This actually isn't the first time I thought about in in years.
I was thinking about it last night when trying to imagine which pokemon would be run a Jurassic Park situation and Beeheeyem came to mind as the white coat scientists running around trying to not get killed by a Dracovish that just broke out of its tube.

>>58925608
Thats an interesting scenario

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Me on the bottom left.

>>58925321
It has been a decent time for beeheyem fans.
It appeared in the anime semi recently, some streamer forgot how miracle eye works and went an entire playthrough unable to use beeheyem properly and people often remember him when trying to come up with underrated pokemon to shitpost about, this isn't the first beeheyem thread this month as an example.

>>58925617
It's part of this fic that's in my head. This is mostly background fluff for one location though.
So imagine a PMD type of world where the smart pokemon with IQs in the thousands actual do shit with all that brain power. They start studying the world and reviving fossils. Eventually that gets boring so they start doing gene splicing like in the later Jurassic Park movies producing the gen 8 fossil mons.
Eventually fossil research clues them into mega energy (because mega aerodactyl is said to be what it actually looked like back then), they take it as far as they can and pokemon partner up so have controlled mega evolutions with another pokemon holding the key stone.
They continue researching until they discover tera energy, which they use to power more machines and start pulling paradox mons into the world. The future ones are used as security, the past ones go into the park. The park is in the middle of a futuristic city, like a pit in the middle of a chrome doughnut.
Beeheeyem are like the middle tier scientists running things below the park. They're working under a mustache stroking Alakazam.

Stuff happening with hyperspace wormholes and Galar particles is being researched in a different city with more of a superhero aesthetic.

>Dude Miracle Eye lmao

Aldith had made a small, cleverly concealed campfire. Cynthia could see the faint, orange glow through the stretched, translucent stomach wall if she strained her eyes. She could hear Aldith humming, the sound of a brush stroking scales. “Who’s my good, good boy?” Aldith murmured. “You’ve done so well today. Taken the strongest this region had to offer. Just imagine how many weak, delicious trainers we can find for you to swallow up now. I hope they can put on a show as good as this one.” Seviper purred, the vibration a deep massage that shook Cynthia’s entire world. Cynthia’s strength was fading. The frantic struggles had become weak shifts. The screams had become continuous, muffled whimpers. The reality was inescapable. They were going to digest her alive. Aldith wasn’t bluffing. This was her end. With a final, shattered whimper, she pressed her face against the slick, hot stomach wall and whispered, her voice raw and broken, “Please… please let me out… I’ll do anything… I don’t want to die like this…” Aldith heard it. She stopped grooming and leaned close, her voice a venomous whisper against the scales. “Anything? It’s too late for anything, champion. Your might, your ability… it all ends here. As nutrients. Now hush. Your squirming is just the appetizer. The main course is yet to come.”

The air in the clearing on Route 210 was still, the only sound the gentle rustle of leaves in the ancient Sinnoh pines. Cynthia had sought this isolation, a moment of peace away from the adoring crowds and the pressures of the championship. Her long, luxurious white coat was unbuttoned, her distinctive black hairpieces gleaming in the dappled sunlight. She was utterly alone.

Or so she thought.

The attack came with a speed that belied the attacker’s size. A coil of violet and black muscle, thick as a tree trunk, shot from the underbrush. It wrapped around her torso with a force that drove the air from her lungs in a pained gasp. Before she could even cry out, a second loop pinned her arms to her sides, crushing them against her ribs. Her vision swam, the world tilting as she was lifted bodily from the mossy forest floor.

“Wh-what?!” she managed to choke out.

“Hello, Champion.” The voice was a smooth, mocking contralto. From the shadows of the trees, a woman stepped into the clearing. She wore the stark black and white uniform of Team Plasma, the jagged red ‘P’ a brand of malice. Her hair was a severe cut of dark brown, her eyes sharp and calculating. This was Aldith. And the creature constricting Cynthia was her Seviper.

