Scyther's Story - Part VII: Second Chance


It is such a shame when the young die…

Especially when one knows that when it comes right down to it, it is one’s own fault.

It was such a beautiful voice. He wanted to listen to it speak forever.

Razor was vaguely aware of himself, but he couldn’t sense anything. There was only the voice in its heavenly beauty, existing somewhere inside his mind.

He felt so comfortable, so hazy. If this was death, he should have committed suicide long ago…

Your life was meant to be longer…

The voice…

It was so beautiful…

He realized he was hearing something else now, truly hearing it, not in his mind like the voice. It became clearer with every passing moment.

It was Rob, and he was weeping.

Razor wanted to talk to him, comfort him, but he didn’t know where he was.

He felt cold air. He smelled sweat and blood. He felt a sharp sting of pain in his torso.

He gasped for breath, opening his eyes. He found air.

He could breathe again.

The world spun around before his eyes before clicking back into place. He was in the Gym. He was alive.

“I’m back…” he whispered hoarsely and looked at his upper body. There was no sign of a wound anymore.

He crawled to his feet and looked around.

The window was broken. Shards of glass littered the floor below it.

All the Pokémon, in the middle of battle, had stopped dead to stare at one thing, which Razor looked at as well, tracing their gazes to a couple of meters above him.

Floating there in the air was a pink, plain-looking Pokémon with a small, furred body, stubby triangular ears, a long, narrow tail and deep, sapphire blue eyes.

It was Mew.

And Rob was watching it from the other end of the room, stunned in disbelief, his eyes filled with tears. Lying on the floor around him, Razor could see the broken remains of his Pokéball.

Everything began to piece itself together now in Razor’s mind… he had died, Rob had regretted ordering him killed, broken his Pokéball in remorse, and then, inexplicably, Mew had arrived and given him a second chance…

“He knows nothing that is of any worth to you,” said the beautiful voice to Rob, and Razor realized it was Mew’s. “I am never for long in the same place, as you should know! Let him go and return his Pokémon. In return, they will not report you to the human authorities.”

Rob dropped to his knees, looking as if he was about to burst into tears again, the boy’s Pokéballs falling out of his hand and rolling around the floor.

“As for me…” Mew continued with a playful twinkle in its eyes, “catch me if you can.”

The legendary’s sapphire blue eyes looked meaningfully at Rob before it vanished into thin air.

Rob’s gaze turned to Razor.

“Scyther…” he breathed weakly. “You must help me get Mew now…”

Razor looked at him, that pitiful victim of irrational obsession, and could only shake his head.

“You’ve changed,” he said softly. “With Mew around, you’re not the Rob I’m willing to fight for. Your obsession poisons your mind. I could stay with you if you gave up on Mew, but you won’t. I can’t stand this.”

Rob looked at him, the understanding that Razor had always linked to him returning to his eyes. The man sighed and looked down. Neither of them noticed the two children make for the exit with the boy’s Pokéballs.

“No,” he replied quietly. “You’re right. I’m pretty fucked up, you know? I have to search for Mew. I can’t live without it, any more than you could live without chasing your Nightmare if she were a Scyther again. I’m sorry.”

“Then I wish you the best of luck,” Razor said, hearing his voice tremble. “Goodbye, Rob. We might see each other again one day.”

“Goodbye, Scyther,” Rob whispered. “I hope your life changes for the better.”

Razor glanced at his trainer with grief for the last time before bitterly forcing his gaze away. He took flight again on his recovered wings and buzzed out towards freedom through the broken glass.

He flew at the highest speed he could muster over the city, overcome with grief. He eyed Rainbow Woods on one side and tall mountains on the other. What would he do now? Where would he go? What was there for him out there? Where was Nightmare now?

The last question pained him. He slowed down and finally landed on the flat rooftop of a tall building to sit down and think about what to do now.

What was there for him out there, indeed? He was a failure as a Scyther. He could never return to the swarm. Nightmare was already coming back to plague his thoughts.

Death had been so comfortable…

He realized that the only thing that had given him purpose for the past three years was Rob, battling for him, doing his best for him. Without a trainer, he had nothing to live for.

He looked down at the city. He saw the Pokémon Center, and two familiar children approaching it in a hurry.

Mark, she had called the boy, hadn’t she?

Razor thought back to the conscience question and chuckled. He hadn’t seemed too bad.

The Scyther stood up, feeling the cool wind stroke his body. He walked slowly to the very edge of the roof and looked down at the street below – and the Pokémon Center at the other end of that very street.

Smiling to himself, he took a deep breath, prepared his wings for fast, straight flight, and jumped.

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