The bus hummed steadily beneath us, the rhythm of wheels on asphalt lulling most passengers into silence. I sat by the window, the damp Oregon landscape blurring past. Zoey had sprawled across an empty seat next to me, her illusion shimmering faintly as she disguised herself as a bored teenager with earbuds in.
Trilla sat beside me, hands folded tightly in her lap. She hadn't spoken much since we left Portland. Finally, I broke the silence. How long were you on your own?
Her eyes stayed fixed on the seat in front of us. Long enough to forget what it feels like to belong anywhere.
I frowned, waiting, but she didn't elaborate. "Your old trainer..."
Her shoulders tensed.
He wasn't a bad man, not at first. Just... lost. Some nights he'd talk like everything was fine, and other nights he'd sit in the dark for hours, saying nothing at all.
She swallowed hard, gaze unfocused. After a while, I stopped trying to reach him. The smell of his house changed. The air changed. So did he.
I stayed quiet, letting her take her time.
I thought... maybe if I stayed, it would get better. It never did.
Her voice wavered, a tremor breaking through the calm.
One night, he dropped my ball. I remember hearing it crack on the floor... and then nothing. When I woke up, he was gone.
The hum of the bus filled the silence that followed.
I wanted to ask more, but the look in her eyes, distant, shimmering with something heavier than pain, told me not to.
"That's fine," I said softly. "You don't have to talk about it."
She looked at me then, blue-green eyes tired but searching. You really mean it?
"Of course," I said. "You're safe now. We'll take this one step at a time."
Her hands unclenched just a little. She leaned against the window, watching the gray blur of highway roll by. It's been a long time since I've had someone believe me.
Zoey cracked an eye open from her nap and muttered in my head, If anyone tries to hurt her again, they'll regret it.
I smiled faintly. For the first time since we'd boarded, I let myself relax into the hum of the bus and the steady presence of my team.
The bus hissed as it rolled into the Seattle terminal just past noon. The city loomed behind it, glass towers stabbing into the clouds, streets slick with drizzle, and traffic already snarled in every direction.
Zoey was the first to stand, understandably stretching like she'd been cooped up for hours. Finally! Let's crush Lenora today and be done with it.
I hauled my bag onto my shoulder and gave her a flat look. "Yeah, no. We're not stumbling into a gym match smelling like stale bus farts."
She groaned. Atrea, come on. Her Stoutland's tough, sure, but I can shred her Watchog before it even blinks.
"Uh-huh," I said, stepping into the aisle. "And when you blow your energy out on a half-ass fight, who's gonna carry us through the rest of the challenge? Spoiler: not me."
Trilla followed us off the bus, quiet as ever, her gaze flicking from the skyscrapers to the crush of people on the sidewalk. She's right, Zoey. Pride is a poor strategy.
Zoey huffed, mane bristling. It's not pride if I'm actually that good.
I couldn't help smirking. "You tripped over a park bench in Portland."
Her head whipped toward me. That bench came out of nowhere!
I laughed as we stepped into the rain. "Look, here's the deal. Lunch, sightseeing, then we find a cheap motel and get some sleep. Tomorrow, fresh and rested, we take on Lenora. End of story."
Zoey muttered under her breath. Buzzkill.
"Love you too, sweetheart," I said, bumping her shoulder.
The drizzle hadn't let up, but the city didn't seem to notice. Seattle buzzed around us, traffic honking like a kid's clarinet recital, street musicians pounding out rhythms on overturned buckets, and the smell of roasted coffee wafting from every corner café.
Zoey trailed half a step behind me, arms folded, eyes rolling every two minutes. So this is what we're doing? Walking around looking at fish instead of beating the gym leader?
I smirked, tugging her forward toward the waterfront. "It's called sightseeing. Try it sometime."
We ducked into Pike Place Market, weaving through rows of fresh seafood and neon-lit produce stalls. Trilla slowed at every booth, her eyes wide, taking in the chaos. She lingered longest at a flower stand, running her fingers lightly over a spray of lilies.
It smells so alive here, she whispered to me.
I gave her a small smile. "Get used to it. You'll be seeing a lot more."
A commotion broke out a few feet away, a fishmonger hurled a massive salmon over the counter, another catching it clean with a laugh. Trilla startled back, eyes wide. Zoey burst out laughing, doubling over. You should've seen your face!