But this was no ordinary Seviper. Cynthia’s silver eyes, wide with shock and dawning terror, took in the monstrous serpent. It was gargantuan, its body longer than a bus, its muscles rippling with predatory power beneath scales that shone with a sickly, venomous luster. Its head was larger than her torso, its maw capable of swallowing a Snorlax whole. Two massive, dripping fangs, each as long as her forearm, glistened with promise mere inches from her face. The sheer, overwhelming size of it stole her breath anew. This creature had consumed more than Pokémon. The predatory intelligence in its yellow eyes spoke of a long, grim history.

“A fine specimen, isn’t he?”

Aldith purred, stepping closer. She reached out and patted the Seviper’s neck, and the beast let out a low, rumbling purr of pleasure that vibrated through Cynthia’s trapped body. “My darling has quite the appetite for… obstacles. And you, Cynthia of Celestic Town, are the biggest obstacle in Sinnoh.”

Cynthia struggled, a futile twist of her hips and shoulders. The coils tightened in response, squeezing a pained whimper from her lips. Her mind raced. Her Pokéballs! They were clipped to her belt, just under the edge of her coat. If she could just reach one… Garchomp. Her partner. Her salvation.

“Don’t bother,” Aldith said, as if reading her thoughts. With a casual, cruel efficiency, the Plasma grunt’s hand darted to Cynthia’s belt. She didn’t unclip the Pokéballs. Instead, she produced a small, humming device from her pocket and pressed it against the capsule containing Garchomp. A sharp, discordant buzz emitted, and Cynthia felt the Pokéball grow unnaturally cold and inert against her hip. A jammer. “No calling for help. A champion is only as powerful as the Pokémon they use. And you, my dear, are currently using none.”

A cold, profound dread, deeper than any she’d ever felt in battle, seeped into Cynthia’s bones. Oh, Arceus. No. Please, no.

“Let me go,” Cynthia pleaded, her voice trembling despite her efforts to sound commanding. “You have no idea the consequences you’ll face. The International Police–”

“The International Police?” Aldith threw her head back and laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “That bumbling fool Looker? He’s been chasing shadows for months. I slipped into Sinnoh right under his nose. I’ve been watching you for weeks, Champion. Your routines. Your solitary walks. Your pathetic need for ‘peace and quiet’.” She gestured to the empty, silent woods. “You practically delivered yourself to me

And when they come looking for their missing idol, they’ll find nothing. I am a ghost. And you… you will be less than dust.”

Aldith’s hand moved from the jammer to Cynthia’s boots. With a sharp tug, she began to pull them off. Cynthia cried out, not in pain, but in a surge of humiliating vulnerability. Her bare feet, pale and suddenly so small, were exposed to the cool forest air. “A little token of our esteem,” Aldith sneered. “The mighty champion, reduced to a barefoot snack.”

“Stop this! Please!” Cynthia’s composure shattered. Tears welled in her silver eyes. “Why are you doing this?!”

“For a cause greater than your title, your prestige, your wealth,” Aldith said, her voice dropping to a fervent whisper. “For a world where Pokémon are liberated from the tyranny of trainers like you. Your power is an illusion. And today, we shatter it for all of Sinnoh to see.” She leaned in, her breath hot on Cynthia’s ear. “Your title and history ends inside my pet’s gut.”

Before Cynthia could form another plea, Aldith gave a sharp nod to the Seviper. “Now, my beauty. Take her. Head first. And take your time. I want to savor this.”

The massive serpent’s head reared back, its jaw unhinging with a wet, tearing sound that made Cynthia’s stomach lurch. Its maw opened into a cavern of pink, muscular flesh, glistening with saliva. The twin fangs, now slick, framed the dark tunnel of its throat. The smell of digested meat and acid wafted out, cloying and horrific.

“No! NO! ARCEUS, HELP ME!” Cynthia screamed, her body thrashing with a strength born of pure terror. It was useless. The coils held her fast, positioning her horizontally. Aldith placed a hand on the back of Cynthia’s head, guiding her towards the waiting abyss.

“Say goodbye to Sinnoh, Celestican,” Aldith taunted. “Think of your little protégé, Dawn. What will she do without her mentor? What will become of your precious Pokémon under Team Plasma’s care? All your strength, all your wisdom… ends as snake chow.”

