Chapter 7

	Pequeño Cave: you'd think nothing more of this small cave resting near Verde Town.  Its exterior claimed by avaricious vines and moss of the forest, a passerby would simply mistake it as just a large rock or mound.  But to those putting out the effort to explore it soon realize- its unremarkable, mundane surface was just a camouflage, hiding an amazing power rare to Unido.

	A faint bluish glow illuminated the corridors of the cave, shooing away the darkness sticking to its rocky surfaces.  The Riolu pup led his team, with a small Aura Sphere the size of a marble hovering between his hands to act as his lamp.  Tiny pebbles gave way underneath the team's feet with each step.  All morning it was just one continuous hike through a straight corridor, hunting for the heart of the Dungeon.  “Okay guys, just stay by me and we'll be okay,” the mantis instructor stuttered his young students.  “Traversing through Mystery Dungeons can be a little tricky for beginners: it likes to change its layout a lot.  Just keep your eyes open to any sudden dead ends.  It's not every day we get to walk through one: we only have a small hand full of Mystery Dungeons in Unido.”

	“It's hard to see with Oran's light being so weak,” Pecha huffed from the back of the line.  Without seeing it, as she took her next step, her left foot caught onto a hidden rock.  Her life flashed before her eyes as she tried running out of an inevitable trip, being saved by bumping into the back of Scyther's right leg.  

	The bug turned his worried eyes to the bunny, “Whoa, Pecha, are you all right?”

	She peeled her face from the mantis' calf; after rubbing her sore button nose, she screamed at her brother, “Oran, make the room brighter; I nearly died after tripping on something!”

	“This is as bright as I can make it,” he told her back.  “If I make it any bigger, then I have to throw it.”  He looked to his sister, a wide grin concealing a chuckle cracked across his face, “You're overreacting, Pecha- you don't die from tripping on a ro-”

	Yelping as his right cheek crashed into a hidden object, his Aura Sphere which illuminated the area popped like a bubble, and the cave returned to darkness. A numbing soreness filled his cheek, and the light didn't return until he rubbed it all out with his paw.  As the blue glow returned to scare away some of the dark, he discovered what exactly hit him in the face- a wall.  Oran gave it a few pats here and there with his right paw; it wasn't just a wall- it was a solid wall.  “Hey, Scyther, there's a wall here!”

	“Great observation skills,” the Buneary mocked.

	“Just as I told you,” said the mantis, “Mystery Dungeons like to shift on you.  See if there's any more routes, Oran.”

	Oran waved his light in both directions: to the left side, first- just a corner; to the right side- the path continued.  His brows shot up slightly, and he shouted, “I found it!”  Darkness claimed the newly discovered path, but it failed to deter the Riolu from running into its mystery.

	The Scyther and Buneary gave a collective scream of worry, “O-Oran!  Wait!”,  as they tried catching up to their eager, young teammate.

	Oran ran through the blackened, ill-lit halls of the cave at full throttle, his countless huffs were the only thing he could hear being echoed back to him.  The more he ran, the more the darkness faded from the light marking the end of the tunnel- he saw no reason to stop.  Not with the last floor looking him dead in the face.  

	The tunnel spat him out into a large, spacious area, seemingly large enough to hide a sleeping Legendary.  But something was odd to him: the room was illuminated with no hint of shade, but had no open areas or crevasses for the light to come from.  No use keeping the Aura Sphere around, that's for sure.

	“Oran!”  Two voices called out to him, catching his ear, making him turn his head.  The rest of his team caught up to him, but were almost ready to collapse on the spot from the chase.  

	“Stop, stop doing that!”  Scyther wheezed.

	“Y-yeah,” Pecha agreed in a winded tone, “are, are you stupid or something?”

	“Nah,” the Riolu told his older sibling, “just wanted to see where the path led.”

	The mantis took a slight gulp, and maintained a stable breathing rhythm; though his throat still burned a little from being as dry as a desert.  “What did I say, earlier?”  He asked of the pup with brows narrowed and a wide glare staring him down, but his voice maintaining a leveled tune.