Trilla flushed, folding her arms. No one warned me the fish could fly.
I chuckled. "Welcome to Seattle."
By the time we checked into the motel, the neon sign outside was flickering like it was one spark away from dying. I swiped my card and nearly choked when I saw the rate.
"Sixty bucks for this dump?" I muttered. "Jesus. It better come with a free tetanus shot."
Zoey snickered, flopping onto the bed immediately. Called it.
"Not a chance," I said, tossing my bag onto the other side. "You're in the chair."
She flipped me off without looking, and I laughed harder than I had in weeks.
Trilla lingered by the window, staring out at the skyline. Her voice brushed my mind, quieter than usual. I never thought I'd see a city like this from anywhere but the outside. Thank you.
I sat back against the pillow, exhaustion finally catching up with me. "This is just the start."
Tomorrow would be a battle.
The bell over the museum door jingled as I stepped inside. Seattle's gym wasn't like Cilan's sleek arena; Lenora's gym doubled as a library, walls lined with glass cases stuffed full of fossils and relics. It smelled like dust and old books, not sweat and dirt.
Zoey padded at my side, arms crossed. Please tell me you're letting me handle this one. Watchog's a pushover, and I can mop the floor with her Stoutland.
I shook my head, clipping her ball to my belt.
Not this time. You've got Watchog, but Stoutland's hers.
Her mane bristled. What do you mean, not this time?
I want to see what Trilla can do.
She gave me a look that could've cut glass.
I smirked. Don't pout. Here's your chance.
Lenora met me at the center of the arena, her brown hair pulled back, glasses perched neatly on her nose. She smiled warmly, but her eyes were sharp.
"Welcome. You must be Atrea. I hear Cilan didn't last long against you."
"Didn't even land a hit," I said, deadpan.
"Fascinating. I take it this Zoroark is the one you battled with."
I nodded in response.
Trilla, it's Zoey's time.
She gracefully moved back to join me on our side of the field. Zoey stepped forward and howled, matching the ferocity of Lenora's partner.
Watchog tilted its head to the side as its hypnotic eyes began to swirl.
Lenora snapped her fingers, her voice sharp as steel.
"Watchog, Focus Energy, then Crunch when it closes in!"
The striped normal-type dropped low, its fangs glowing white-hot as tension built in its muscles. Across from it, Zoey stood motionless, eyes burning faintly red. The flickering light from the overhead fixtures danced against her fur, outlining her silhouette in dark violet.
Let's play a game, she murmured in my mind, her tone razor-smooth.
Before I could answer, her body blurred, then split.
Two perfect copies of Zoey burst outward, one darted toward Watchog from the left while the other lunged from the right. Their movements were perfectly mirrored, synchronized down to the flick of a claw. Even I had to blink twice; for a heartbeat, it looked like two Zoroark's were attacking in unison.
Lenora clenched her fist. "Watchog, turn and guard your flank!"
The rodent spun, bracing itself as both Zoeys closed in, one from the front, one from behind. Its eyes flared gold as it raised its arms to block. The twin figures collided with it simultaneously, then vanished.
The impact exploded into twin clouds of smoke, curling into the air like burnt ink.
"Wha-?!" Lenora started.
I saw it then, just a flicker of shadow off to the left.
The real Zoey erupted from the haze, claws wreathed in red-black light. She carved across Watchog's ribs in a single sweeping motion, the sound sharp and wet. The blow landed clean, a textbook Night Slash.
Watchog crumpled instantly, the light in its eyes fading as it hit the dirt.
The referee raised a hand. "Watchog is unable to battle! The victory goes to Atrea Morgan and Zoroark!"
Zoey stood over her fallen opponent for a moment, the red gleam in her claws dimming as the smoke from her illusions faded into nothing. She flicked her wrist, scattering the residual energy like it was nothing more than a magician's trick.
Lenora adjusted her glasses, stunned but smiling faintly. "Impeccable misdirection. Your Zoroark fights like a phantom."
I smirked. "That's kind of her thing."
Zoey glanced back at me, tail flicking. Told you she'd never see it coming.
Lenora's smile twitched. "We'll see if my Stoutland fares better."
Without another pause, she sent Stoutland out. It deployed from that familiar red energy and immediately slammed its paws to the earth, letting out a deafening shrill. It was eager for vengeance. Trilla hovered forward to stand opposite him, her eyes steady but nervous.
