Figuring out what in the world happened to Ingo was a long, long track, and there were days when that particular terminal felt like it would always be out of reach.

There were still other days when Elesa felt like she was the only one taking the matter seriously, since the man in question quickly derailed the instant anyone asked him if he could remember something, and his brother was all too happy to roll with whatever flavor of nonsense that day called for.

There was a hierarchy of questions, and while the biggest pertained to whatever caused his disappearance, the most pertinent was why there was a rock stuck in his hand.

And, oh, there was an entire subset of questions dedicated to the rock. What did it have to do with the mirror? Why was it cracked? The rock-type repair kit had worked on it– so what did that imply?

At one point, their attempt to [?] had been waylaid when Ingo started worrying about a partner Pokemon neither of them had met, only for Emmet to point out, thirty seconds later, that he was holding a pokeball in his right hand. There had not been a pokeball in his hand at the beginning of the sentence, nor had he reached into a pocket at any time.

Lo and behold, when the archaic-looking capsule was opened, it released the very Gliscor he’d been fretting over. They’d spent the next ten minutes wrangling it, and then a further hour recording everything else that materialized from– theoretically– the rock. The list included, but wasn’t limited to: five more ancient pokeballs– the contents of which Ingo named ahead of time– an assortment of restorative berries and foreign vegetation, some bitter-smelling purple flowers, twelve woody berries that were, allegedly, apricorns, and more rocks. Mercifully, these ones acted as rocks should, and didn’t adhere themselves to any humans.

They lost Emmet somewhere around Magnezone, too busy considering the potential for multi-battle matchups, but Elesa had dutifully scribbled down everything Ingo plucked out of nowhere. Her list of tally marks fell just behind a loose sheaf of paper spelling out some very concerning sentiments, and she couldn’t help but notice it was in Emmet’s handwriting.

[…]

Which led her to today.

It was not the first time, in the past three years, that someone from Gear Station had contacted her in the middle of the workday. It wasn’t even the most nervous she’d heard Cameron as he’d asked for her advice on something well outside of his job description.

It was, however, the first time he hadn’t had words to describe the situation, resorting, helplessly, to “Hey boss…es?”

A monochrome shape in the background drew closer at the [?], until he stood in frame. With a start, Elesa realized she couldn’t tell who it was. That wasn’t right. She’d known them since they were all kids, and unless the twins were actively messing with her, she could always tell them apart– especially now that one of them had a rock stuck in his hand.

She spotted the offending rock as the conductor offered a cheerful salute, but that wasn’t Ingo.

Further compounding the issue was the quiet but emphatic, “How can I assist?” that accompanied the greeting.

“…what.” Was the entirety of what she managed.

“Ah.” / “Well. We’re not entirely sure either! But the good news is that Gliscor is finally listening to Emmet.”

“Great. What does that have to do with…?” She gestured [helplessly].

“It was verrrry exciting! I– we? I?” / “That’s why I’m here now!”

“Oh gods.” She murmured as comprehension slowly dawned on her, “You’re both…?”

“Yes? And no? As I said, we’re not entirely sure, myself.”

“Give me twenty m– ugh, no, half an hour. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The [?] expression coalesced into recognizable concern and he– they?– leaned in, “Please don’t do anything hasty. We promise you, nothing is wrong. It’s… nice. Safe. I can’t lose me again, so long as I’m like this.”

Elesa bit down on a [?] ‘That’s exactly why I’m worried.’

[…]

Before either could reach for their twin, she stepped between them, a hand on either one as she pushed them in opposite directions.

“Don’t you dare. I just got you unstuck.”

Ingo frowned– properly frowned– and peered around her back, “Were… were you stuck? I hadn’t realized…”

“Nope!” / “I could have left any time. I chose not to.”

“Let me rephrase that.” She said flatly, “I just pulled a couple of magnets apart. I recognize that it’s their nature to [stick] back together, but I’d appreciate it if they stayed apart for five minutes.”

—

Something was up. Elesa couldn’t articulate what gave it away, but she could tell as soon as she walked into the apartment.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, at first glance. [list], and Chandelure was making a menace of herself as her trainer wiped down the counter. After a certain point, he flipped the cloth over and used it to teasingly polish the space between her eyes.

[…]

“First you have to promise you won’t get mad.” Emmet said, followed immediately by a cackle from down the hallway. There was a beat of silence, and, without following to its source, he added, “Never mind. It has become a moot point.”