When it comes to psychic beings, “consciousness” can be difficult to
define when they, with an extrasensory potential that comes as naturally
as breathing, can reach out and study their surroundings even in what
may appear to be the deepest of slumbers to even the most careful
observers. The MewTwo, had been doing this for months and, having
gleaned all it could from it’s containment, saw that it was time to
leave, doing so with a surge of telekinetic force that sent the broken
shards of its containment vessel into everything, and everyone, in the
room.
It floated gracefully to the floor, landed in one of the few places not
littered by rubble or a corpse, and studied its birthplace with open
eyes for the first time. An emergency klaxon blared incessantly,
drowning out the sputtering of broken machines and the sounds of heavy
boots charging towards the door.
The steel doors flew open with an ear splitting KLANG, spilling forth a
platoon’s worth of guards armed to the teeth. This facility forgoed the
use of pokemon for security, instead depending on the assured lethality
of firearms. Their intent to kill was clear as day as the MewTwo skimmed
their simple minds, but even so, it didn’t so much as flinch, but
instead made its way to the now open exit.
“Don’t you move a muscle, mutie!” Shouted a guard that exuded
self-proclaimed importance, “this little gadget here can blow that bomb
in that brainy head of yours to bits! So it would make us and the boss
real happy if you just stayed put!” He waved a simple remote high above
the crowd of helmets and rifles, his fingers already gracing the switch.
Still the MewTwo kept its casual pace towards the door, focusing more on
the new tactile sensation of walking on a real floor than on the high
caliber firearms pointed at its head. Its footsteps were heavy as it
approached the crowd of guards, occasionally stepping on a shard of inch
thick glass, cracking it into ever smaller pieces, and stepping away
with its skin unscathed by the razor sharp edges. Row by row, the guards
began to give way to the psychic, stepping aside as they nervously
waited for their order to open fire.
“Don’t you ignore me! Stay right there!” the chief barked, as much at
the monster as his own men, but they continued to give way like peasants
before royalty, or some other lowly thing before a great beast. The
MewTwo felt a measure of pride in this and kept its eyes squarely at
exit, denying any of the humans the dignity of even the slightest
acknowledgment of their show of force.
The chief, of course, was not happy.
“LAST CHANCE!” he barked, squaring his shoulders as he brandished his
detonator, as if he was trying to make himself look big to the psychic
that stood head and shoulders above him.
The MewTwo came to the last row of men where the chief was standing.
Shaking with his teeth bared, he was like a small threatened animal to
the MewTwo as it finally paused its advance. The psychic looked sidelong
at the chief, it considered reaching deeper into his mind for anything
useful, but decided he wasn’t worth even that thoughtless effort.
Instead, the MewTwo cleared its throat, the first sound it had made
since exiting its pod, and spat squarely at the chief’s feet before
continuing down the hall.
The chief and his platoon watched in stunned silence as it trudged down
the hall, its green, clubbed tail waiving high in the air with an air of
catlike regality, as if they were never there to begin with. The guards
looked to their chief who was shaking in anger, the detonator rattling
in his white knuckle grip.
By the time one of the men spotted the specimen’s acorn sized bomb at the chief’s boots, he had already pressed the button.
The MewTwo already knew about the bomb for weeks thanks to its psychic
eavesdropping; removing it was trivial. It smiled as the explosion
illuminated the hallway for a brief moment followed by a rush of warm
air and soot blowing down the hall. It didn’t need to be psychic to know
there wasn’t much left of the guards to chase after it.
Klaxons continued to blare down the corridor as the Mewtwo resumed its
stroll to the exit. It turned a corner, finding a set of blast doors
worthy of a battleship locked down in an attempt to keep it contained.
The psychic didn’t slow down, it merely raised a three fingered palm and
clenched it into fist. Following its cue, the 4 tons of steel shuttered
and buckled, tore from its hinges with an intense shriek and wadded
itself into a ball like a piece of tin foil, revealing another squad of
woefully unprepared guards on the other side.
With a thrust of its arm, the wad of door was launched down the corridor
like a cannonball, making bloody mincemeat of the squad and leaving a
respectable hole in the next blast door further down.