He's big, she whispered into my mind.
"You've got this," I said calmly, arms folded.
Lenora called first. "Stoutland, Crunch!"
The hulking dog bolted forward, jaws snapping with dark energy. Trilla gasped, frozen, until my eyes locked on hers. Now.
She blinked, then threw up a shimmering wall of psychic force. Stoutland slammed into it, teeth scraping against her Protect. The impact cracked the floor, but she held.
Lenora frowned. "No command?"
I didn't answer. I didn't need to.
Counter with Psychic.
My thought flowed into Trilla, and she obeyed instantly, catching Stoutland mid-leap in a violet glow. His legs thrashed helplessly as she hurled him across the arena, crashing him into the far wall.
The crowd gasped.
Lenora's composure cracked. "Impressive. But Stoutland, Work Up!"
The big dog rose, growling, body swelling with power. His eyes locked on Trilla.
He's charging again!
Focus, I told her silently. Use Shadow Ball when he closes.
She formed a dark orb and hurled it just as he charged. It smashed into his chest, staggering him, but not enough. He powered through, jaws glowing again, and this time his Crunch connected. The sound of his teeth sinking into her shoulder made my gut twist.
Trilla cried out, stumbling back. It hurts!
You're alright, I said quickly, steadying her with my voice in her mind.
Shake it off.
Lenora adjusted her glasses. "So she really does move without orders. Fascinating. Are you giving commands at all, Atrea? Or is this some kind of bond?"
I kept my arms folded, my eyes only on Trilla. "Something like that."
Trilla straightened, her wound already glowing with psychic energy as she steadied herself. She clenched her fists, eyes burning. I can still fight.
Good, I thought to her, my chest tight. Now, end this.
She threw out both arms, summoning a massive Thunderbolt that lit up the entire arena. The crack of lightning slammed into Stoutland, blasting him backward in a plume of smoke and dust. When it cleared, the dog lay motionless on the floor.
The referee raised his flag.
"Stoutland is unable to battle."
Lenora withdrew him and repositioned her glasses.
"Well done, my dear."
"Winner: Atrea Morgan and Gardevoir!"
The crowd erupted in cheers, but I barely heard them. Trilla turned to me, panting, sweat and smoke still clinging to her dress. I did it...
I smiled and held her Poké Ball up. "Yeah, you did. Take a rest, sweetie."
She vanished in a flash of red light. Zoey popped out behind me immediately, arms crossed, a scowl plastered across her face. You benched me. For her. And she got hit.
I grinned. She also won.
Zoey growled, but I caught the flicker of pride in her eyes. She'd never admit it, but she was glad.
Lenora approached, badge in hand. "You're unusual, Atrea. Your silence unsettled me more than your attacks. But strength is strength. Take this."
The Basic Badge gleamed in her palm. I accepted it with a nod.
"Thanks," I said.
As we shook hands, I could feel her eyes searching me for answers. I gave her none.
Rain ticked against the motel window, tracing silver lines down the glass while the glow from Seattle's skyline bled through the mist. Zoey was stretched across the bed, disguised as a half-asleep girl in a hoodie, scrolling on her phone. Trilla sat in the room's single chair, quietly watching the reflections in the wet street below.
I should've been celebrating. Two badges down, decent motel, everyone alive. Instead, I couldn't shake the image of that Biotechnica logo burning on the TV.
"Dad'll look into it," I muttered, though it sounded more like a hope than a fact.
Zoey didn't glance up. You mean you're about to look into it.
I sighed, opening my laptop. "Maybe just a little."
Dad's work habits had never changed; he'd used the same password for everything since before I could read. His precinct cloud account was still logged into the family sync drive, which he'd used to send me case photos once when Benny was part of a K-9 sweep. The login box blinked once, then accepted Benny123.
Hundreds of case folders loaded across the screen, half of them were routine reports, with the rest being heavily redacted. But one title froze me mid-scroll: Noctic Biotechnica - Active Investigation.
I opened it before I could talk myself out of it. Inside were two summary pages and a handful of attached photos. One line near the top was highlighted in yellow:
"Primary subsidiary: NP Holdings. Listed property includes a decommissioned warehouse at Pier 19, still drawing power from the city grid despite inactive status. Awaiting jurisdictional clearance from federal oversight, no warrant issued."
