A Pokemon Problem

by Solecism


(12) - What's This?!

A Pokemon Problem

(12) - What's This?!


I don't recommend evolving, not even to my worst enemy. The pain and experience is indescribable, but I'm going to try to anyway.

It felt like having your legs crushed under a steamroller while simultaneously having phosphoric acid dumped onto your upper torso. My limb felt like cotton candy—and I don't mean light and fluffy; I felt like it was being mixed and pulled, stretched and whipped. The entire world went white, then red. After that died down, I saw everything in the world as a polarized opposite of what it should've been: blacks were whites, blues were reds, and so on. The world span, and span, and span.

And then, just like that, everything was back to normal. For the most part, anyway. Everything seemed better.

I could see clearly again. My field of view had increased dramatically; I could see way more than I could before. I looked down with my new eyes, and saw that I had regained arms. Big, clunky arms, but arms nonetheless. They were skinny where they connected into my brand spankin' new and circular torso, but they grew into big, beefy limbs not long after, ending in a flat base with three graspers. I'm not calling them hands, because they're not: instead of five fingers and a palm, I had three spiky digits. The spikes were arranged in a triangular pattern, providing maximum grip with what seemingly little manipulation I'd get out of them.

Strangely, there was something that seemed to be stuck between my eyes where my nose should've been. Going cross-eyed, I realized that the object in question was another long, cylindrical spike protruding directly where my nose wasn't. I face-palmed when I remembered that aspect, then flew into the air in jubilance when I realized that I actually could face-palm.

You never realize how much you miss something until it's taken away from you. Oh, the little things! I could pick stuff up! I could make gestures! I could high-five someone—...okay, maybe not the last one. Not yet, anyhow.

Perhaps my most favourite part of evolving into a Metang, besides the oh-so-glorious hands, was the fact that I didn't have to relearn everything: I could still fly, hover, twist, and turn with ease. If anything, it was easier to as a Metang.

From my vantage point high in the sky, I could see everything with crystal clarity: the multiple sets of hoofprints in the fresh snow, the congregation of Pegasi at the edge of the crater, the—

Wait a minute...

I strained my eyes and saw, to my dismay, a group of some twenty-odd Pegasi nestled together in a cluster around the edge of the crater. And they were all looking straight at me. It was eerie.

I could hear them, which was weird: Normally I'd have to... turn my hearing on, so to speak, but for some reason that I couldn't fathom, I didn't have to. It was only after listening closely to the broken tidbits of seemingly random words and phrases that I realized...

I was listening to their thoughts. It was the strangest experience, listening to someone's—or in this case, somepony's—thoughts: they weren't directed or cohesive in the slightest. Trains of thought came and went in an instant; secrets were revealed and then instantly forgotten. I did, however, glean enough from the minds of the Pegasi to understand what they were there for.

They were there for me.

Anger and a strange sense of... duty were the overriding traits among the present Pegasi, although there were two exceptions: I hoped they were who I thought they were.

I froze in mid-air, some hundred-or-so feet above the ground, and all their eyes froze with me. I could tell that they were waiting for something.

"Whoever brings me that thing, dead or captured, will get a promotion."

The voice rang with authority; like the owner deserved to be listened to. I pinpointed the perpetrating pegasus from among the crowd. He (I could tell from the voice) was standing at the front of the group, and he wore a dull grey, full-face helmet—complete with sky-blue plume and everything. I couldn't see his mane, but his coat was a surprisingly deep gold, almost like the colour of freshly baked, Belgium-style waffles.

I figured that this was the leader, so I decided to name him myself, as I didn't know what his actual name was. Naturally, I picked the first thing that came to mind when I saw him: Captain Waffles.

With the order barked by Captain Waffles, the fleet of Pegasi rose to the air almost simultaneously, with a few stragglers lifting off later. The flock came rushing towards me, all intent on one thing and one thing only: my dismemberment.

Unfortunately for them, I happened to learn Confusion.

I concentrated deep within, and felt a power respond to my call. Using my arms and will to shape it, a ball of shimmering, clear energy began to coalesce before me. When it grew large enough, I pushed outward, with a loud and angry-sounding, blaring noise that I could scant believe came from me. The effect was immediate; on both the Pegasi... and on me.

I felt a burning pain course through my head (which was technically my torso as well). It felt like a combination of a hangover and an extremely hot pepper, just inside my cranium. I clutched my head in agony (hooray; arms!) and dropped like a stone to create my own crater in the frozen ground. But, in all seriousness: you should've seen the other guys.

The Pegasi flew backwards, propelled as they were by my use of Confusion. Many of them spiralled out of control, in a style reminiscent of fighter jets, while the remainder simply dropped like bags of rocks. Each and every one of them were clutching their heads in agony; some were shivering (I was pretty sure it wasn't from the cold), some were mumbling to themselves like I couldn't hear them, and some were reciting the same mantra (I was sure that it was a mantra by then) that old Spear had been mumbling as he bled out.


As sure as birds fly
And clouds give rain
We stand united
Unity through pain

Alone, we are weak
Together, we are strong
And how time has shown
We are not wrong

We are Pegasi
Strong and free
The sky is our domain
And remain that way it shall be


It took me a second to realize that the mantra was being spoken aloud by someone moving towards me. I looked up from the center of the crater that I was laying in, and saw that Captain Waffles was taking slow but steady steps towards me, the chant being repeated by him as if he was a broken record. I tried to hover, but I barely lifted a foot off the ground before slamming back down into it.

Through two tiny slits in his helmet, Captain Waffles spotted me and froze, the remains of his chant echoing into nothing.