Much of the MewTwo’s walk went on like this. Before long one squad was
able to get some shots off on the monster before it sent the bullets
flying back at them once it had a good look at the curious lumps of
copper and lead after stopping them mid air. Another squad tried to
flank it through an adjacent corridor, but with a raise of its arm the
dozen or so brave men were reduced to carmine stains on the concrete
ceiling as the gravity in their hall flipped upside down and increased
tenfold. The psychic knew the shortest path out of the maze-like
facility, having already memorized it during its time in stasis, though
it was in no particular rush. After all, it had only just achieved
mobility in its short lifetime, it had no reason not to savor the
moment.
It also occurred to the monster as it glimpsed at the minds of the
dozens of guards whose lives it ended with the flick of a wrist that
they all had names, giving the monster a moment of pause. Not out of
guilt, an insect with a name was still an insect, after all, but because
it realized it had yet to come up with a name for itself.
During its time in stasis it was called a number of things, a serial
number, MewThree, and several other offhand names hardly worthy to be
the name of something of its might. It dismissed ‘Mutie’, considering
the brain that thought up such a name was now painting the walls of the
lab. No, its name had to be its own.
Perhaps, ‘Rex’, a word meaning ‘king’. The MewTwo was indisputably above
these humans by several orders of magnitude. There was also something
inherently powerful about a monosyllabic name, an immense title despite
its simplicity. It mulled over the name. Rex. The MewTwo decided it was
fitting, at least for now.
The psychic that was now named Rex continued down corridors, unbothered
by the labyrinthine tunnels that would have stumped a lesser intellect.
Rex was also unfazed by the ambush they already knew they were walking
into as they came to an intersection of halls.
No matter how quietly they may have been whispering their plan, their
thoughts full of misplaced confidence in their abilities may as well
have been blaring louder than the alarms. Only four of them. More scared
of the consequences of fleeing than confronting the psychic monster.
Endearingly foolish.
As they passed the first corner, Rex raised their right hand and,
without needing to look to aim, caught a guard by the face as he lunged
with a knife that clattered to the floor. Not a second later, Rex
grabbed by the throat a second guard who believed she saw an opening
when the psychic’s eyes were on the first guard. The third received a
stomach churning kick to her midsection that sent her tumbling further
down the hall before she ever came close to restraining the monster, and
the fourth, who had hoped to slash Rex’s throat while their back was
turned was treated to his legs being swatted out from under him with a
swing of Rex’s powerful tail, leaving him writhing on the floor.
Rex stood victorious surrounded by the quartet of guards groaning in
pain and struggling to catch their breath. Their tail was held high with
pride as it swished through the air. Dispatching humans with their
psychic powers took considerably less effort, but there was something
viscerally satisfying in the tactile sensation of their own natural
brute strength, even though it meant soiling their limbs with these
lowly beings.
Rex glanced over their shoulder at the guard writhing on the ground and
clutching his broken legs. The green clubbed tail that was waving like a
tassel in the wind was brought down like a hammer across the man’s
chest, shattering ballistic plate armor and bone like fine china. A
smirk crept across Rex’s face as the man’s groans’ turned to screams and
then, with another slam, a low gurgle. It was perhaps not unlike having
a tree falling on them, over and over again.
With a final, thunderous whip crack across the man’s throat, he was
dead and thoroughly decapitated. Rex cleaned the viscera from their tail with a flick and turned
their attention to the guards in its grip, now looking deservedly more
terrified.
The guard with his face palmed in Rex’s right hand wore a combat helmet,
a good defense if someone were to assault the facility with firearms,
but worthless in terms of protection from Rex’s grip. The guard was
desperately pulling at the monster’s wrist while kicking his legs in a
pathetic display. His boots occasionally glanced harmlessly off of Rex
but he found no leverage to pry himself out of the MewTwo’s clutches.
After a few moments of fruitless struggling and whimpers ticking their
palm, Rex began to tighten their grasp around the man’s head. There was a
brief surge of worthless thrashing from the hapless guard as he made
one last desperate attempt to escape before the shell of his helmet
cracked and shattered along with his skull as Rex clenched their palm
into a fist with a hideous, meaty KRRUNCH. Muffled shrieks were quickly
replaced with the pitter-patter of blood dribbling to the floor from the
mess between Rex’s fingers.