	A gut feeling told him where this was going to end: in Florges' office, with no dinner for the night afterwards.  Maybe an innocent smile could help mitigate the problem, he thought.  But putting it into practice only came off as anxious.  “U-uhm, I-I dunno, Scyther,” he told him, “I forgot.”

	A twitching smile; a look in his eyes desperate to get out of trouble; it was the weakest attempt of playing coy the bug ever saw.  But he returned the gesture with an irritated sigh, giving in to the game.  “Just don't do that again,” he told the pup.  “Florges'll kill me if I lose you guys.”

	Oran's forced smile relaxed into something more natural, wiping his brow and chuckling while a growing weight disappeared from his chest.

	“Whoa.”  Pecha gawked at the stone ceiling above her head; how could it be so well-lit without a single light source?  She never saw anything like It!  “How is this even possible?” She asked in awe.

	“Anything is possible in a Mystery Dungeon,” the mantis told his student, “and magic let's it happen.  Heck, even our explorer badges use the same magic the Mystery Dungeon uses to eject fainted intruders- that's how we can teleport back to the guild quickly. Only problem is: it's one-way-”

	“THEN I'LL HELP YOU TAKE THAT WAY BACK-!”

	A burly shout echoed within the room, startling the team.  Was there someone else in the room with them?  Their eyes swept left to right, up and down for the perpetrator- they saw nothing.  Was hearing voices a part of the Mystery Dungeon's magic, also?  “Where are you?”  Scyther asked the voice.  “I thought this cave was uninhabited.”

	“YOU THOUGHT WRONG-!”

	The sound of crumbling rock alerted the mantis, coming from behind him.  He looked up: a boulder the size of a large hill descended rapidly above the group, intent on crushing the three on impact.  Scyther and his rapid succession of Fury Cutter turned the heaping stone into a heavy rain of rubble and small pebbles; no damage to the kids, except from the rocks pelting them in the head as they tried covering themselves with their arms.  A cloud of fine dust wafted in front of the bug, revealing a Graveler with a smug grin plastered across his face as it cleared.  “That was uncalled for,” the bug told him, “you could have hurt the children!”
	
	“Do you really think I give a hoot?”  He asked.  “For years you have been trespassing into my cave; for years you have been disrespecting my home by calling it vacant-!”

	The Rock Pokémon ran his mouth for what seemed like forever- he must really like the sound of his own loud voice.  Tuning out of his autobiography, Oran leaned over to the Bug-type and whispered, “Do you know this guy?”

	“Can't say that I do,” he whispered back.  “I thought this cave was unoccupied; that's why I kept using it to train my students.”  He turned to the Buneary, “Hey, Pecha, why didn't you alert us there was someone here?”

	“My danger sense only picks up on potential threats,” she told him.  “This guy's just all talk-”

	“SILENCE!” The Rock-type's booming yell rattled the walls, shifting the ground with its echo. The team readied themselves in anticipation; such a display of power meant the Graveler prepared to throw them into a storm of hurt.  He aimed a menacing glare at Scyther, “For three years I mistook you and your posse as lost travelers; but you keep coming back to insult me!  You and your bunch have disrespected me, Graveler the Cave King, for the last time, bug,” he snarled.  “YOU WILL PAY FOR ALL THOSE YEARS OF TRESSPASSING!”

	He curled his boulder-like body into a ball, and spun rapidly in a single spot; one he released himself, there was no stopping him and his Rollout attack.  Scyther and his team had barely enough time to jump out of the way, missing the high-speed rock by a hair, but it wasn't the last they've seen of him.  Graveler took a hard turn for another go at the group, this time, aiming straight for a vulnerable Buneary lying on her knees.  

	Instead of moving out of the way, she froze in place like a statue in distress.  Crippled by delay, she had no time to jump out of the way. Her eyes stared on to the approaching rolling stone in a fixed gaze of anxiety- she was done for.  