The notes beneath it were thin, but a timestamp showed the report hadn't been updated in months. I exhaled through my teeth.
"They know about it... and they're just sitting on it."
Zoey sat up, her illusion flickering away. You've got that look again. The 'I'm going to ignore good advice and break into something' look.
"I just need to see it," I said quietly. "If the building's still live, something's running inside."
Trilla's voice brushed my mind, calm but uneasy. And if your father finds out you were in his files?
"He'll chew me out for a week," I muttered, closing the laptop. "But I'll survive."
Zoey smirked. Then we'd better make it worth it.
I zipped my jacket and slung my bag over my shoulder. "Grab your things. We're going to the waterfront."
By the time we reached Pier Nineteen, the rain had swallowed the streetlights. The warehouse loomed like a carcass, walls blackened with soot, its sign hanging crooked above a chain-link gate:
NP HOLDINGS – AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
Looks inviting, Zoey muttered dryly.
We squeezed through a gap in the gate, my boots crunching on scattered glass. Inside, the silence was thick enough to feel.
Rows of shattered cryo pods lined the floor, their glass panels fractured like ice. Vapor drifted from the open ones, curling around our boots.
Trilla hovered silently, her psychic light painting the frost a sickly green. This place hurts, she whispered in my mind. Like it remembers screaming.
One of the nearest tanks was labeled Specimen 09-C. A Magmar was slumped against the glass. Its flame sack extinguished, and its skin looked blistered and gray. Dried blood trailed from its eyes and nose down the glass.
The next tank contained the half-melted remains of a Vaporeon, its fins fused together as the coolant bubbled faintly beneath it.
Zoey stepped closer, ears pinned flat. They were experimenting on them.
At the far end of the room, a cryo pod lay shattered outward. Thick claw marks raked the metal interior, and a smear of dark, dried fluid led away toward the catwalks above.
Zoey's mane lifted, static prickling along her fur. We're not alone.
A metallic creak echoed overhead.
Before I could react, a red blur dropped from the rafters with a deafening clang.
Scizor hit the ground like a meteor, punching a crater into the concrete. It was badly damaged. One of its wings hung at an angle, the steel plating blackened around the edges. Its eyes flickered with a mechanical red pulse, not rage, not confusion, but programming. A collar around its neck blinked in rhythm.
Zoey barely rolled aside as his claw carved through the air where her head had been. The strike split a steel drum clean in half.
"Holy-!" she spat, leaping backward.
He spun with terrifying precision, locking onto me next.
Trilla raised her hands, psychic light crackling between her fingers. He's not in control, Atrea!
"Hold your fire! Just hold it!"
The ground blurred under him, one heartbeat, he was ten feet away, the next, his fist was an inch from my face.
"ATREA!" Zoey shouted.
Trilla's Protect flared to life just in time.
Scizor's pincer slammed into the invisible barrier with a metallic thunderclap, sparks scattering through the air. The psychic shield spiderwebbed under the impact, the entire floor vibrating from the force.
Trilla's eyes glowed fiercely as she strained to hold it. He's too strong!
I stumbled back, heart hammering. The control collar around his neck flashed red, syncing with each convulsion of his body. Whoever had done this had turned him into a weapon that couldn't stop swinging.
Trilla, hit the collar now!
She refocused, dropped the shield, and sent him sprawling back with a pulse of psychic energy to make distance. Just as he recovered, she launched a precise psychic burst that sliced through the smoke and struck the collar. It sparked violently, the red light flaring once before the device cracked apart and fell, hissing, to the ground.
Scizor staggered back, panting in short mechanical gasps, the glow in his eyes dimming to gold.
He looked between us, confused, trembling, half-expecting another order that never came.
I lowered my voice. "It's over. You're free now."
He didn't move. His claws trembled, half-lowered. There was no telepathic reply, no sound, just a broken machine breathing like it was alive again.
Then the roar of engines cut through the rain outside.
Zoey's ears flicked. Visitors. Three trucks, closing fast.
The main doors slammed open, slashing white light across the dark. Six armored figures stormed in wearing black-and-blue tactical suits with helmets that reflected the rain.
The lead one barked through a distorted comm. "Target C-13 located. Retrieve the asset. Terminate the witnesses."