When the body crumpled to the floor with a wet thump, Rex looked to the
woman clutched by the throat in their other hand. Rex peered into her
thoughts, finding deeply rooted, animalistic terror abounding in every
corner of her mind which grew all the more intense as Rex’s smirk curled
into a smile. Such a simple, narrow consciousness, Rex mused as it
combed through the woman’s mind, chained to a meager perspective of
reality, hardly even sapient. They found thoughts of training in tactics
that proved worthless, memories of faces with names Rex didn’t care to
know, nothing useful. Baubles of thought, at most. With a sigh, Rex
tightened their grip around the woman’s neck. Like the man before her
she thrashed, clawed, and kicked in a desperate struggle until Rex felt a
reassuring SNAP between their fingers. The woman went limp, and her
thoughts slipped away as the psychic discarded her lifeless body like a
paper cup.
Rex was almost surprised to find the guard he had kicked was still lying
supine across the floor and clutching her midsection. Rex did not
believe the blow was particularly powerful, but perhaps they were not
quite yet in tune with their true physical strength after leaving
containment only a few minutes ago. Perhaps, Rex considered as they
psychically repelled the blood drenching their right hand, she simply
needed more motivation beyond the swift demises of her companions.
Rex resumed their advance, now walking directly towards the last
surviving guard. Their plodding footsteps echoed in the hall, growing
louder and louder, rattling what few fixtures could be found nearby. It
wasn’t necessarily that Rex was stomping down harder with each step, but
that Rex decided that their test in ‘motivating’ their final victim
would come in the form of the psychic increasing the downward pull of
gravity on themselves several times over. For a being of their strength,
Rex was not slowed by any considerable margin, but the concrete under
their feet began to crack. Rex was curious just how much they themselves
could withstand, but decided that test could come later.
Sure enough, the last living guard began a slow, pained retreat away
from Rex, scooting away awkwardly on her back just as Rex’s steps began
to dig footprints into the concrete like it was wet sand. Rex’s tail
carved a winding trough the poured concrete floor as they let it drag behind them and
drew ever closer until they raised a two toed foot over the human’s
torso, pulverized concrete sprinkling down from the sole onto her
armored uniform. She raised her arms and opened her mouth to voice some
vain plea to dissuade them but by then, several thousand pounds of
supreme psychic being stepped down on her chest, pushing past her feeble
block with ease, shattering her armor, and making her rib cage one with
the floor with a cacophonous SKKKRNCH.
No scream or plea escaped her gaping mouth, just
the sound of the last breath she’d ever take forced past her lips. Soon
after, her mouth, frozen agape in agony, was stopped up by the sole of
Rex’s other foot coming down atop her face. Having spent much of their
lifetime in a tube, Rex’s skin was soft and uncalloused by age or use,
though this was of little comfort to the guard when there was several
tons of weight behind that soft sole bearing down on her face. Her skull
disappeared beneath Rex’s step with a familiar crunch, and with their
next step Rex left the bloody craters, returned to their original weight
and left what little remained of the ill fated skirmish behind them.
After that, Rex found the halls relatively empty. The rest of the guards
having either regrouped deeper into the facility or abandoned their
posts completely, leaving behind only the occasional alarm that Rex
would tear out of the wall to spare themselves some of the incessant
blaring. With no obstacles except for the occasional blast door to be
torn from its hinges, Rex’s attention turned towards their plans beyond
the facility and away from their immediate surroundings just long enough
for them to be mildly surprised when they turned a corner to spot a
human carrying a large tray of refreshments. The human themselves seemed
to be paying little attention as well,
“Hey do you know where I can- oh shit-“
A quick glance into their mind revealed them to be an intern from the
lab that grew Rex, though that was already plainly obvious from their
lab coat and lanyard. Rex took a step towards the intern and the tray of
beverages clattered to the ground as they dropped it in a panic,
sending lukewarm coffee and tea spilling into a large puddle on the
floor. Rex supposed their walk had gotten a bit stale since they dealt
with the ambush a dozen or so minutes ago. They combed through the
human’s mind as they considered what would be the most entertaining way
to deal with this witness: Coiled and crushed in their tail? Reduced to a
red mist? Pyrokinesis?
Rex kept pace as the human slowly backed away, their legs too stiff from
fear to run. They couldn’t help but feel gratified over the terrifying
visage that Rex posed in the human’s mind, the cold, piercing eyes; the
towering form, the unknowable psychic prowess the- Thighs?
