Dream On

by Mouse Tourmaline

Short(ish) one-shot. However, hopefully the set-up for circumstances I'd like to use again. The idea itself came to me out of nowhere, and the name "Zillah" along with it: as far as I'm aware there is no other character of that name, and if there is, the young woman in this story bears no relationship.

And yes, I know that in the games legendaries CAN be caught in a Masterball. Call it writer's license.

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"Ladies and gentlemen, we are here tonight to honour a young woman who has pushed back the seemingly immovable boundaries of Pokémon capture and training. It gives me great pleasure to announce that the Porygon Prize for Technological Innovation goes to..."

Zillah had always had dreams.

The researcher gazed down at the Pokéballs in front of her. Shining with a silvery glow, they seemed almost magical. Which they were, in a way, now she thought of it. In any case, they were the passport to her long-held vision of success. In the silver surface she could almost see her bright future reflected.

The lab Pokémon watched her, dozens of pairs of bored eyes. Zillah ignored them. She glanced at the notice that had hung above her desk at Silph Company for the past few years. It was a famous, almost clichéd quotation: The man who can build a better Pokéball will have the world beat a path to his door. Well, now she'd done it.

When she'd first heard about the legendary Pokémon of Kanto, Johto and Hoenn, too powerful and strong to be trapped in even Silph's new Masterball, Zillah had been shocked. After all, the Masterball was supposed to be perfect. Later, she'd seen it as a challenge. She'd worked hard in the Silph labs, trying experiment after experiment. But, appropriately and ironically, it was a dream that had inspired in her overworked mind the crucial idea. The next morning she'd got to work, unable to stay away from the lab any longer.

The silvery Dreamballs that she now held so lovingly could capture anything. She'd tried fitting an enormous lab cage into one of them, and in it had comfortably gone. A Tentacruel at full health and strength had vanished without a struggle. One of the techs from the floor above had had some barrels of waste that would have required clearance to place in the luminous-marked DISPOSAL box, the automatic one that led down the long outpipe to the shore at Fuchsia City; Zillah had captured the lot in a single Dreamball and thrown it into the pipe without a murmur of complaint from the management. After all those tests, there were only a couple left empty and unaltered; never mind, she could easily make more now. The odd thing was the way that the balls changed their appearance afterwards, becoming exactly like ordinary Pokéballs, save for a tiny, barely perceptible shimmer. An ordinary Pokéball with a legendary inside.

Zillah knew that some people-- activists, students, journalists, miscellaneous thinkers-- would accuse her of cruelty to Pokémon. After all, they'd done the same on the Masterball's official release. "Is nothing sacred?" the headlines had screamed. "The most famous Pokémon may be at risk! A prison for the uncatchable legendaries!" And so, the minute the capture mechanism was complete, she had carefully designed the other special effect of this particular ball, thinking about nothing else for days, spending nights and overtime on its perfection.

Whatever Pokémon was caught within the ball would instantly enter a blissful, sleep-like state. Tiny sensors and readers worked with the creature's mind to ensure that, from the moment the ball opened to capture it, the monster would be lost in the most attractive and pleasurable of its personal dreams, exploring a world far more exotic and beautiful than the one it had just left.

"A paradise for a legendary Pokémon," Zillah practised in front of the mirror, ready for the questions of the media, "not a prison. A palace of absolute happiness, impenetrable by any force until the holder of the dreamball chooses to call the Pokémon out. Then it appears, fully healed and rested, to carry out whatever task is needed."

A sense of delight thrilled the researcher's slender form. This was it. This was the fulfilment of her dreams, her--

The telephone rang, bringing her back down to earth and the cold brightness of the lab. Putting down the dreamball she'd been holding, Zillah answered it. "Hello? Silph Research Facility, Saffron--"

"Shut up." The voice was that of her team leader, sharp and hoarse, but agitated as he'd never been before. "Zillah, get out. Take your projects with you. I heard there's a horde of rogue Pokémon on the loose, I don't want the risk of them damaging our best work. OK?"

"Okay," Zillah agreed, scooping her papers and notes into the briefcase that stood by the door. The warning had sounded quite urgent. How big could this so-called horde be? Large enough to cause an evacuation in Saffron?

She flicked the cord that raised the window-blind, the blind which had been shut for days on end as she worked beneath the constant light of a desk-lamp. Now, for the first time, she could see out of the window. And she froze.

The streets were thronged with an army of Pokémon, making their way slowly but surely through Saffron City. There were hundreds of different species, big and small, common and rare. Zillah grabbed the telephone she'd so recently put down, and dialled the police station. "Officer? What in the name of Celebi is going on?"

The police officer babbled in her ear as Zillah's panic mounted. I heard from Celadon... all the 'phone lines down in Vermilion... more and more Pokémon joining... this journalist in Celadon calls it "The Fightback"... 'cos it looks like some sort of... uprising...

As she watched, the mass of Pokémon had already swept through the streets and towards the Silph building. There would be no escape by the main door now. The young researcher stood paralysed, too afraid to move.

...they're making Pokémon leave their trainers... hurling empty Pokéballs into the sea, off cliffs, into caves... they seem to hate the idea of capture...

She picked up the telephone. There was no dial tone. The line was gone.

Zillah looked at the Rattata in the nearest cage. "I'm going to die, aren't I?" she asked it stupidly. It looked back, motionless, perhaps sensing that its liberation was near.

"We're all going to die. When that lot see my Project, the entire company won't have a chance," she reflected. "They'll go mad when they see I made a trap for a legendary." Her voice was level as she considered the situation, but her fingers trembled as she held the notes in her hands. What these crazed Pokémon were capable of, she couldn't even begin to describe. She swallowed, fighting the image of her own figure trapped amongst the ruins of the Silph building, attacked mercilessly by a maddened Charizard, chased by an ever-accelerating Rapidash through the stairwell, pinned to the wall by the psychic power of an Alakazam. Zillah felt desperately sick. Yet there was no way out...

...was there?

Zillah straightened up. Lifting her project notes, she folded them neatly and slipped them into the pocket of her cardigan, taking off her lab apron. The keys to the lab cages she placed in front of the doors they unlocked, leaving the Pokémon feed on display. But she picked up one of the two remaining dreamballs and dropped it into another pocket. Its tiny weight against her leg was almost nonexistent. Then, stepping out of the sight of the lab Pokémon, she listened for the first scuffling footsteps on the stairs.

*

Deep beneath the water's surface, off the shore of Fuchsia City, the green weeds on the seabed quivered slightly. This area of the water was often avoided by the Pokémon who swam there; occasionally the normally clear depths would cloud over with a mysterious, murky substance, difficult for fish to breathe. Other times, sharp objects lurked in the sand that would tear an unwary fin, objects that had not been there the day before. Some whispered that there was a connection to the shining metal circle that touched the seabed, the circle that led to a slippery path climbing out of the safe water into coarse, unbreathable air. But no Pokémon, in these distant seas still unreached by the so-called Fightback, dared to go closer and investigate.

Now, a new treasure lay on the seabed. A curious Horsea squinted through the depths to regard it from a distance.

The Lapras that skimmed the surface of the water was moving faster than she'd thought imaginable. The human on its back laughed aloud at the sheer joy of the movement, letting her hand touch the crystal-blue waves beneath her, able to see every single Pokémon in the depths. She had done it, cheated them all, got away, without a soul to know where she had gone. The sky was almost the same colour as the sea, with not a ship or aeroplane in sight. Clouds sailed above her head. The world was a picture of serenity.

Perfect peace...

Zillah dreamed.