I froze. C-13, the same number scrawled across Scizor's broken pod.
Zoey, Smoke Screen now!
The room erupted in black haze as Zoey released a rolling cloud of dark mist. The soldiers opened fire blindly, bullets ripping through the shadows and machinery.
Trilla hurled a Psychic wave that blasted one into a crate. Scizor snapped his claws together with a shriek of metal and launched himself at the nearest grunt. His fist hit like a hammer, folding the man's armor inward.
"MOVE!" I shouted.
Zoey tackled me sideways as a burst of gunfire struck a support beam behind us.
Scizor turned toward the shooters again, raw fury radiating off him. One bullet clipped his leg, making him stumble. I could see it, the doubt flickering behind his eyes. He didn't know whether we were friend or foe.
I grabbed his arm, ignoring the heat of the metal under the rain. "They're coming to cage you again! Run with us or die here!"
For a moment, he just stared, frozen between instinct and terror. Then he glared, not at me, but at them, and swung his claws wide, slicing through a fallen beam to block their line of sight.
I thumbed open my phone and hit the PAP emergency override. The screen flared red:
"Law Enforcement Signal Received. Response Imminent."
The ceiling exploded as a PAP PokéBot crashed through the skylight, landing hard enough to rattle the walls. Its voice boomed, deep and mechanical:
"Authorization verified. Hostile activity confirmed. Deploying suppression assets."
Two Poké Balls shot from its shoulders in streaks of light.
A Tyranitar materialized first, slamming its fists into the floor with a roar that shook the building. An Aggron followed, tearing through a stack of crates, armor gleaming like gunmetal in the firelight.
The gunmen froze, then scrambled for cover.
"Targets confirmed," the PokéBot droned. "Neutralization in progress."
Tyranitar's Stone Edge burst through the floor, forcing the soldiers to scatter as Aggron plowed into another, hurling him across the room like a rag doll.
"Zoey! Trilla! Out!" I yelled.
We bolted for the side exit, the storm swallowing us as the warehouse behind erupted in chaos. Tyranitar's roar echoed through the night, followed by the screech of bending steel.
Scizor followed close behind, limping but fast.
One of the soldiers burst through the smoke behind us. He leveled his rifle and fired. Before I could react, Scizor shoved me aside and took the hit across his armored shoulder, sparks flaring. He didn't stop.
He grabbed my arm and yanked me forward, practically dragging me down the pier.
The warehouse behind us collapsed in a plume of flame and smoke.
Halfway down the boardwalk, I stumbled, dropping the Poké Ball in my hand. It rolled to a stop beside Scizor's foot. He looked at it, the rain beading on the polished surface, the firelight reflected in his eyes.
For a heartbeat, he hesitated. Then he reached down and touched it.
The ball flashed red. He vanished inside.
The capture clicked clean, no resistance. Just quiet, final acceptance.
Zoey exhaled beside me. Well... that's one way to say thank you.
Trilla floated closer, her telepathic voice softer. He didn't trust your words, Atrea. He trusted what you did.
I nodded, breath still shaking. "That's all I could ask for."
The PokéBot's voice echoed faintly from the ruins behind us:
"Hostile forces subdued. Awaiting retrieval."
I stared back at the rising smoke curling against the rain. "They're not gone. Not really. Whatever Biotechnica was, it's still out there."
Zoey rested a clawed hand on my shoulder. Then we'll burn every piece of it to the ground.
The bus hummed steadily beneath me, rocking just enough to lull half the passengers to sleep. I wasn't one of them. The rain had faded somewhere past Olympia, leaving streaks of light on the window as the sunrise bled through the clouds.
Zoey was slouched across the aisle, disguised as a girl in a hoodie with her legs kicked up. The illusion flickered whenever the light shifted, revealing flashes of her fur beneath.
Trilla sat beside me, hands folded neatly in her lap. Her eyes were open but distant, staring out the window. I could feel her thoughts brushing against mine, faint as the hum of the bus tires.
You didn't sleep at all, she murmured in my mind.
Didn't feel like it.
You're still thinking about him.
I glanced at the Poké Ball clipped to my belt, the one Scizor had chosen himself. The metal gleamed faintly in the morning light.
He nearly punched a hole through my chest, Trilla. You'd be thinking about him, too.