The Seviper’s jaws lunged forward, engulfing Cynthia’s head, her shoulders, in a single, smooth motion. The sensation was a nightmare of wet, suffocating heat. Saliva, thick and warm, slicked her hair, her face, streaking across her skin. She screamed, but the sound was muffled, swallowed by the living flesh surrounding her. She felt a powerful, rhythmic swallowing motion begin at her head, pulling her deeper. Her arms, still pinned by the external coils, were now forced behind her back as the serpent’s internal muscles took over, pressing them into the tight, constricting walls of its esophagus. They were immobile, locked in a fleshy vice.

Aldith watched with rapt, sadistic delight. She helped guide the process, pushing on Cynthia’s hips as the Seviper worked its jaws over the champion’s chest. “That’s it, my love. Nice and slow. Feel her struggle. She’s the grandest meal you’ve ever had, isn’t she? All that tall, proud frame… just packed with nutrients. A fitting end for someone who was always better as a statistic than a battler.”

Cynthia’s mind was a whirlwind of panic and despair. I failed. I failed my region. I failed Dawn. My Pokémon… Garchomp… I’m so sorry. The swallowing pulls were relentless, inescapable. She felt her breasts compressed, then engulfed by the tight, muscular passage. The exquisite fabric of her coat and her black pants offered no resistance; she could already feel them growing slick and beginning to dissolve against the digestive secretions.

Outside, Aldith continued her gloating monologue, her voice slightly muffled to Cynthia’s trapped ears. “You won’t be alone in there, you know. My Seviper has quite the resume. There was a spunky little trainer from Unova… Hilda, I believe. So arrogant. She lasted two days of begging. Then there was that triathlete from Undella… thought she could swim away from us. She became a particularly rich broth.” Aldith chuckled. “Oh, and the Goldeen girls! Three redheads, preening for a beauty pageant.

They sobbed for hours as the acids started to work, realizing their looks were turning to sludge. Poetic, really.”

Cynthia’s legs kicked wildly, her bare feet flailing in the open air—the last part of her visible to the world. Aldith watched them with a smirk. “Look at that. The mighty champion, kicking like a Magikarp. One final show for me.” With one last, powerful gulp from the Seviper, Cynthia’s feet vanished into the maw. The serpent’s jaws closed with a definitive, wet snap. A large, human-shaped bulge now traveled slowly down the length of its throat, visibly distorting its scales.

It was done.

Aldith walked alongside the swallowing bulge, her hand resting possessively on the Seviper’s side. She found a particular prominence—the curve of a breast under the scales—and pressed her fingers against it, feeling the firmness of Cynthia’s trapped form beneath. “Hello in there,” she cooed mockingly. “Comfy? You’ll be in there for quite a while. A week, perhaps. Constant, agonizing pressure. The acids will melt your clothes first, then your skin, then your muscles… down to the bone. It’s not a quick process. We want you to feel every moment of your demotion to nutrients.”

Inside the stomach, which hadn’t yet received her, Cynthia was in a world of claustrophobic horror. The walls of the esophagus pulsed and squeezed around her, milking her downward. She was curled into a fetal position, her arms painfully pinned behind her. She tried to scream again, but it came out as a pathetic, wet gurgle. Tears mixed with the serpent’s saliva on her face. Arceus, why? Why such indignity? No champion should end like this!

Aldith’s voice filtered through the layers of muscle and scale, distorted but clear. “Ghetsis will be so pleased. Admin Aldith has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? All thanks to you. The great Cynthia, reduced to a stepping stone.” She keyed a radio on her uniform.

“Target acquired and contained. The conquest of Sinnoh is underway. No one will be spared.”

A crackled voice replied—cold, authoritative. Ghetsis. “Excellent work, Aldith. A definitive statement. Report to Point Gamma when the… cleanup… is complete.”

“With pleasure, Lord Ghetsis.”

Aldith turned her attention back to the massive bulge now settling into the Seviper’s midsection. The stomach, a vast, sac-like chamber, was already filling with potent, churning acids. Cynthia slid into it with a soft, wet splash. The sudden, burning touch of the gastric fluids on her legs made her jerk violently. It was a searing, itchy pain that promised unimaginable torment.