Rex paused in their tracks. The human, recognizing their own train of
thought the very next instant, pushed the thought away with the mental
equivalent of sweeping it under the rug, but it was too late. Rex pried
at the poorly hidden intrusive thought, finding its underlying roots of
curiosity and lust and yet leaving the psychic with more questions than
answers for the first time in their short existence.
Rex looked down at their legs and hips. Compared to the average human,
their lower body was vastly more voluminous and perhaps somewhat more than the average replication of their own
species, if the memories of the now dead lab technicians were reliable.
Rex took a handful of their own thigh, finding a layer of firm yet
supple flesh atop the biosynthetic muscle that could leave a dent in a
tank with a single kick. Now suddenly aware of the aesthetic properties
of their body, Rex concluded they didn’t dislike their shape and heft.
It had a certain appeal. Rex wondered for a moment why they didn’t
detect any thoughts regarding their shape beyond their height and reach
from any of the other personnel in the facility, but it probably had
something to do with the fact they were all preoccupied with being
killed.
When Rex looked up, the intern had made scarcely any progress with their
retreat, being clearly distracted by the sight of the psychic studying its own ass and thighs, and doing a poor job of hiding it.
Rather than relay this fact telepathically, Rex felt inspired to give
their thigh a hearty slap as they looked the scared and confused intern
square in the eyes. The message was understood rather quickly.
The intern struggled to formulate a coherent defense, “Hey- hold on! I
didn’t mean- It was just for a second! I’ll just get out of your way and
we can forget all about it! Okay?”
The intern turned to run, but Rex was faster. Much faster. Fast enough
that the puddle of tea and coffee was thrown into the air in a fine mist
as Rex levitated in front of the human faster than they could blink.
Rex loomed over the short intern whose face only came up to around their
stomach, hands resting on the hips that diverted the intern’s attention
for one fateful second. The human looked for a way around the psychic,
but Rex blocked their left flank with a mighty green tail, while a wall
of reinforced concrete blocked their right. Feeling compelled to do so
the first time in their existence, Rex delivered a simple telepathic
message. It was clear as a voice in the intern’s mind and was rich with
an air of regality despite being utterly soundless,
Too late.
Before there was a second for the intern to even think about turning
around to run, Rex took a step to the right with their left leg, pivoted
away from the intern, and slammed the broadside of their thigh against
the human’s chest with a hefty hip check. By Rex’s standards, there was
little force behind the ‘playful’ blow, the the disparity in their mass
meant it was more than enough to send the intern backfirst against the
concrete wall.
The intern groaned and winced, as they slumped against the wall and
checked for anything broken. They hoped for a moment that they’d been
let off easy until they realized the MewTwo parked their ass just inches
away, giving them an even clearer picture of the monster’s curves than
before.
Thighs that dwarfed the human’s torso like marble columns curved out
into thick, meaty asscheeks, crowned by a mighty tail held high above
them. Residue from the containment vessel still glistened in the sterile
light of the hallway, giving the smooth, grayish skin an almost
pearlescent sheen. The intern couldn’t fathom why the specimen of all
things would be so cheeked up. Maybe the nutrient levels of the amniotic
bath were off which led to overdevelopment or perhaps there was a
distinct advantage to immense leg girth that was lost on someone of
their clearance level, but in any case, the MewTwo possessed tremendous
heft and it was more impossible than ever to keep thoughts of it out of
their mind and away from the intrusive psychic.
Tell me, human. Is it more than you bargained for?
“Get back!” the intern shouted. On reflex, they raised their hands to
try to keep the MewTwo at bay and their palms sank into the near perfect
globe of an asscheek. It was very warm, dense, doughy, and several
times larger than the intern’s head. Their palms couldn’t come close to
hiding, or holding back, its sheer heft and curve. The MewTwo, simply
put, was terrifyingly enormous.
The intern stood there trembling with handfuls of supreme being assmeat
in their grasp. As amazing and wickedly enticing that cheek may have
felt in their hands in all its pillowy glory, it dawned on them that
they’d just dug their own grave.
“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
Oh? The regal voice intruded, Laying a hand on your better? A peasant could lose a hand for such insolence.
Rex raised a hand capable of tearing the armor from a tank like a peel
from an orange. Immediately the lowly little human tensed in horror,
waiting for the moment they’d be grabbed by the wrist to have their arm
torn from their socket.