Zoey stirred, one eye opening. He almost skewered you. And now you've got him on your team. You really know how to pick 'em.
I smirked tiredly. You say that like it's a bad thing.
I say that like I'm investing in hazard pay.
Trilla gave her a patient look. He's frightened, not cruel. There's a difference.
Zoey stretched, cracking her knuckles. Let's hope your therapy sessions cover confusion-induced homicide.
I tuned them both out after that, watching the palm trees replace the pines. The smell of salt grew stronger as the bus pulled into the terminal in Santa Monica. Skyla was next on the list, and I couldn't have been more excited.
The warmth hit the second I stepped off. The sun here wasn't gentle; it burned through the last of the morning haze, catching on wet pavement and glass. Santa Monica was alive, humming with the sound of Wingulls and waves and far-off traffic.
Zoey whistled low. Not bad. Might actually dry out for once.
I found a quiet stretch of park near the boardwalk, far from the joggers and food stalls, and dropped my bag beside a concrete bench.
"Alright," I said, pulling out my phone. "Let's see what we're working with."
The PAP app chirped when I activated the Field Operations mode. A small silver-blue PokéBot split the clouds before slowing and hovering down until it floated at chest level. Its lens flickered to life in a pale circle of light.
"Request acknowledged. Virtual combat field: analysis mode. Please specify parameters."
"Single-Pokémon assessment. Combat type: observation only. Deploy cluster targets."
"Confirmed."
The grass shimmered as half a dozen hard-light training dummies materialized in a semicircle, each with a faint energy core at its center.
I reached for the Poké Ball on my belt, the one Scizor had chosen himself. "Alright, big guy. Let's see what you can do."
The ball clicked open, releasing a flash of red light.
Scizor emerged in a crouch, claws half-raised, wings twitching. His gaze darted between me, the sky, the drone, and the holograms, assessing everything like a cornered animal.
"It's okay," I said gently. "No one's here to hurt you. This is just training."
He said nothing and just stood there, tension coiled like a spring.
The PokéBot chimed. "Assessment ready. Subject will engage holographic opponents. Motion and energy output will be analyzed in real time. Begin when ready."
I nodded. "Scizor, whenever you're rea-"
He shot forward faster than I could track, his claw glowing silver as it tore through the first dummy's core. The impact shattered the hologram into shards of light.
The drone's voice registered immediately:
"Identified move: Bullet Punch."
Scizor pivoted sharply, wings flaring as he spun into the air, twisting midflight before driving both legs into another target.
"Identified move: Acrobatics."
Two more projections advanced, their energy readings spiking. Scizor met them head-on, claws snapping open. He moved with brutal precision, strikes blurring together until an uppercut finisher cracked the air like thunder.
"Identified move: Close Combat."
He landed in a crouch, crossing his claws in a gleaming red X. I had expected him to run toward the remaining dummy, but instead, the armor plates on his shoulders split, and a glow quickly built up in the cracks. Twin jets of flame erupted behind him and launched his body forward. The connection was catastrophic for the dummy, which exploded in a violent display of hardlight.
"Identified move: X-Scissor."
The field went silent. Scizor stood at the center, breathing hard, steam curling from his armor as the plates shifted back.
Zoey looked at me, shocked.
I didn't know they could do that
My heart raced
"Well, that's the thing... they can't. It seems like Noctis' experiment was successful."
The PokéBot hummed as it compiled data, displaying the readout on my phone:
Subject: Scizor
Move Set Identified: Bullet Punch, Acrobatics, X-Scissor, Close Combat
Estimated Combat Efficiency: 96%
Emotional Regulation: Unstable
Recommended: Rest, monitored exposure to battle conditions.
I lowered the phone, still catching my breath. "You're... incredible."
Scizor didn't look at me. He turned slightly, scanning the empty field like he was waiting for something else to attack.
Trilla stepped forward, her telepathic voice gentle. He's still fighting ghosts.
The PokéBot folded its appendages and hovered back toward standby mode. "Analysis complete. Have a safe and compliant day."
I clipped Scizor's ball back to my belt, squinting toward the coastline. The waves were glittering gold now under the afternoon sun, tourists beginning to spill across the sand.
It should've felt peaceful, but it didn't.
Somewhere behind that calm horizon, I knew the people who'd built the warehouse were still watching. And if they wanted their weapon back, they'd have to take him from me.