“I should thank you,” Aldith said, sitting on a log and starting a small campfire as the Seviper coiled contentedly, its new meal causing its middle to swell impressively. “You’ve made my Seviper so very happy. His vitality… he’s telling me you’re the richest meal he’s ever had. All that training, all that fine living… it really does make for premium sustenance. The greatest living legacy of the Celestican people, soon to be the richest shit in the Sinnoh forest.”

Hours began to pass. The sun dipped below the trees. Not a single soul, trainer or Pokémon, disturbed them. As Aldith had predicted, the wilderness Cynthia loved had become her perfect tomb.

Inside the stomach, the nightmare intensified. The acids rose, soaking through her dissolving coat and pants. The fabric fell away in tattered, sticky scraps. Soon, only her delicate lingerie remained, and then that too began to disintegrate. The burning sensation spread, a relentless, itching fire over her skin. Her sacred family heirloom necklace, a treasure passed down through generations, dug into her collarbone before the chain finally dissolved. Her black hairpieces slipped from her melting hair, sinking into the murk. These, she thought with a hysterical, internal sob, might be all that’s ever found of me.

Aldith groomed her Seviper by the fire, lovingly wiping scales as she outlined her plans. “Once he’s digested this meal, we’ll be stronger than ever. Next on the list… that Kalosian actress, Diantha. We’ve been tracking her for months. She loves her private gardens in Coumarine City. It will be almost too easy.” She smiled at the squirming bulge. “Did you hear that, Cynthia? Your friend is next. Just like that missing Pokémon Ranger, Solana. Do you know what was left of her? Nothing. Not a bone, not a strand of hair. Just her radio, found in a pile of my Seviper’s waste. She’s fertilizing a Unovan forest now. You’ll be fertilizing this one.”

Cynthia’s mind, frayed by pain and terror, latched onto the names. Diantha. Solana. Oh, no… A fresh wave of despair washed over her. Her weak struggles caused the stomach walls to undulate, squeezing her tighter. She was completely encased, every inch of her tall frame molded by the powerful, digesting organ. The pressure was immense, crushing the air from her lungs in short, ragged gasps. She could feel the acids working, a tingling, burning dissolution that had already begun to redden her skin.

“Please…” she whimpered, the sound lost in the gurgling, churning chamber. “Let me out… I’ll do anything…”

Aldith, as if sensing the feeble plea, laughed by the fire. “Listen to her squirm! If that was the region’s champion, just imagine how many weak, delicious trainers we can find for him to swallow up. I hope they can put on a show as good as this one.” She keyed her radio again. “Confirming secondary target, Elesa of Nimbasa, is also in the bag. The Unova circuit is losing its spark.”

The confirmation was another nail in Cynthia’s coffin. There was no hope. No rescue. The acids climbed higher, now lapping at her chin. She tilted her head back, trying to keep her mouth and nose free of the vile liquid. The smell was overpowering—acidic, organic, and tinged with the scent of her own dissolving clothes and hair.

She thought of Dawn, her bright, hopeful face. She had failed her. She thought of her Pokémon, locked in their jammed balls, helpless. She thought of the people of Sinnoh, who believed in her strength. That strength was nothing. It had led her here, to be slowly, intimately unmade in the gut of a monster.

Aldith stretched, looking at the contented Seviper. “Finish her off slowly, my love. Let her savor her fate. A week of agony for a lifetime of false glory. A fair trade.” She leaned close to the distended stomach, her voice a venomous whisper meant to penetrate the layers of flesh. “Your god isn’t listening, Celestican. There’s only the gut, and the grind, and the glorious future of Team Plasma. Sleep tight, Champion.”

And as the campfire crackled and the stars emerged over the deserted Route 210, Cynthia, the Champion of Sinnoh, could do nothing but weep silently as the digestive embrace of her conqueror tightened, and the long, humiliating process of her un-becoming truly began.

“Your title and history ends inside my pet’s gut.”