	A blue streak appeared, and in front of her stood her little brother, ready to take the hit for her.  He crossed his arms over his chest, spread his footing for a more solid stance, and readied himself for impact.  Launching the Riolu straight into his sister's lap, Graveler ricocheted off his Endure, flying high in the air for a handful of seconds before landing back on Earth with a thunderous crash behind the siblings.

	“Get your butt off me, Oran!”  With her brother pinning her to the ground, she pushed him off her body.  Getting back up on her feet, she quickly dusted herself off of his loose fur.  “Next time you take the hit for me, do a better job.”

	“It hit harder than I thought,” Oran muffled casually with his snout dug into the floor.  He pulled himself up from the rock for a quick breath.  “This guy doesn't fool around.”


	“Guys, are you all right?”  Scyther shouted in concern.

	A rough voice cut the younglings off from speaking to their teacher, “WORRY ABOUT YOURSELF, BUG!”

	The moment he turned his head towards the Graveler, Scyther gave a sudden painful howl from being torn apart by a rapid volley of a thousand sharp rocks, blasting him feet away from his students.  It all happened so fast: one second he was going to help them- the next he found himself unconscious, squished inside a Scyther-sized imprint in a Dungeon wall from the sheer force of a Rock Blast.  Several cuts and and bruises grazed across his light green exoskeleton. Even the very blades of his scythes managed to chip from the weaponized debris; what were once objects of personal and articulate care became dull, and gave off a look of abuse and neglect.

	“Scyther!” the children shouted for their mentor, but he laid there in his personal hole, unresponsive.

	“Too bad, kiddos,” the Graveler mocked, a smug grin stretching across his face, “looks like your compadre will be out cold for a little while.  I squashed him like the cockroach he was, and it wasn't even satisfying to look at.  I wonder- how long will you both last without your friend around?  Oh well, serves you right for trespassing into someone's territory.”

	“Please let us go,” the Buneary begged, with tears building up her eyes.  “We'll leave you alone- just stop!”

	“It's too late for that!”  Watching that smug grin of his stretch to disturbing lengths sent a chill down the Buneary's spine.  Staring directly into his tightly clenched teeth froze her right where she stood.  It was as if her danger sense was arguing with itself: does she take the first opportunity to run away?  Or stay where she was, in hopes of preventing any sort of provoked chase?  All she knew was- it just now decided to alert her of the threat.  The chill spread from her back to everywhere else, and her eyes were locked in a wide stare as she watched the giant rock walk towards them, and she was going to let it.

	But all it took to snap her out of her self-applied hypnosis was a firm pat on the back from her brother.  “Pecha,” he said, “come on, we can't have you freaking out right now!  We gotta do something!”

	She stuttered, “B-but, but, Scyther's unconscious; how are we going to beat this guy without him?  W-we're too weak to fight him!”

	“You said that while we fought that Quagsire,” he told her, “and we still managed!  Don't focus on whether or not we're weaker than him, Pecha: focus on beating him with me!  We're explorers- we beat Pokémon like him!  Let's take him on together, Pecha, for Scyther.”

	She never could match the same level of assurance and determination her brother always exhibited.  One look in his eyes, and she saw a fire ready to burn the place down.  What's her excuse?  She couldn't even dent the iron wall of timidity her danger senses built and told her to hide behind.  But maybe this morning, she could learn how to ignore her sense.  Against her own grain, she stuttered, “O-okay.  I'll do it, for Scyther.”

	The floor trembled with each heavy step the Graveler took, succumbing to the weight of his feet and leaving behind a shallow trail of prints.  He hovered above the children, with a sick grin of glee while cracking all four of his knuckles in a rhythmic orchestra ringing throughout the cave.  “Playtime's over, kiddos,” the Graveler said to them in a gruff tone.  “You're about to learn firsthand why trespassing is a bad idea.”


