with home!” He exclaimed. Brigid opened her mouth, but a sudden hug knocked the wind out of her.

“Yes, yes, I’m sure-” She was cut off by the need to breathe. Luckily for her, Ingo let go with just a little push.

“I could see HIM again! I don’t even know his name, his role in my life, but I know him, and I could see him again!” Ingo looked away, off to some corner of the ceiling as he thought about what he could. “He seems so close already! His name, it will come to station soon, I know it!”

Jack stirring immediately caught Ingo’s attention. The man rushed to his side, helping him to sit up. The supersoldier was dazed, but once realization set in, a tearful look of regret came to him. Ingo shook his head, and brought Jack into a hug instead.

“Welcome back, child.” Brigid said, unable to look at Jack when both men turned their attention to her. “Welcome to the city where you were born. You are angry at Fontaine, yes? Now you know the truth. You are his tool. Brought back to Rapture to save him. You have saved many of my Little Ones.” She paused, taking a look at all the children that surrounded them- watching, playing, socializing. “I owe you a debt. While you sleep, I undo some of Fontaine’s mental conditioning. His control is no longer complete, but he can still pull some very unpleasant strings.” Another pause to sigh, and Ingo and Jack shared a knowing look. “We made your mind with many locks and keys. Fontaine has most of those keys, but not all. Suchong designed your mind, taught Fontaine to control you. You might find answers in Suchong’s flat in Mercury Suites.”

“I will come with you, Jack! I have unfinished business with Fontaine myself! “ As Jack stood, he nodded, gathering the supplies laid out for him. He looked to Ingo, and took one of the braids in his hand.

“The little girls have enjoyed messing with my hair!” Ingo raised a hand to pull some of the hair ties out of his hair. Some of the braids were tight, however, and stayed in place themselves. Jack smiled at him, clearly amused. “There is one, however, that we need you for!” 

With a nod from Jack, Ingo took him over to the silent Little Sister, playing with some dolls. The girls playing with her looked up to Jack as he kneeled beside the uncured Little Sister. The girl took a moment before looking back at Jack with curious eyes.

There was no fighting as the supersoldier gently placed his hand on her head. After the flash, she looked around. Spotting Ingo, the Little Sister smiled and giggled, getting a nod in return.

“We have to leave, now!” Ingo kneeled down, patting her head. “Be very good for Miss Brigid, understand? Now, we must depart from this station!”

Before he stood, the girl gave him a hug. Ingo, naturally, hugged back, but stood up to break it off rather quickly. There was an excitement boiling in him.

“We must depart now!” Ingo gave her another pat on the head, receiving a giggle in return. With a stomp of his feet together and a point to the door, he and Jack went on their way.

As soon as they were out of the safehouse, however, a sleazy snake of a voice came on Jack’s radio.

“And now you’ve got hooked up with Tenenbaum, huh, kid? She’s a regular Mother Goose. All right, fun’s fun, kid, but now... go get stepped on by a Big Daddy, would you kindly?”

Ingo whipped around to watch as Jack simply continued to spin the wheel that lowered a concrete door. He did not obey.

“Huh? I says, would you kindly go get stepped on by a Big Daddy?” Fontaine tried again. But again, Jack simply continued to ignore him, coming to stand with Ingo by the door, scooping the small area they could see for any dangers or resources.

“Ah. Seems like Mother Goose has been playing around in your egg salad. If you won’t dance to that tune, I got others. ‘Code Yellow’.” A wave of panic hit Ingo like a freight train as his friend doubled over, clutching his heart.

“I just told your brain to tell your heart to stop beating. Not right off the bat, mind you, the heart’s a stubborn muscle. But it ain’t that stubborn.” The radio barked with laughter that suddenly was cut off at will.

Ingo helped Jack to straighten up, both men looking deeply worried. The heart... Of course Fontaine would play dirty like that. It was all a man like him could do.

“Once you are free of Fontaine’s control, then you can have your revenge.” Brigid’s voice came over the radio, filling both men with determination, the will to carry on. “And we can keep my Little Ones out of his filthy hands.”

They nodded to each other, and carried on into the streets of Rapture. Ingo was diligent in his job as Jack’s aid, the searcher for supplies, as the former supersoldier continued to sweep the floor with various Splicers, dispatching any and all quickly. Teleport was an awfully convenient move for both getting to supplies quickly, and avoiding gunshots.

Once the area was clear, Ingo did his usual victory stance. But he was cut off by Jack doubling over again. He raced over to help his friend up once more.

“That’s it, kid. You’re busto. My new friends will catch up with you soon... oh, kid... I hope they make it quick.”

The two men stood up, ready for whatever the city had to throw at them. Before they moved on, however, Jack had the both of them pause for a moment, pointing to the dilapidated transportation vehicle standing in the middle of the roadway.

“Ah, a trolly!” Ingo grabbed his hat brim and nodded. “I suppose they are similar to trains, from what I can remember! Now, we have no time to waste, we must get on track to getting you cured of the commands!”

Jack nodded, stomping his feet together and giving Ingo a slightly loose salute. The other man nodded approvingly, and they got to moving.

