บท 63: Who is Truman and why does he have a show?

Something isn't right with this town.

Serena's phone was left unattended in a market, and, unless that minimum wage worker really didn't care, it should've been cleaned up and taken to the police station.

Also, a quick visit to the canned foods aisle showed another discrepancy. I may not know my brands of bread, but I do know the brands of canned foods within Kalos since those make up 70% of my diet on the road. No brand in that store, and others that I went back to check, exists.

Okay. This town has their own brands of chili. So what?

Well, I don't know. All of the security camera footage I have shows Serena buying baking ingredients and eventually leaving town without a hassle. So, given my impromptu law of probability for Ash's life, something must have gone wrong outside of town. Unfortunately, the local weather report shows that it rained yesterday, so I can't use classic methods of tracking them into the forest…not that I'm any good at those methods anyways.

So, my assumptions are with the food. The can of chili sits in my bag with a heavier weight upon it as it carries unknown consequences. I've sat on a public bench all day, observing people as they go about their days and pondering about consuming that can in my bag.

It may be somewhat justified paranoia, but a shocking number of people have spared glances in my direction.

There are also the cycles: a girl has ridden around the block eight times, the people having conversations outside have been talking for more than an hour, and the movement throughout the city seems to be practiced.

"What about the police?" I mumble.

Much to the stifled disappointment of my observers, I get up from the bench and wander the town to find the police station.

I take a casual pace as I walk down the cobbled path; my shoes tapping with each step. People glance at me as I wander down the street. I'm so tempted to get the heck out of here with my Octillery Arms and run back to Lumiose. However, my concern for Serena is making me make stupid decisions.

Plus, keeping my dangerous robotic limbs hidden seems like a partially good idea. I mean, if I'm knocked unconscious, then the security measures will activate again. There's a good chance for loss of life if we get there.

In a tucked away part of town, I find…the police station. At least, I think I do. Vines have overgrown the windows, and the paint is worn and chipped. The wooden door is splintered, moldy, and the hinges are completely rusted.

I gently push open the door with a creak.

*POMF*

The door falls off the hinges and shatters into a million pieces. I give an instinctive, sharp inhale at the property destruction and take in the police station interior.

Put simply, there's a high chance I will leave this building with several new species of mold in my lungs. This place looks like the sprinkler system depressurized, and nobody cared enough to clean up the water damage. The floor, walls, and furniture are more mold than processed materials.

The only thing still alive is the Officer Jenny at the decrepit counter with a wide smile on her face and a thousand-yard stare at the door I came through. I take a wandering path up to her, finding that her gaze never wanders, nor has she blinked at all since I came in.

"Hello… How can I help you?" She says in a near whisper. She's only taking the most shallow of breaths, and she still refuses to meet my…anything, even as I wave my hand in front of her.

"Hi…? I'd like to ask some questions," I offer, attempting to raise a response from her.

"Hello… How can I help you?" She repeats, tone unchanged from her dreamy state.

Well, I'd sick Gwen on her, but I also don't want to send an unprepared child into the human mind. Who knows what could go wrong? Gwen could accidently make her forget how to breathe.

I take a deep inhale as I consider my options. "This is dumb," I whisper to myself, but I have to be honest. Love and concern for our friends sometimes makes us do dumb things.

So, if I going to be dumb, I'm going to be smart about it.

I write up several duplicate emails with a small note of where I am, what I'm doing, and a data stream containing my GPS coordinates to follow if I don't respond within 30 minutes. I send one to Courtney, another to my mom, and the final two to the actual police—both the station in Lumiose and the international force for safety.

Hopefully, in the international case, the right person takes notice.

I turn around, leaving the Officer Jenny to her own machinations…which I'll have to remember to fix, and make my way for the door, ready to eat the possibly poisoned food.

*WHACK*

I see the stars… They're angry.

The floor looks lovely today. Is that blood?