	A sizable mound of mail appeared on Guildmistress Florges' office desk back at the guild , just asking to be sorted and given to their respective recipients.  Among the piles of hot pink, white, and blue envelopes, one package caught her fancy: a small sac the size of her palm, its membrane being prodded by something inside of it, with a tightly folded letter snagged on its lace that kept it shut.  It addressed to no one on any of its outside faces.  But when she opened it up: “To Florges Guild”.  She unraveled it entirely like a map, until it revealed to her its entire message:

	Dear Florges Guild,

	I would like to thank you again for rescuing my beloved wife, Dedenne; seriously, I can't be any more thankful to you and your services!  Even though Dedenne said her rescue could have been a little less...sloppy...but I can tell she's also grateful.  She may not admit it, but I think we've become a little closer from that incident with the Ariados.  

	On our way to Cristal Cave, we stopped by a Kecleon shop, and decided to repay your services with twenty iron thorns- I didn't quite have the money to issue a rescue mission.  Who was that team who rescued my lovely Dedenne?  The one with: a Scyther, a Buneary, and that blue one?  I wish to repay them with these thorns- I just couldn't catch their name.  I hope they find a good use for these things.
	
	My sincerest gratitude, 
	
	Pikachu

 	She gave the bag a gentle toss in her right hand a few times; listening to the satisfying light clanking of the iron objects within brought a small smile across her face.  “What a nice Pikachu,” she said to the sac.  “Pecha and Oran will surely love this when they return.”  She placed it aside gently, to the right of her desk.

	But as soon as she laid the tiny purse down, a large sac was dropped by beside it with a heavy thud!  Florges jumped back a little, and looked in front of her with startled eyes: A Lopunny, about a foot taller than expected of her species, wrapped in a light cloth, faded tan cloak that went down to her knees, stood in front of her desk with her hip cocked slightly to the left.  She wasn't your typical Lopunny: her wide eyes were deep crimson, instead of the common bright pink her kind share.  Her eyes may say, “sleepy”, but her smile screamed, “come get some!”.  Just like a flame, she's not exactly known for staying idle.

	Florges took a sigh of relief, one hand firmly placed on her chest to keep her wild heart in place.  “Lopunny, you startled me for a second,” she told her.

	The Rabbit Pokémon shot her a little wink, “Sup, rose butt?”
	
	Florges' eyebrows gave way to a twitching fit, and her porcelain white face turned a bright pinkish, almost red color.  She cradled her ruff of brilliant blue flowers in both hands as her eyes narrowed. “For the last time, they're not roses,” she told her in heated breath, “they're hydrangeas!  And also for the last time, I request you stop using that nickname for me.”

	“Pfft, okay,” Lopunny giggled to herself playfully.  It seemed that yanking the guildmistress' tail fin was her favorite past time- and Florges always walks right into it.  

	The Guildmistress took a second to recapture her elegance,  fluffing her ruff of flowers, though her white skin took a while to return from its bright redness.  She raked the bag brought in by her explorer in front of her, and a pile of two-thousand Poké gleamed in front of her when she opened its flaps. “I assume your mission was successful.”  

	“Meh, it was kinda boring,” she shrugged her shoulders, scratching her chin.  “It was just a bunch of Beedrill planning to use a gummi bar as a breeding ground- nothing remarkable for a Class-C request.  Seriously, you guys should keep some Class-A's around just for me.”

	“You know you could always work around the guild, correct?”  Florges asked.

	“Nah, sounds boring,” Lopunny huffed.  With her right arm flexed straight above her head, she stretched her back out forward, several pops accompanying her squeaking moans.  “Boy, what a week: I got bored with the mission so quickly, I decided to walk home, instead of teleporting back.  I'm beat.”

	“You've always liked the hard way of doing things,”  an irritated Florges sighed.  She fished into the bag, coins clinking against each other as her hand swirled about in the pile.  “But since you're here, I should give you your reward, anyways-”

	“Eh, keep it out for me, later,” Lopunny told her, “I'm gonna enjoy my bed for a while.”  A massive yawn escaped from her mouth, which she blocked with the back of her hand, “See?  Startin' to get the yawns, now.  Just keep it around until I'm ready for it, 'kay?  Bye~”  Waving her hand, she attempted to make her way out of the office.
	