As they moved and searched for the antidote for Jack, Ingo couldn’t help but wonder what he would do when he returned to where he belonged. Get a good meal and a bath would be his first options, but the image of that man he could never forget loomed in his mind. What was his name? What was his relationship with Ingo? Was he a strong trainer? Maybe that was how they knew each other, through Pokémon battles. Yes, that seemed right, but only in a sense... No, there was more to their relationship with that.

The vaguest hint of a memory came back to Ingo. His own Chandelure, and the man’s own Eelectross, fighting side by side against... Something. It was gone as quick as the memory came. Any attempt to hold onto it longer, to make out anything more than two Pokémon battling together against an opponent just made the fog cover it quicker.

But that must have meant the man in white and Ingo had a good relationship, right? Surely, why else would they have been battling side by side? And they looked so much alike. Even in businesses where it’s mandated for employees to wear the same outfit, they wouldn’t look so similar that when Ingo looked in a puddle and saw ripples of his own face, he would see the other man as well.

Speaking of his reflection, though, Ingo’s eyes looked brighter. He decided it was a coin toss on whether that was a good or bad thing, and followed Jack further into an apartment. Did the other man’s eyes glow, too? In Jubilife Village, everyone noted on night one how Ingo’s eyes glowed, so surely, right? Or was that just a side effect from suddenly getting sucked into this mess? Questions upon questions, and it all normally felt hopeless to ask them. But knowing that there was a possible way for Ingo to return home, they felt more hopeful than they likely should have.

Ingo sighed, looking around the grand penthouse he stood on the upper floor of. Just out of sight of some Splicers that aimed to tear Jack’s throat out first, Ingo’s Teleport proved useful in at least frustrating them enough to go for a seemingly easier target. And while the former supersoldier did that, it was Ingo’s task to look for supplies and the cure to his friend’s ailment. 

Spotting a sealed beaker of a strange yellow liquid that let off a faint glow, Ingo was slightly enamored by the sight. He listened out, hearing Jack still facing off against some Splicers in the other room. A stray bullet could get that beaker, and it seemed like that Lot 192 that Brigid had mentioned. So, Ingo grabbed it, and hunkered down behind a desk.

There was also a safe there.

Ingo knew he didn’t have a great track record with safes. By Arceus, that was what got him in this mess originally. But maybe there was a snack in there, that was always a good chance. A nice, dry, preserved snack... Oh, the man was so hungry. He wanted to know, yet setting security bots on track to ending Ingo was not desirable. Hm... 

Well, maybe Bite could help. The whole point of that move was that a Pokémon’s teeth would grow and harden to inflict the most damage possible. And there wasn’t much Ingo could lose now, he already had a cavity in one or two of his molars.

Then again, the safe was built to be bulletproof. He’d seen Splicers try shooting many safes. So he’d have to weaken it first, because Ingo was going to learn what was in that safe, and it had better include some food.

Carefully, Ingo set the dose of Lot 192 aside on the floor, on the side of him where no stray bullets were likely to hit it, and that he wouldn’t hit it in his attempt to get something for his aching stomach.

Taking a deep breath, Ingo prepared himself. Close Combat first to weaken the metal, Bite to tear it open. He paused for a second, though. Was he allowed to use these moves outside of battle?

Wait, what.

Wait, why did that matter? Did he need a permit or something? Why would someone need a permit to use a move outside of battle??

The thought was quickly thrown out, being completely and utterly ridiculous. It made no sense- and even if someone needed a permit or something to use Pokémon moves outside of battle, no one was going to care about that here.

Ingo got to punching, the speed at which he did so concerning him just a little. Not as much as the pain he felt in his hands did, but that pain would be worth it for something to eat.

The safe’s beating went on for about a minute or two, until Ingo was out of breath and his knuckles were a bit bloody. He felt like his defense stat was lowered or something, if he even had that here. Regardless, the safe showed its wear. Some of the metal was bent and seemed malleable. That was a good sign.

Ingo looked the metal over, biting it gently to find the best angle. Once a good one was found, his teeth began to ache again.

Despite it being his whole plan, it still shocked the man to feel his teeth pierce the metal walls ravenously, tearing out a small hole in the metal as he twisted and turned his head. Almighty Sinnoh, how strong were human jaws? Regardless, a few more Bites later, a hole was in the side of the safe that was large enough for him to fit his hand safely. The torn metal was discarded in a small pile beside him. Ingo’s mouth felt moist for the first time in what felt like forever, and he licked his lips as he peered inside.

It was alcohol.

“No-! Nonono, you cannot be serious!” Ingo pulled out the expensive looking bottles and tossed them aside, not noticing as one rolled into Jack’s shoes. “There cannot be only alcohol in here! There has to be something to eat!” All of that work, wasted on things he couldn’t even stand to drink. It made Ingo want to bawl, until he lifted one of the final bottles. 

“Yes!” He cried out, yanking the can of potted meat from the safe. A jackpot, a treasure- something that was protein and needed minerals! The top of the can was torn off in an instant and the contents shoveled into Ingo’s mouth. That was when he heard someone clear his throat.

Ingo’s eyes turned before his head did, the man looking like a deer in headlights as Jack stood there and stared at him, looking very concerned. Sheepishly, Ingo got up, still holding the potted meat tightly. He lowered his head until the brim of his hat covered his eyes, and pointed to the dose of Lot 192, safely on the floor. Jack’s face lightened up, and he dove for the liquid, quickly chugging it down as fast as he could manage. Taking that as a sign to continue eating, Ingo brought some of the meat to his mouth, eating it much more paced than before.