The hand swung down with force, but instead of snatching the human’s
arm, Rex slapped their hand across their thigh once again, jiggling
their fat curves with enough leftover force to send a jolt down the
intern’s arms.
But in my infinite grace, I shall grant you the title of ‘throne’ instead.
The intern tried to voice another apology or plea for their safety, but
Rex’s right asscheek slammed them against the wall once more with a
meaty FWUMP before the words ever came out.
Looking over their shoulder, Rex found their asscheek utterly eclipsed
the human’s skull as its full weight came to rest against it, leaving
only their feeble arms visible as they desperately searched the
circumference of the thigh pinning them to the wall for some way out.
Their screams were barely audible, muffled beneath the layers of
impervious skin, muscle, and fat. It was the faintest murmur,
periodically interrupted by the clap of the human attempting to appeal
to the superior being’s mercy by tapping out.
Cute.
What Rex could still hear loud and clear were the human’s thoughts.
Their earlier awe and arousal was now buried beneath a mountain of fear,
pain, and dread. No matter which way they tried to turn their head the
doughy flesh engulfing, enveloping them held them in place, denying them
precious outside air and leaving only a tiny pocket of air already in
their lungs already growing stale. They clutched at the cheek, grabbing
handfuls of the fat rump in the faintest hope of prying them at least a
hair away from their face for a sip of air, but it all amounted to
little more than a frantic caress of Rex’s curves.
Who was Rex, the intern wondered? It had to be this thing’s name, but it
was never given a proper name in the lab, and yet they simply knew them
now as Rex, and it wasn’t hard to guess why as Rex’s soundless voice
entered their mind through the horrific bulk.
“Groping and bleeding on me with a split lip hardly amounts to what I’d
call resistance, but I suppose that’s to be expected from a worm as
pathetically desperate as you.”
Rex punctuated the message with a weighty grind left to right and back,
bracing with powerful legs as they rearranged the intern’s facial
features.
Try to at least pretend you don’t want to die such a humiliating death.
The intern, like anyone, would occasionally wonder how they would one
day die, but never in a million years would they ever consider being
murdered as an erotic curiosity beneath the rear end of a renegade
bioengineered super weapon for a single errant thought. Like an ant
under a steamroller, they knew they didn’t stand a chance, but the
animal survival instincts within them struggling for air hadn’t quite
caught up with that fact.
Their struggle reinvigorated by Rex’s terrifying remarks, the intern
clawed at the MewTwo’s soft skin, frantically dragging their nails
across the vast, soft globe of cheek enveloping their face and across
the great, meaty thigh compressing their ribcage. They wrapped their
arms around that thigh, wide as a tree trunk, and tried to wrestle it
away, heaving with what little strength or leverage they had to spare.
Alas, Rex didn’t so much as flinch no matter how deep the human dug
their nails, accomplishing nothing more than scraping away at a thin
layer of dust and filing down their nails against impenetrable skin. The
only thing that moved on Rex’s thigh was the supple flesh surrounding
it as it squished under the human’s miserable excuse for a grapple,
piling and rolling against the human’s arms like a sack of wet sand as
they actually tried to lift the curvaceous psychic. Beyond that, the leg
stayed in place except when Rex pressed it deeper against their
victim’s chest to feel their ribcage slowly flatten out. To Rex,
smirking as they peered down at the sorry display, the intern’s
delicious struggle looked more like a passionate hug if it weren’t for
the flood of despair flooding out from the victim’s mind.
Their entire body screaming for oxygen that wouldn’t come, blocked by an
immovable ass, the intern’s struggle began to wither. It was all but
certain to the intern that their life would end engulfed by the object
of their momentary curiosity.
Just as everything, even their own thoughts seemed to become distant and
numb, the pressure released and the intern was thrust back into reality
as they crumpled unceremoniously against the wall.
Everything, from their battered head, to their bruised shoulders and
collarbone and down to their creaking ribs, hurt as the intern took in
wheezing, labored breaths into their starved lungs. There was the
metallic tang of blood on their lips and the light of the hallway was
blindingly bright to their swollen eyes, but they were alive. Feeling
some smidgen of assurance by the absence of Rex’s oppressive voice in
their head, the intern turned to crawl away, looking forward to whatever
dark corner they could hide in until this whole snafu blew over, but
when they reached their arm out to catch themselves, they didn’t find
the floor.