	“There's just one more thing I need to talk to you about.”  Lopunny barely took two steps away from her before Florges caught her in her tracks.  “For the record: I don't appreciate you dropping your children by my feet before you go off on a mission as you just did.”

	“Oh?”  She glared at her boss from the back of her head, a mischievous  smirk stretched from cheek to cheek, though she was wise to keep it from her sight.  “Isn't it a part of being the guildmistress?  I just thought you were good with taking care of children, since you do it all the time.  Were they too much for you?”

	“It is true that it is a part of my job to watch over other Pokémon,” the Florges spoke into her hands, which were clasped together like a bridge which she rested her chin upon.  “What I find distasteful is: a week ago, I just witnessed a mother shove her own children aside, just to selfishly pursue a request that she could complete within minutes if she felt like it.  And instead of immediately coming back home to reunite, she decided to take the long route home because she 'got bored'.”

	“Hey, I'm trying my hardest,” Lopunny whimpered.

	“At what?” Florges questioned.  “You've consistently failed to show me any proper responsibility.  I don't see a parent in front of me: I see someone who refuses to grow up.  Do you want to know why you're not moving up from Silver rank to Gold?”

	“That's a personal choice-”

	Florges rose from her desk, and within seconds she stood face to face with the towering rabbit, staring her in her crimson eyes as if she can see to her center.  “Physically, you can match a Gold-ranked explorer, maybe even a Master explorer; but mentally, you act no better than a newly hatched Pokémon.  Once, I've even considered giving you a Master Star-III ranking, putting you alongside Azumarill and Granbull as the guild's strongest- but your bad attitude sabotaged the opportunity.  That tells me you are self-defeating; you don't care about anything.  Was all of that a 'personal choice'?”

	“Maybe,” Lopunny told her.  Telling from her ignorant grin, she thought this was all just a verbal game.  If there was one skill she mastered during her time at the guild: it was getting under her boss's skin.

	The guildmistress broke her eye contact by turning her head, rubbing at the sides of her skull.  She took one good, deep breath to help quell the veins popping out in her forehead. 

	“Are you serious, right now?” Lopunny referred to Florges' tantrum in a joking manner.  I don't understand why you're so mad at me- I completed the job, and brought back the reward, after all.  If I were you, I'd be mad at me if I didn't.  So just calm your little flower patch down- it's starting to smoke up the place.”

	“I swear, talking to you is the most complicated part of the job,” Florges huffed while massaging her temporal bones.  

	“'Kay,” Lopunny answered back without any interest.  “While you're busy keeping your head from exploding like an Electrode, I hear my bed callin' my name.  See ya~!”  Her cloak flapped calmly as she turned away and walked out of the office.

	Waiting until the coast is clear, the guildmistress sunk her head into her open right hand, taking stable breaths until the pressure inside of her head dissipated. She moved back to her desk to prevent what felt like a fainting spell from overcoming her.  “Oh, Lopunny,” she said to herself while laying her head on top of her hand, “what am I going to do with you?”

	a knock on the side of her door threw her out of her exhausted stance, and she saw the Lopunny poking her head out into the office.  It was a slime chance, but maybe she came back to apologize.  “By the way, I forgot to ask you: have you seen Pecha or Oran anywhere?” she asked.  “I haven't seen them ever since I came back.”


	“Ugh...” Scyther began opening his eyes, letting in the light that was so absent to him for a while.  “Wh-where am I?”  The foggy blots and contours became so clear in an instant: he was in a cave, more specifically inside a wall in a cave.  He began peeling from the hole, and his heavy body plopped right on to the ground, hitting his face.

	“O-ow...”  Stiff and trembling from weakness, he used his scythes as stilts to help push himself up to his feet.  Being off his legs for a while, they first felt light, as if he was walking on air, and he had some trouble keeping himself up.  But he soon adjusted enough to keep himself standing.  “Was I...was I knocked out or something?” he asked himself.  Noting the loose rubble around his feet, and the him-sized crater dug into the sides of a Dungeon, that seemed like the most logical explanation to him.  “How long have I been out for?”