He cried out as something shocking hit his body, making Ingo convulse and nearly drop his prized find. Still shaking when the Electrobolt died down, he fearfully looked to Jack, who was holding his hands over his mouth in horror.

“Lot 192 has reorganized your entire plasmid structure. I should have known you would need a larger dosage. You’ll have to locate another dosage to fully remove the effects.” Brigid’s voice came over the radio. “Are you alright, Herr Ingo? Did you hear what I was telling Jack before?”

“I am fine! But I did not hear you, no!” Ingo said after a pause, going back to eating his meat quickly. To spill this on the floor would be a shame. Though, there wasn’t any blood on the floor, so it would probably be alright.

“Jack will no longer have the conditioning. He is freed.”

“Bravo!” Ingo blurted out, louder than he meant. “That is brilliant news!”

“It is. Now go and find Suchong’s lab in Artemis Suites. In there, no doubt there will be more of this Lot 192.”

Both men nodded, then stomped their feet together to point. Jack’s goofy smile made Ingo smile a little as they headed to the elevator, and made their way to Apollo Square.

~~~

“I never thought I would be back here!” Ingo shook his head as they entered the main square, Jack looking on in slight horror at the gallows that still stood. “Atlas got them to act like rabid Pokémon- animals, in other words! It is horrific what the desperate will do for a meal!”

The former supersoldier nodded, looking to Ingo with concern.

“And hope, I suppose! Some will kill for a little hope in their lives, when it seems there is none left!”

Jack placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, and led him away from the graphic sight of the corpses still hanging from the nooses.

Suddenly, a bee landed on Ingo’s nose. Curious, he thought, as he went a little cross eyed in an attempt to admire the little creature. He looked over to Jack, who looked concerned at the bees that buzzed around Ingo curiously. At Ingo’s calm demeanor, though, Jack seemed to calm down, watching as the man allowed another bee to land on the palm of his hand.

“Such strange things to me!” Ingo said, watching as the bee investigated his warn flesh. “So unnaturally small! But with wings like that, and its legs and colors, it reminds me a lot of a Beedrill! It does not have the shape of a Combee or Vespiquen!”

“Blah blah blah, goes the crazy man.” Fontaine snorted through Jack’s radio. “At least when you stand there, it makes it easier for Splicers to find ya.”

As suddenly as the bees came, they seemingly disappeared into thin air. It made Ingo a little sad that he couldn’t admire the creatures for a little longer, but he supposed it was time to get moving, anyway. He could hear Splicers coming. 

Both men sighed as they prepared for battle. Getting the second dose was going to be a grueling process, wasn’t it?

Chapter Text

Jack downed the last does of the Lot 192 quickly, as Ingo bandaged up a bullet wound on his arm in the corner. They both hoped that would mean the end to Jack’s plasmids being unstable. Once the beaker was empty, Jack tiredly went over to Ingo, kneeling down to check how the man was wrapping it.

“Fontaine was not kidding!” Ingo said, letting Jack take over. “That was far too many Splicers! If I were a writer, I would have to skip the scene because of how repetitive it would be!”

The former supersoldier smiled and nodded, helping Ingo to his feet. The man hissed, his injured leg being pulled off the ground. Jack looked concerned.

“I will soldier through, but I am in desperate need for proper repairs!” Ingo sighed. “I am willing to wait, however! That stop is not one we are en route to!”

Despite that, Jack hefted Ingo over his shoulder anyway. Finally, Fontaine seemed to notice something.

“You broke the spell?!” The conman roared. He regained his composure quickly, the art of an actor. “But layin’ all your chips on Mother Goose - it’s not like you never been double-crossed before, you know what I’m sayin’? Hoof it to Point Prometheus. We’ll discuss This like men. You, me, a submarine topside, and more ADAM than you could possibly imagine.”

Both men shared the same look and thought. Neither of them wanted ADAM, and neither of them wanted a submarine topside (yet). And even if they did, they both knew that Fontaine would be the last person to provide it.

The men got moving. Jack quickly got Ingo onto his back, the other man keeping a sure eye out for any supplies or enemies as they moved with deep determination. They would not let Fontaine win.

~~~

Through trial and tribulation, through hopeless, sleepless nights, Ingo had thought he lost it all. He thought he lost everything, twice again. Every time he made a friend, it was ripped from him- Dawn, Lady Sneasler, men he met in the department store. And through it all, he only had one desire; to get back home, and to see that man in white.

As Ingo and Jack stood before the elevator to where Fontaine laid in wait, he became nervous. It was the final trial. He could very well die here, and be lost to time to everyone that he met, even if they tried to keep his memory alive.

But that conman was the last thing that stood between Ingo and that man in white.

Jack gave Ingo a concerned look, one that said that he could sit this out, as he fiddled with the ADAM syringe a former Little Sister had given him.

No, Ingo couldn’t.

“All aboard!” He yelled out instead, a champion call. He stomped his feet together harshly, and pointed with his back straighter than ever. Ingo’s heart was pumping, adrenaline flowing through his veins.

He was ready.

