Footsteps.

“…but, I mean, just think about it! Human Pokémon Trainers—”

“Is there a need to specify ‘human’?”

“Well, a ‘Pokémon Trainer’ is an entity that trains Pokémon, so if a Pokémon trains other Pokémon, we could have Pokémon Pokémon Trainers.”

The scratching of a pen upon paper stops. “…To be qualified as an official Pokémon Trainer, you need to be recognized as a Pokémon handler by your regional Association. You need a license for that. Pokémon can’t acquire that license—”

“Why not? I know we have no known cases yet, but are they barred from getting a license? Do we have rules for that? Are we discriminating against Pokémon?!”

“Are you… argh, look, okay, I get it. Not the technical term. Unofficially. What was your point?” The scratching noise continues.

“Oh. Right.” Pause. “As I was saying, human—”

A sigh.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be like that! You don’t find it the slightest bit interesting?”

“I’ll find it ‘interesting’ when it becomes my next paycheck.”

“Well, how about the 1,000 arm theory regarding—“

“You cannot call yourself a real ‘researcher’ if you’re going to call that idea a ‘theory.’”

“Fine, not ‘theory,’ but it’s a possibility, right? It’s said that Arceus shaped the universe with its 1,000 arms, but any depiction of Arceus found today show it with significantly less arms. What if—”

Muscle memory grants them fluid access past the keycard scanner.

“—those 1,000 arms once belonged to Arceus, but after expending an abnormal amount of energy, 996 arms detached or was sacrificed or something and ended up becoming other Pokémon?”

A pair of feet grind to a halt, a pen paused, while the other pair follows suit shortly after. “What.”

“Maybe Arceus’s four feet represents itself, Dialga, Palkia, and Giratina. Maybe that’s why Arceus has a stronger connection with those three Pokémon, and then the other arms ended up creating other mythical Pokémon. Maybe, what we call ‘Arceus’ now is just a derivative of the original Arceus!”

“I’m sorry, but that’s stupid.” Footsteps continue. Aggressive pen scratches.

“But, what if? Think about it! There is so much we still don’t know about Pokémon, about the world, about the universe! The universe is too big to not be able to have at least that many Pokémon! And then—”

“Okay, stop. You’re not even making sense anymore… What is it with you and the myths— oh, right. Sinnoh branch.”

“Hey, every region has its myths and legends, you know? I’m interested in all of them! I mean, the universe is always changing, so maybe we, humans and Pokémon and any other creature out there, are all derivatives of the arms of the original one, working together and shaping the universe.”

“Argh, really? You’re bringing it back around like that?”

“Hey, that’s why I’m here, aren’t I? The truth about us. About Pokémon, about the world. We all want to know, don’t we?”

“I can’t believe I’m listening to this.” The pace quickens.

“Maybe they’re dumb, but you know I’m not lacking in imagination.”

“That’s some imagination, all right. Who’s planting these thoughts in your head? The Commander?”

Stop. Silence.

“Hey.” A softer tone of voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just happen to be very busy.”

“Not that busy to build up this kind of stress. So?”

More silence. Finally, a defeated sigh. “Look, I’m sorry. I know you’re talking to me because you’re worried, but I just…” A furtive glance left and right before drawing closer. “I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something going on. More than what we know.”

Blink. “What do you mean? It isn’t like we’re privy to all the projects going on, so I think that’s a given.”

“No, but, I mean—!!!” Hands fly over the other’s mouth to muffle any questions.

Down the hallway, a figure passes by, but offers no gesture of acknowledgment. Only after the figure vanishes behind a corner for a good few seconds are the hands removed.

A heavy sigh of relief. “That. That’s the problem.”

“‘That’? You’re stressed over by some co-workers?”

“How can you call them ‘co-workers’ when you have no idea who they are or what they do?”

A thoughtful hum. “Well, I know that they work here, too. So, ‘co-workers.’”

“That isn’t the point!” The hiss comes out more forceful than intended. “You’re not around to see because you’re a field agent, but those guys? I can’t tell one from the other!”

“I don’t have to be a technician to know that the mask thing kind of does that if you don’t know a person. Have you tried talking to them?”

“Oh, please, you just saw that one just now. Didn’t even pay attention to us.”

“We didn’t say ‘hello’.”

“Listen to me! I just… they’re beyond creepy. I’ve asked around, and no one knows who they are, what they do, anything about them… it’s like, they’re robots, but they’re definitely humans.”

“Wait, so that’s why you’re so on edge? You’re creeped out by them?”

“Yes, but more than that! I’m worried.” Another sweeping glance of the area for any listening ears. “I’ve been around, and I’m not the only one off-put by those guys, okay? There are rumors flying about that… well, maybe things here? They’re not as we’re told.”

“Ah, gotcha.”

“…What? No, you clearly don’t! Some of the documents we get from the other teams, sometimes, things don’t add up. How do we have these sample sizes? These results shouldn’t be possible, given the participating subjects. Also, we’ve got resources and equipment going into to labs no one works in, but how? I know all sorts of people who invest time around the clock, and no one has ever seen anyone— or anything— enter or leave those labs. They’re locked tight. And, I can’t help but get the feeling… like… Those guys, they come in all shapes and sizes, but some of them are definitely not—”

“Excuse me, friends. Might there be a problem?”

“Oh, sh— Commander…!”