	A barely audible tremble quaking the ground almost sent him back onto his chest.  Near him the Graveler engaged in a battle with his two students.  Beneath the deep-routed worry for them he had, he found himself impressed: working together to give an enemy that highly outskilled them a run for his Poke, his youngsters put up a decent fight.  Even their strategy raised his brows in approval: Pecha would bait the rock into a devastating Rollout attack; when he got too close, she would jump out of the way, leaving Oran to deal with the rolling stone.  With his Counter, the Riolu kept the Rock-type suspended in one spot as he still spun with furious speed, collecting power for his move as his wrists sparked from being ground by the enemy.  For the final piece of the strategy, Oran gave Graveler a simple thrust with his right palm, launching the Rock Pokémon back in a blast of brilliant blue light.  It seemed to the bug their strategy worked every time, and, telling by the look in Graveler's face, it got on his every last nerve.

	He used his feet as brakes while locked in a forceful push by the Riolu's last attack, leaving deep trenches as he stopped himself from smashing into the side of a wall just inches behind him.  He looked at the children, heavy growls for breathing, and vision turning red.  Ever since he picked a fight with the children, the inexperienced explorers were doing a pretty good job at smoothing down his otherwise very coarse body with each attack.  “YOU LITTLE WEAKLINGS!!” He shouted at the top of his lungs, rattling the very dungeon they're fighting in.  “YOU BOTH SHOULD BE GROUND TO DUST BY NOW; HOW DARE YOU MAKE A MOCKERY OF ME, GRAVELER THE CAVE KING, IN MY VERY HOME!!”

	“We're just trying to learn about Mystery Dungeons!” Oran shouted back, pointing a finger at him.   “How were we supposed to know it was occupied?!”

	“IT'S OCCUPIED BECAUSE I SAY IT IS!”  Lifting his right leg straight into the air, Graveler brought it back down with malevolent force.  When the ground gave way underneath his foot, it started off as a slight rumble, but quickly grew to violent quakes that knocked the team off their feet, and onto their chests.  Fissures began to slowly split the ground, creating giant mouths in the floor.  “YOU ALL HAVE DISHONORED ME FOR THE LAST TIME- I HEREBY CONDEMN THIS CAVE!!”

	“S-S-S-Scyther,” Pecha screamed out for him among the appending destruction, “Wh-wha-what is he doing?!”

	The mantis responded, “I-I-I-I-I-I think he's using Earthqua-a-a-a-ake!”

	Large cracks raced up every surface of the Dungeon for the ceiling, and huge hunks of rock began raining down those beneath.  “LET'S SEE HOW YOU LIKE MY MAGNITUDE,” Graveler said.  “AT MAGNITUDE 10, I WILL CAVE US ALL IN!”

	“Guys,” Scyther shouted with the shaking ground stuttering his voice, “we have to stop him!”

	“Pecha knows Attract,” Oran replied back.  “She can stop him!”

	“No way,” she objected loudly.  “He gives me the creeps; I'm not using it!”

	“Use it, Pecha,” Scyther suggested, “or we'll all get squashed!  Please, Pecha, it might be the only way!”

	They weren't listening to her; she didn't want to do it.  She'd rather Attract that Quagsire, again.  But with stones the size of buildings crashing all around her and attempting to entomb everyone, she had no choice: if she wanted to stay alive, she had to Attract the enemy Graveler.  “All right, fine,” she shouted, “I'll do it!”

	Getting back up on her feet was hard enough with the very floor shaking underneath her.  Focusing her energy to her chest, a pink heart began to form.  Now came the hardest part: aiming it.  With the ground having a seizure, it'll be easy to miss- if she did, she wouldn't have the Rock-type under her spell.  But for the safety of her team, she hoped for the best as she let it drift calmly in the air toward the enemy.