“So, the both of you came up, huh?” Fontaine asked, clearly admiring the horrified looks on Ingo and Jack’s faces. He looked Jack straight in the eye as he continued to monologue, “I remember when me and the Kraut put you in that sub. You were no more than two. You were my ace in the hole, but you were also the closest thing I ever had to a son. And that’s why this hurts. Betrayal, kid. Life ain’t strictly business.”

Neither man gave him a response as they stepped out. Jack’s arm lit up harshly with crackling lightning, and Ingo raised his fist.

“A battle between a four year old and an unspliced madman?” Fontaine teleported from the device he was strapped to, reappearing right in front of it through a fine red mist. “This should be fun.”

The former supersoldier ran out first, shooting Electrobolt at Fontaine to stun him. It allowed Ingo to teleport to near the back of the room, looking around for some sort of advantage. There were huge vials of ADAM attached to the machine Fontaine had been hooked up to, and that became Ingo’s goal. He just needed to find a firearm, as Jack and Fontaine fought harshly. 

“Bravo!” Ingo called out, when Jack managed to trip Fontaine and plunge the syringe into the giant’s side. But he was suddenly pushed down, his hat going flying towards Jack and Fontaine. A Splicer had got him, jumping down to attack Ingo again.

The man teleported away, allowing himself time to stand up as the Splicer looked for him. They ran at each other, but Close Combat allowed him the first punch, allowing him to pummel the Splicer despite his bloodied and bruised knuckles.

Another Splicer may have saved the first one’s life, as he wrapped an arm around Ingo’s neck and pulled him away. But putting his arm so close to Ingo’s mouth was a severe mistake.

See, Ingo had a big mouth. An oddly large mouth. It wasn’t just that he was loud, it was that his mouth was physically very wide, which allowed Ingo to fit a concerning amount of the Splicer’s arm in his mouth- of which, using the move Bite, was promptly torn off. It concerned Ingo how powerful he suddenly felt.

Another Splicer came running at him. As she got close, Ingo teleported behind her, using her sudden stop in confusion to his advantage, as he bit into the back of her neck. He wasn’t sure how much he pulled out, but it felt like there was some bone in his mouth, which the man spat out. 

The Splicer had been carrying a gun on her, just what Ingo was looking for. Picking it up, he aimed at the large vials of ADAM, and hoped that, somehow, in his two years without using one after handling a rifle one time, that his aim had improved.

It honestly didn’t, but he still managed to explode one of the vials with a bullet.

“What are you doing?” Fontaine screamed. His addiction kicked in when he saw the Splicers going for the split gold. Ingo didn’t want to be in the crosshairs of whatever attack the inhuman beast was charging up, so he was quick to teleport behind some cover.

A sudden wave of extreme heat washed over him, and he could hear the screams of the Splicers that crackled and burned to their ends. Ingo mustered up the will to look, and spotted Jack laying to the side, the attack having knocked him out. Thankfully, it seemed he was alive, as his skin and hair held fast to his body, despite the fire that burned on the Splicers.

But seeing Jack helpless like that made something click in Ingo.

“I will murder you!” Ingo cried out as Fontaine laughed at him harshly. “I will murder you, and you will be the one I will never regret!” He tried to keep the laugh from affecting him, as he teleported out of the path of lightning and fire and ice. He tried, but there was so much pent inside. The taunts, the lies, the violence that Fontaine spewed and stood for. The very fact that he had dragged Ingo through time and space. It made Ingo want to scream.

So he tried.

Thinking it would stun Fontaine like that first splicer, he was shocked when no sound came out. But he would not give up on it, his willpower to fight, to keep going, to not surrender despite the corner Ingo was physically and mentally in.

“What funny new plasmid is that?” Fontaine asked, trying to sound taunting, but a hint of uneasiness in his voice. He was charging up his own attack as well.

A ball of shadows became visible in Ingo’s field of view. He held on to it, charged it, for just a second more, before finally letting it go, and teleporting from Fontaine’s target.

The attack moved faster than either man could process, squarely hitting Fontaine in the chest, knocking him off his feet and leaving a creator of a bloody wound. The inhuman beast cried out in pain, landing near Jack’s unconscious body.

“Shadow Ball!” Ingo breathed, grabbing his charred hat and the ADAM syringe from the floor. “That was Shadow Ball, Frank Fontaine!” Ingo began to approach, watching the giant start to try lifting himself from the floor. “Are you impressed? Do you want to take that for yourself as well? As you did my life!” He plunged the needle into the man’s side. “As you did Jack’s free will!” He pulled it out again, plunging it further into the man’s organs. “As you did the humanity and dignity of all the children and citizens of Rapture!” Once more, the needle was pulled out, plunged as deep as the needle would allow. More needles joined as the former Little Sisters joined Ingo.

“This is your reckoning, Frank Fontaine!” Ingo let go, allowing the children to vent their frustrations with the needles instead. “I hope this long con was worth it for the ending you received!”

The glow in Fontaine’s eyes slowly died, as Ingo’s own glowed brighter in the dim lighting. It was something that he couldn’t help but revel in, watching the life of Fontaine slowly drain and die right in front of him.

It was over.

They were safe.

They had won.

Ingo dropped to his knees, every inch of his body bursting with pain. He laughed a little, softly and gently, as the former Little Sisters looked to him for guidance on what to do next.