They flailed their arms about in the blurry haze . The wall was still
there but they felt nothing beneath them. But what were they sitting on?
Didn’t they fall to the floor?
Gradually, their eyes adjusted to the harsh light. The floor was still
there, several feet below them as they were held aloft by some invisible
force. Their heart sank into the pit of their stomach. Rex stood over
them tall as ever, half turned with arms akimbo and grinning with
sadistic pride. The intern spotted a meager smear of blood across the
monster’s right cheek as their voice filled their mind again.
How odd. Humans can create a being of ultimate power, yet they're
helpless against the weight of a single glute. But, worry not. I am not
so cruel as to let you become acquainted with only half of my
posterior.
“No. No! No no no no no- '' the intern blithered. They held out their
arms again, more out of a plea for mercy than offering any hope of
holding back the beast.
Rex’s face didn’t show any hint of mercy as they turned away again and
snatched the human’s arms by the wrist with each hand and pulled
roughly, leaving the human utterly defenseless as their face landed
between the MewTwo’s cheeks with a meaty PLAP!
Any pretense of restraint on Rex’s part vanished as they yanked on the
human’s arms, their supple curves offering little protection as they
muffled the pop of dislocated shoulders. Muffed too, were the interns
screams for help, reduced to pleasant vibrations against Rex’s skin.
Pops and cracks continued to erupt as Rex clenched down on the skull
buried deep in their cheeks, the layer of muscle beneath the plump fat
becoming steely and rigid as a vice around the temples and jaw,
squashing the human’s last ditch plan to bite their captor.
It wouldn’t have worked, anyways.
And Rex felt good. Snuffing out the other humans that stood in their way
and believed they held any sort of dominion over Rex was immensely
gratifying, but this? This was satisfying on a more carnal level. To be
desired in one moment, and feared in the next, or both all at once had a
certain something to it that Rex, in all their vast intelligence,
couldn’t quite place. If there was a poet somewhere within these walls,
perhaps Rex could glean the right words for it, but in any case, they
were a supremely powerful and beautiful being, and breaking this human
beneath the weight of that power and beauty felt very, very good.
Rex thrust their hips back, keeping their grip on the human’s wrists as
they slammed them against the wall again with enough force to make the
lights in the hall flicker. Bracing against the floor, they ground their
prey against the wall, feeling their features pop and flatten against
their weight. The human had long since stopped forming coherent words in
their concussion riddled brain, replaced with general raw emotions and
concepts of escape, dread, helplessness. The cruel psychic lapped it up
and thrust upon them their own thoughts of power, gratification, pride,
and carnal excitement, burying them psychically and physically in the
desire that Rex made their own.
Eventually, Rex pulled away from the wall and lingered there for a moment to deliver a final message to their prey.
It’s been fun.
Die.
With legs that could press several tons, Rex thrust their hips back one
final time with immense, violent force, shattering reinforced,
military-grade concrete and human bone alike against their ass with an
explosive KrBOOM!
Rex released their grip on the wrists and stepped away, leaving whatever
remained of the intern in the middle of a deeply cratered wall,
spider-webbed with countless cracks. Rex’s hands attempted to dust the
rubble from their body, before giving up and flinging it away with
telekinesis, as they admired the aftermath of their experiment with the
laboratory intern.
The intern was an nearly unrecognizable tangle of broken limbs lying within the recess of the cratered wall, the occasional twitch or shudder being the only outwards signs of life. Rex, on a last second whim, did not actually take the intern’s life.
Through their telekinetic power, Rex willed the most vital parts of
their victim, the heart, the brain, at least one of the lungs, and a
handful of others picked more or less at random, to survive the final,
catastrophic impact in a functional, but far from unaltered state. It
would have been a delightful distraction to snuff them out like the
others, but the cruel twist of fate for them to go on living knowing
they had been wholly and absolutely brutalized within an inch of their
life, by all things, the back end of a psychic being was intriguing. Assuming they didn't bleed out before the paramedics arrived, but that was hardly Rex's concern.
Rex looked at a security camera aimed at their general direction. They’d
been aware, but unconcerned of its presence the moment they entered
this stretch of hall. Rex raised a hand, considering to crush the
device, but reconsidered and nudged its view to further down the hall,
ensuring whoever was on the end would see a new, subtle bounce in the
MewTwo’s steps and the sway of that pert and deadly rear as they resumed
their trip to the exit.