	With a lucky shot the heart popped like a balloon on one of Graveler's upper edges, sprinkling him in a fine shower of pink glitter.  “YOU CALL THAT AN ATTACK?!” he shouted.  “THAT WAS THE WEAKEST ATTACK EVER! I DIDN'T EVEN FEEL A- huh-?” the earthquake seemed to calm down along with the Graveler, and the ceiling stopped its rain of death.  His face- first frozen in a twitching expression of confusion- mellowed into pure bliss.  Just a second ago, he had his mind set on killing everyone under a cave-in, but not anymore.

	“Pecha,” Scyther whispered, “I think it's working!”

	Taking paws full of the wool around her hip, she hid most of herself behind the tan curtain, only leaving her head poking out. Her eyes glimmered as if they were freshly watered, but to the stricken Rock-type, she was about to cry.  “Please, don't hurt us,” she asked of him in a frail, timid voice, “we don't like getting hurt.”

	His smile that was fueled by his personal vendetta softened to dopey grin.  What ounce of hatred he felt for the group left him entirely, for the sake of the precious Buneary right in front of him.  “I won't hurt you, anymore,” Graveler replied back in a calm tone.  “I don't want to hurt you.”

	“That's it, Pecha,” Scyther told her.  He rolled his aching body over onto his left shoulder, preparing to tap his explorer's badge to teleport him and his students back home, “just tell him to stay right there, so we can teleport.”

	“Can you do something for me?” the shy Buneary asked of the hulking Rock-type.  “I would really love it.”

	“Anything for you,” the puppy-eyed Graveler said.

	“Can you stand still where you are?” she asked.  “I want to admire all of your refined edges.”

	“I will certainly do that for you.”  Doing as his precious said, he stood still in a single spot.

	A loud ring echoed through the Mystery Dungeon as the mantis tapped his badge, summoning a blinding flash that sent him and his team out of the area.

	Breaking free from the spell he was put under, Graveler's mind snapped back to its original, aggressive self in an instant.  But he woke to find all of the destruction he caused to his own home: the floor was heavily lined with small fissures and cracks, and stones larger than he sank into the ground like jagged teeth- what a complete mess he made!  His four hands tightened into knuckles, and he sulked in the feeling of what it was like to be a Voltorb- built up in the inside, ready to explode at just the slightest irritation.  Gritting his teeth until they were very fine dust, the only way he knew how to vent all of this tension out was to curse the explorer team that made him wreck his own home.  “CURSE YOU, SCYTHER!!” he hollered at the heavens above for the whole world to hear.  “AND CURSE YOUR LITTLE BRATS, TOO!  YOU WILL ALL PAY, ONE DAY!!”


	A choir of Pidgey and Pidove sang within the tree lines surrounding the outside of Guild Florges, catching Scyther and his younglings up to their morning song they missed while inside the cave.  Though, their weary bodies could go without the boiling humidity of the forest.  Continuous huffs stirred the soft soil, until their owners felt strong enough to raise themselves back onto their feet.  Florges' giant stone face welcomed the pair back home.

	“What a morning,” Oran commented, holding himself up by his lap.  “He was sure tough- that guy made my wrists hurt.”

	“Just who was he, Scyther?” Pecha asked, while sprawled on her back across the soil.

	The mantis pushed himself up by the scythes, grunting in soreness, “I don't know, really.”  He got up to his feet, a little wobbly in his knees, but able to manage.  “I think,” he huffed, “he was a Pokémon taking up new residence.  You'd think if he really saw me use the Dungeon for three years, he would've confronted me about it, sooner- it was entirely empty when I used it.  Sure gave me a beating, though,” he said, viewing the countless scrapes and cuts lining his body.  “I saw how you guys handled him- it was amazing!”

	“We did it for you, Scyther,” the Buneary huffed.

	“R-really?”  Hearing that brought him at a loss for words.  Whenever he wanted to say something, no words came out.  All he could do was stare at his students, with water flowing from his eyes as he sniveled.  A sudden, yet comforting warmth invaded him, summoning a growing smile that assured him to count on his little one.  “Th-thanks, guys,” He mumbled.  “You're the best.  I wish I had hands to wipe these tears out of my eyes.”  Taking one big sniffle, he said, “Let's head back inside, before I flood this place.”

	