“Bravo!” He said, patting the head of one of the nearer girls. “Go fetch Miss Tenenbaum, Jack needs a little help!”

Some girls nodded and left, some of the others went to Jack’s side to check on him themselves. Ingo took a deep breath, and laid down, allowing himself to properly relax for the first time in what felt like forever.

And it felt good.

~~~

“All aboard!” Ingo couldn’t help but cry out, the motions of directing Jack and Brigid into the bathysphere coming to him so naturally. Jack smiled that goofy smile of his while Brigid had some amusement in her eyes.

“So you used to work with trains?” She asked as Ingo stepped in after them. “The motions, they are practiced for you.”

“I cannot remember!” The man shook his head, tugging on the brim of his hat. 

“But do you need to remember when everything else points to such a life?” Jack nodded in agreement with Brigid, pointing to Ingo’s hat. The man in question got a thinking look, then nodded.

“I suppose you are correct!” He said, sitting down and lifting his injured leg onto the bench to rest. “But, it would be very nice to remember for sure!”

Neither could argue that point. So instead, Brigid asked about Pokémon, considering she was a biologist and all. And oh boy, did Ingo start going off. There was so much about Pokémon- typing of the Pokémon, typing of the moves, species of Pokémon, the intricacies of battle. He didn’t even get to finish explaining how to optimize one’s battle techniques before the bathysphere was docked, and the three of them had to get moving.

“It is worse than I remembered.” Brigid muttered to herself, looking around.

“It is difficult to tell dilapidated from dilapidated!” Ingo shook his head. “If I remember correctly, our destination should be set to the Silverfin restaurant!”

Brigid looked at him, her brow furrowed.

“I thought you could not remember being dragged into our world?”

“I cannot!” Ingo shook his head again. “But I can piece ideas together, just as you did!” He stomped his feet together and pointed. “There was a woman that raised the department store up from the depths! I do not know what happened to her, but we all watched her journey very closely!”

Jack tilted his head.

“Once this place was raised, I switched tracks to Arcadia!”

He nodded. They all knew Atlas- Fontaine- must have taken her, and likely killed her. Another depressing thought for depressing Rapture. 

Without another word, the small group got moving. Ingo made note of just how empty it was. There were no Splicers, no humans, no Big Daddy. The Splicers must have left their prison, unwilling to return to the place that drove them to their state. The humans were surely all dead, it was difficult to live in an area that was already depleted of supplies. The Big Daddy must have left to find a new Little Sister, after the only one in the store was taken for ransom. The only sign of life was the occasional rat, gnawing on the rotten flesh of cadavers long since decayed. The foul, sour smell in the air had become somewhat stale in the two years the area had been abandoned.

They were nearly at the Silverfin when Ingo caught the glimpse of a reflection behind a large pillar, standing strong before a large window. He derailed to check it out.

It broke him a little to see the man that had been the only one to have genuinely been nice to Ingo. The corpse sat with his back against the pillar, Lonnie would have been looking out into the ocean when the gun in his decayed hand was to his temple. Ingo stood and looked out, wondering for a moment about what the older man had seen as he drew his last breath.

“It is also called a Great White,” Lonnie’s voice was still vivid in Ingo’s mind as he remembered one of the few times it was just the two of them, left by the others to talk. “Quite impressive, are they not?”

“It reminds me of Sharpedo.” Ingo had replied, taking a sip of his water while Lonnie drank some whiskey. He remembered admiring the other man’s facial hair, cleanly kept mutton chops that fed into a thick mustache. They had often talked about each other’s facial hair, Lonnie even gave Ingo some proper razors that he had hidden away. 

Ingo brought up a hand to his own sideburns, wishing he had one of those razors now.

“What an interesting name.” Lonnie had replied, looking back into the window with a strange guilt in his eyes. Ingo couldn’t place what that guilt was for at the time, but now he understood. A secret held out of fear.

“I do not blame you for not telling me!” Ingo said, taking his hat from his head and holding it over his chest out of respect. “Thank you for still staying with me! I know now! I hope you rest in peace!” He blinked the welling tears out of his eyes, and turned to face the awaiting Jack and Brigid. Both of them looked at him with sadness for the man.

Jack came over, wrapping an arm around Ingo’s shoulders. The man nodded, it was time to go.

~~~

Emmet walked the station platform, listening and watching carefully for any sign that someone was around.

Normally, he’d have his brother to help him out. But two weeks, four days, and one hour since his disappearance, poor Ingo hadn’t been found. Many people had been asking about him, or making false reports mistaking Emmet for him. Not even the best Herdiers or Stoutlands could sniff him out.

Emmet let out a shaky sigh. He hoped, taking his round slowly, that he could see something. See some sort of hint as to where his brother had gone.

But like always, there was nothing.

The man adjusted his white hat, and nodded to himself. He supposed it was time to clock out and go home.

A noise caught his attention, though. Further down the platform, an odd noise came. Emmet looked around, seeing no sign of a stray train or person. Not even a fellow worker for the station. With a deep breath, he slowly walked over to investigate, a hand hovering over a Pokéball, just in case things got ugly.

A light flashed just before Emmet rounded the corner of a wall, and he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Through what seemed to be a tear in time and space itself, stood his brother.

