Outside the Pokémon Center, the group was about to separate for the evening.
"Sam, it's fine!" Ash exclaimed, fists tightened and full of fervor.
"Let's meet up tomorrow! I'll take on the Canalave Gym bright and early!"
Sam smiled and nodded in agreement.
"All right. Tomorrow. See you!"
"Sam, goodnight~"
"Goodbye, Sam."
"Pikachu~!"
Dawn, Brock, and Pikachu all waved in succession.
The team would rest at the Pokémon Center tonight, a standard practice for traveling Trainers.
The Pokémon Center, while funded by the Pokémon League, wasn't free.
Every year, families throughout the region contributed 100,000 Alliance Coins from the time of their children's birth.
At age fifteen, a child registered their Trainer license and Pokédex and could then freely use the many services of the Pokémon Center: hot meals, Scald hot springs, complete Pokémon healing, restrooms, and more.
Sam, of course, did have a Pokédex.
But he never used it.
Sam was not a typical Trainer.
As a senior League researcher and guarded prodigy in the Alliance's Special Contributor program, Sam had special privileges.
With a yearly salary of five million Alliance coins, he did not have to double up on a bunk bed at the Center with a dozen other Trainees.
What high-level scholar wouldn't live in style?
Sam strolled alone along the twilight-colored streets of Mine Island, where streetlamps glowed and machinery clanged distantly in the background.
Finally, he stumbled upon a star-rated hotel close to the main street.
Even being an industrial area, the mine island drew its fair share of travelers fascinated by steelworks, evolution stones, and historical mining remnants.
As he entered, the front desk staff welcomed him with a courteous but stiff smile.
"Welcome~"
Her makeup was perfect, and her voice serene.
But Sam saw the cracks down below.
Heavy bags under a thick coating of foundation.
A slightly hoarse voice due to sleep deprivation.
Moves that were ever so slightly too slow.
She was tired.
"Hello," Sam said, observing her closely.
"One room, please. And, could you also book two dinners?"
"Mine," he added, looking at Lucario.
"And one for my partner."
The receptionist nodded slowly.
"Oh, yes. Wait just a moment."
She reached for his Alliance card with shaking fingers and punched it into the hotel terminal.
But she erred.
Three times.
Each time, she jerked and made a correction.
Her fingers still didn't stop shaking.
Sam's eyes raked the lobby behind her.
All the hotel personnel appeared the same: sunken cheeks, white skin, red-lined eyes.
Some of them were even tottering slightly where they stood.
"No wonder the pedestrians on the street outside were like that," Sam thought.
"This is not exhaustion. It's sleep deprivation."
He leaned in, voice measured.
"Sorry. I've noticed. Everyone here is exhausted."
The receptionist hesitated, looked left and right, and then returned the room card and Alliance card.
Her professional façade slipped ever so slightly.
With a bitter smile, she whispered, "It's because of a Pokémon."
Sam's eyes narrowed.
"A Pokémon?"
She nodded. "Darkrai."
The receptionist leaned in closer, voice now barely above a whisper, as if she was too afraid even to utter the name out loud.
"Darkrai tends only to appear now and then. A few individuals may have nightmares, but it's one thing…"
"But this time… five days."
"Five full days!"
She glanced up, and Sam could see genuine fear in her gaze.
"Darkrai hasn't vanished at all. It's remaining close to the island. Now, everybody, everybody who tries to sleep, gets drawn into awful, never-ending nightmares."
"No one sleeps anymore."
Her fists were tight on the counter.
"We've done everything. People consume gallons of coffee. Some wear earplugs and burn incense. Others even sleep standing up…"
"But nobody can avoid it. The nightmares always arrive."
"That's why we are like this."
She smiled again.
"Welcome to Mine Island."
Sam did not speak.
He had guessed as much when he saw the condition of the townspeople.
Darkrai.
A mythical Pokémon associated with nightmares…
And if it's actively influencing an entire island, that means something is seriously wrong.
"Thank you," Sam said quietly, accepting the card and going to the elevator.
In the silence of his suite, Sam sat cross-legged on the bed, eyes closed.
Lucario stood guard nearby, calm and alert.
The town outside was dark.
Equipment murmured, but within, everything was quiet.
Sam concentrated on his Aura, the new power thrumming softly within him.
He sensed something distant.
A presence.
Dark… cold… writhing beneath the earth like a shadow near the ocean floor.
"Darkrai," Sam thought.
"You're not merely passing through."
"You're trapped here."
And something is preventing you from departing.
The light of the standing lamp illuminated long shadows on the floor.
Sam sat at the little dinner table, poking a bowl of noodles with weak disappointment.
"Too salty."
He laid down the chopsticks with a gentle sigh.
"The chef must've been half-asleep when he made this."
Facing him was Lucario, struggling to consume a plate of berry salad, usually one of his strong suits.
But tonight…
Even the berries were not right.
Their textures were mismatched, the flavors off-balance, overripe in one spot, undercut in another.
Sam rocked back in his chair, eyes glancing across to Lucario.
"Do you feel anything?"
Lucario's bite paused halfway through, he set his plate down, and looked at Sam.
His eyes glowed softly with Aura light.
"There is something," Lucario's voice spoke softly in Sam's mind, clear and concise now that they could speak directly.
"The aura is weak… but it's nearby."
"Violent. Unstable. Full of destructive intent."
"But…" Lucario scowled.
"It comes and goes. Fleeting. Hard to pin down."
Sam folded his arms, eyes dropping to the floor.
"Unstable… violent… and elusive."
He breathed softly:
"Is it Darkrai's aura?"
Or… was it something else?
Sam shut his eyes, quietly tapping into the Aura power within him.
It pulsed softly within him, enabling him to detect faint life forces through the walls of the hotel.
Dozens of individuals in other rooms, all with poor, uneven rhythms.
Fatigue. Stress. Mental fatigue.
"Luca," he whispered,
"If you can recapture that aura again… we might be able to track the source."
Lucario nodded gravely.
"Luka."
For now, however, Sam shook his head.
"We've been trekking for days across the Psychedelic Forest. I haven't had a decent bath for days… I'm sticky and bruised."
He rose to his feet with a yawn and a stretch.
"Forget Darkrai for now."
"I'll shower first. Then we'll speak."
Lucario went back to his seat, silently focusing on meditation, while Sam went to the bathroom in the hotel.
South of Mine Island, meanwhile.
A group of individuals wearing black was gathering.
Speaking softly, it appears that they are scheming something.