“Ingo!?” The hand above the Pokéball was moved, and both men started to run. Ingo tripped over the tear, falling but not letting that stop him. Their embrace was tear ridden, their grips on eachother so tight, only Arceus itself could separate them.

“Brother!” The word came to Ingo, laughing as he sobbed. “Brother, I’ve missed you! I was so worried I would forget before I could come back!”

“Forget?! What do you mean by forget?” Emmet broke the hug to hold his brother’s face. It looked like Ingo had aged 10 years in the 2 and a half weeks he was gone. His hair was long and filled with messy braids, his sideburns a mess, stubble and a goatee clung to his chin. Nevermind that his hat and coat were in ruins, and-

“Is that your blood!?” Emmet grasped his brother’s shoulders tightly.

“Uh, depends! Except for on my pant leg, that is absolutely my blood!”

“Almighty Arceus, we’ve got to get you to the hospital! Oh, Ingo, we have all been verrrrry worried about you. We can discuss the memory issues on the way, I can explain anything and everything, alright?”

“Yes, yes, of course!” But Ingo looked back at the tear. “I just have some people I want you to meet first, brother!” Emmet looked over his brother’s shoulder, spotting a man of similar height to both of them, and a short woman next to him.

“Brother, these are Jack and Brigid! They helped me get back here!”

Jack nodded, smiling widely. It was a goofy little smile he had, slightly lopsided, but purely joyous. Brigid nodded as well, smiling only a little.

Emmet smiled back, a smile that Ingo seemed to find slightly contagious. The two brothers walked up to the tear, and Emmet extended his hand to the both of them.

“I am Emmet,” He said, voice quivering from the pure joy and relief he felt. “Thank you. Thank you so much for returning my brother to me. I... I cannot thank you enough, thank you, thank you!”

“Emmet!” Ingo echoed, then nodded. “Yes, yes, Emmet! That’s right! And Joltik! You breed Joltik, the smallest known Pokémon!”

“Yes, I do!” Emmet smiled, and hugged his brother again. Jack’s face seemed to light up at the mention of the small creature, and Ingo perked up as well.

“Do you have one on you? Oh, you have to show him, you have to show Jack!”

“I do, yes, I’m training up a new member of my team.” The white coat was moved, and a Pokéball removed from a clean belt. Out from the Pokéball came the tiny yellow Pokémon, looking tired and confused. Jack’s face lit up in awe, and Brigid looked positively surprised.

“That is the smallest known animal in your world?” She asked softly, kneeling to get a better look but not passing through the tear itself.

Ingo nodded excitedly, “It is! Bees are the smallest in your world, right?”

“Nein, it is many things. Many things are smaller than this little one.” Brigid tilted her head to the side, then shook it. “But we must shut down the machine and be on our way. The little ones deserve to see the sun.”

“Wait!” Ingo removed his hat from his head. “I’m sure I can get another! And I am back home, I don’t risk losing my memory further and forgetting all that I hold dear! Please, Jack, have this! It is the most I can do to thank you!”

Emmet opened his mouth to say something, but smiled and nodded instead. The man through the tear graciously took the hat and sat it upon his own head, returning the smile. The twins smiled and gave a straight, angular salute. They looked like mirror images of each other, as if the older version of the man had come to visit. And with that, the tear was closed.

The Joltik was swiftly returned to its ball to rest, and Ingo taken to a hospital, where Emmet was given horrific news about his brother’s condition. 

Malnourished, dehydrated, underweight, various bullet wounds, a severe gash in his leg that should have prevented him from walking (from the walking stress, he’d likely limp for a good while after it healed- if he stopped limping at all), brain damage, and bones that hadn’t healed properly, including, but not limited to, his left shoulder, a few ribs, his jaw, and one of his fingers. There was no telling how old some of the injuries were, meaning he’d likely have limited use of his shoulder and finger for the rest of his life.

“Oh well!” Ingo had said, “It doesn’t matter to me anymore if I can do those sorts of things! I’m just beyond happy and joyous to be back where I belong!”

The road to recovery was difficult, and one Ingo would be on for a good while. Especially therapy. But Emmet was right next to him every step of the way. Always there to offer support, to be a listening ear, to give hugs and snacks. There was always something odd with Ingo from then on- his eyes glowed brighter than ever before and he could seemingly teleport from one place to another if left unattended, but Ingo was back, and that was all that mattered to the both of them. Despite the seemingly years he’d been away, despite all the stories he told, Ingo was back.

Chapter Text

It had been about a year since Ingo returned to modern day Unova and his brother.

Or, as Emmet liked to put it, “13 months, 18 days, and 7 hours.”

Ingo was doing much better. He didn’t look so scruffy anymore, but he had put on some more weight than what he left with. Some of it fat, some of it muscle, most of it because of stress activities. Emmet hadn’t exactly expected stress eating and stress workouts from his brother, but, as the doctor said, trauma changes a person. That was ok. Ingo wasn’t binge eating or pushing himself over his limits anymore, and that was a good sign.

And because Ingo was so stable, they both had decided on a vacation to Sinnoh. They both wanted to see if they could find any remnants of Ingo’s time in Hisui, over a hundred years ago.

There in the Canalave Library they sat, sipping a coffee each while carefully skimming through books. Ingo reached down to rub his leg as Emmet closed an old leather back and brought over another.

“Is your scar acting up again?” Emmet asked, adjusting the collar of his Alolan shirt. Being “too loud” to speak in the library, Ingo just nodded. “Yeah, it was a nasty wound. Glad the doctors could repair you, though.”

They both nodded, and Ingo stopped, patting his brother’s arm when he turned the page. He pointed to the picture, one of a young girl named Dawn and some of her Pokémon.

“Did you know her?” Emmet asked softly. His brother nodded, and quickly flipped through the next few pages, until he stopped on another photograph.

Emmet got up and rounded the table to get a closer look. Sure enough, it was his roughed-up brother. The photographed Ingo was pointing, though his posture was slouched and sad. Next to him was a tall-looking Sneasel, with odd claws and a long feather. The photograph was faded into sepia tones, but clear as day on who it depicted.

“I’m guessing that was Lady Sneasler,” Emmet took a seat next to his brother. Ingo had a melancholic look on his face as he nodded, his twin wrapping a comforting arm around his sweatered shoulders.

“You know, if you went to Spear Pillar, you may get a chance to give her a visit.” Someone behind them said. Both twins turned to see Cynthia, Sinnoh’s own League Champion. Ingo got a thinking look on his face, but Emmet rubbed the back of his neck.

“Ah, hello, Cynthia. I guess we shouldn’t be surprised to see you at this station.” He said. “But I don’t know about going back to visit, it gave Ingo some pretty severe amnesia last time.”

“Ah, but Dawn is quite the trainer,” She said, taking a seat where Emmet formerly sat, across from Ingo. “Considering she likely has caught Arceus, I’m sure things could be arranged safely.” She smiled when she saw how tempted Ingo looked. “After all, she already took her mother and best friend back with her.”

“I want to go back!” Ingo was quickly shushed by the librarian. Emmet looked shocked but Cynthia just smiled.

“I expected that was why you came back.”

~~~

“Is this why you work out so much now?” Emmet was out of breath, and now on his brother’s back to rest while continuing to make progress. “To give Lady Sneasler a run for her money?”

“Perhaps in part!” Ingo hopped over a small stream. “But not really! It’s more insecurity and, well! You’ll see when we meet the Professor of Hisui!”

“Please tell me it’s related to you teleporting.”

“You cannot prove that I teleport!”

“One of these days, you’ll slip up. I just have to be patient.” Emmet laughed, seeing Ingo smile. “It looks as though we’re almost to the top.”

“Are you ready to walk, then?” Ingo paused, looking back to his brother.

Emmet rubbed his own inverse goatee in playful thought, before shaking his head.

“My legs are really sore, I pushed on as far as I could.” Ingo shrugged, and continued to carry his brother. “Isn’t your leg hurting as well?”

“My good leg is just fine, my bad leg is a little sore but will last. We can rest at the top.”

And so they continued to climb, up to the top of Mount Coronet. At the top, Ingo let his brother off his back, and looked around. It looked just as it did 100 or so years ago. Or, at least the glimpses he had managed before a blonde man with terrible hair pushed him off the mountain. Ingo was surprised when therapy had helped him remember that.

Emmet shoved a water bottle into his brother’s hands, then took the backpack off his back. From the clips on the front came both men’s hats, and from the inside came some snacks and their coats. Not wanting to be confused for each other repeatedly, Ingo had insisted on the coats. Emmet put his on quickly, regretting his thin Alolan shirt a little due to the cold air of the peak. But to be fair, it was patterned with a bunch of cute, tiny Joltiks. He couldn’t be mad at that shirt, but Ingo could be annoyed by it.

Ingo handed the water bottle back, watching his brother take a drink, before getting his own coat out and putting it on. He opened his mouth to say something, but the strike of lightning startled both men into silence. Emmet was quick to pick up the backpack, and both looked ready to run as more lightning struck around the area.

In the middle of the ruins, the air became distorted. The very fabric of space and time itself started to shift, an opening becoming clear and evident. It was a ring of white light that became a mirror portal into the past.

“Ingo!” A young woman hopped through, hugging her friend with a laugh.

“Dawn? You look so much older than I remember! Then again, I don’t have the best memory anymore!”

“No, silly, I was much younger when you left.” Dawn giggled. “Is that the man you remembered?” She looked past with a smile, to the twin that was struck with awe as he stood before Arceus himself.

“Yes! My brother, he’s my brother!”

“Your brother! That’s great! Come on, come on, I have so much to show you, and Lady Sneasler is waiting.”

Ingo gave a nod, and looked to his brother. A firm pat on Emmet’s back shocked him out of his stupor, and he bowed before Arceus quickly.

“I am Emmet.” He said, and the powerful being nodded slowly in return.

“I know thy name,” Arceus said. “Of all beings, I know thy name, Emmet. Come now.”

“Dawn, why do you have Arceus?” It was Ingo’s turn to be in awe, having been too focused on seeing his old friend to notice literal Pokémon God standing on the other side of the portal.

“I also have Giratina, Palkia, and Dialga.”

“How did you manage to catch the literal deities of creation?” Emmet’s smile was unsure, his look very concerned. Dawn just shrugged her shoulders, and dragged the men through the stable portal. Arceus stamped a foot when they were safely through, and it shut quickly in a flash.

“When thou hast finished thy visitation, I shall reopen the portal to returnth thy home.” Dawn nodded, and returned Arceus to his Pokéball, one decorated by poorly painted stars and flowers. Then she brought out a flute, and played a familiar tune.

“After you left,” She said, turning to Ingo, “I became Lady Sneasler’s warden for a while. I hope you don’t mind that I left my friend in charge instead so that I could continue helping with the Professor’s research.”

“I trust your judgement most!” He replied, stomping his feet together to point. “And besides, if she was not happy with the ordeal, our Lady would let your friend know!”

From behind them, Emmet laughed, saying, “I sure am quick excited to meet this Lady Sneasler!” He came over to join them by the peak’s cliff. “Ingo talks about her often, and speaks of how he misses her. How she took him in and helped take care of him. I will surely have to thank her when she arrives! Oh, and I am Emmet, by the way.” Dawn nodded with a smile, shaking his hand, while Ingo looked down the mountain with a slight smile.

A flash of grey and purple came quickly to the top, so fast that Emmet and Dawn fell backwards. But Ingo just held on to his hat, an old habit from his days as a warden.

“Never one to change, are you?” He asked the Pokémon that landed behind the three of them.

“Snee!” She exclaimed, hugging Ingo with such force that it knocked the breath out of him, and nearly tipped the both of them over the cliff’s edge. Naturally, Ingo hugged back tightly as well. Emmet looked them both up and down, a confused look as he compared their heights in his mind.

“I expected her to be taller than us, verrrrry much so.” He said, standing up and dusting off his bright white coat.

“Oh, she doesn’t need to be tall to carry us down the mountain.” Dawn giggled. “She’s quite strong.”

Lady Sneasler let out an agreeing noise, and looked between Dawn and Emmet. Ingo lifted his brother in the air, a practiced motion usually done to annoy scrawny Emmet. But instead of doing it for annoyment, Ingo placed him in Lady Sneasler’s basket instead.

“Here, so you can get to know her!” He said, before allowing Dawn onto his back. “I’ll take Dawn down!”

“Take me- Ingo, how are you going to take me down the mountain in a timely manner?” Dawn shared a look with the Pokémon, one of concern.

“Oh, you’ll see!” Emmet laughed. “He carried me up most of Mount Coronet!”

Satisfied with that answer, Lady Sneasler snickered, and quickly started her own way down the mountain. Her competitor wasted no time in starting, either, racing down quickly but carefully. To any onlooker, it likely would’ve been impressive to watch a man race a Sneasler down the side of a mountain, especially in a flowing coat and with a young woman on his back. It wasn’t fair, of course. The Pokémon had large claws that gripped the rock far better than Ingo could, but he was still just a minute or two behind.

“Ingo! How in the Distortion World could you keep up with Lady Sneasler?!” Dawn’s eyes were wide as she was let off the man’s back, Lady Sneasler having already let Emmet out of the basket on her back.

“He’s been taking many physical activity lessons since he got back home.” Emmet said for his brother, who was busy hydrating himself. “Rock climbing has been his verrrrrrry favorite.”

Dawn looked between them in awe, and slight concern. Ingo just shook his head, placing the nearly empty water bottle back in the backpack’s pocket. She decided to not question it further, believing that would just serve to confuse her further. Instead, she just walked the twins back to Jubilife, amused a little that Lady Sneasler decided to tag along.

In the settlement, heards turned and whispers exchanged. Emmet smiled and waved to some people, but Ingo pulled on his hat brim, bringing it down over his eyes. Lady Sneasler stuck close to her former warden, nuzzling him a bit for pets here and there as they walked.

“Ingo! I didn’t, uh, expect you to see you back here.” A short man with a hat said, looking between the twins. Dawn smiled in amusement, since it seemed the professor didn’t seem to be able to tell which was Ingo.

“Professor Laventon, it is a pleasure to see you once more.” Ingo said, standing and giving a salute for a greeting. The professor’s eyes widened, looking quite concerned that is the more muscular of the twins to speak with Ingo’s voice.

“I am Emmet.” The scrawnier of the two said, standing at a salute with his brother. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Laventon nodded before saying, “Ah, you as well. What, uh, what brings you back to Hisui? Dawn said she had gotten news that you were back in... Unova, correct?”

“Yes, Unova!” Ingo gave another few pats to Lady Sneasler’s head. “But we came back to the destination for vacation, when a very important person came to us and told us we had a way to come here! I could not pass up the opportunity to see Lady Sneasler again, or to give you some very interesting research!”

“My brother has brought me along to meet everyone, but I do believe there is someone here I would verrrrrrry much enjoy giving a quick... Talking to, so to speak.” Emmet added, malicious intent shining in his grey eyes. “Not you, that is, verrrrrry much not you.” He quickly added when the professor’s eyes went wide.

“He wants to beat up Vovo!”

“Ingo do you mean Volo?” Dawn couldn’t help but giggle.

“It- It’s an L instead of a V?”

“Yes, and, uhm. I think you’ll be pleased to know he’s been sent to exile in another region.” Laventon rubbed the back of his neck slightly nervously. “But please! Please, tell me about this research opportunity, I would sincerely love to know more.”

“As it turns out, under severe stress, and possibly other situations, humans may be awarded the opportunity to learn Pokémon moves!”

“So you CAN teleport!”

“Oh Emmet, I can do so much more than you think!”