The whisper was a venomous kiss against her ear, cold and final. Cynthia’s wide, silver eyes, locked onto the dripping fangs hovering inches from her face, couldn’t blink. The world had narrowed to those twin points of venom, each longer than her forearm, glistening with a mucus that sizzled faintly where it dripped onto the pine needles below. The serpent’s breath was a hot, rancid wind, reeking of digested meals and raw, primal power.

This can’t be… Arceus, no…

“Seviper, my glorious one,” Aldith’s voice crooned from somewhere behind Cynthia’s trapped head. “Finish her off slowly. I want her to squirm as long as possible.”

The command was punctuated by a fresh, agonizing squeeze. The massive, purple-scaled body coiled around Cynthia tightened, forcing the air from her lungs in a pained gasp. She was held aloft, several feet off the forest floor of the isolated clearing on Route 210, her arms pinned brutally behind her back within the snake’s powerful loops. The constriction was absolute, a relentless, living pressure that made her ribs creak and her vision spark. Her own choice—a solitary hike to clear her champion’s mind, to be alone with her thoughts far from trainers and cameras—had become her trap.

How did it come to this?

It had been an ambush of terrifying simplicity. One moment, she was admiring the ancient stones lining the path, the next, a flash of purple from the treeline. The Seviper was a monster, a behemoth that dwarfed any alpha specimen ever recorded. Its body was as thick as a mature treetrunk, muscles rippling beneath scales that looked harder than steel. It moved with a speed that belied its gargantuan size, striking not to bite, but to entangle. Its tail had lashed out, dragging deep, ragged furrows in the earth as it whipped around her legs, then her torso, binding her in an instant.

Her hand had flown to her belt, fingers scrambling for the cool, familiar metal of a Poké Ball.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Aldith had tutted, emerging from the shadows. She was a woman of stern, sharp features, her Team Plasma grunt uniform modified with an arrogant flair, a smug certainty in her pale eyes. In her hand was a small, buzzing device. She’d pointed it at Cynthia’s belt, and a sharp, discordant jamming frequency had whined through the air. Cynthia’s Poké Balls had vibrated, their release mechanisms locking tight. The click of failure was the loudest sound she’d ever heard.

Garchomp… my love, where are you?! The despair that thought brought was a colder chill than any the Sinnoh wind could muster. Her partner, her ace, was trapped in stasis, unaware, helpless. I’m so sorry.

“All that power,” Aldith sighed now, her voice dripping with mock sympathy as she walked into Cynthia’s limited view. “All that prestige. And it boils down to this. A woman, alone, with no one to hear her scream. A fitting end for a champion who thought her strength was her own, and not merely borrowed from her beasts.”

“P-please,” Cynthia managed to choke out, the pressure on her chest making speech a struggle. “You don’t… have to do this. The International Police… Looker…”

Aldith threw her head back and laughed, a harsh, barking sound that scared a flock of Starly from a distant tree. Not a single Pokémon had come to investigate the champion’s plight; the clearing remained eerily silent, complicit. “Looker? That bumbling fool? He couldn’t find his own shadow with a map and a flashlight. We’ve been in Sinnoh for months, dear Champion. Watching. Planning. You were so easy to track. Your love for ‘solitude’… it made you a perfect target. And when you vanish? They’ll scour the region. They’ll weep. And they’ll find nothing. Because we’ll be gone, and my Seviper here will have processed the evidence.”

The Seviper’s massive head swayed, its forked tongue flicking out to taste the fear on Cynthia’s face.

Its jaws began to unhinge with a sickening, wet pop-pop-pop of ligaments stretching. The maw that opened was a pink, cavernous tunnel, lined with rows of backward-curving teeth designed for guiding prey in one direction only. The heat and stench that poured forth was overwhelming.

“Now, now, don’t struggle too much,” Aldith said, her tone conversational, as if discussing the weather. She placed a hand on the Seviper’s neck, guiding its head. “It just makes it more exciting for him. He does so love a lively meal. Remember that spunky little brunette from Unova? Hilda, I believe? So arrogant, so sure she could take on the world. She kicked and screamed for a full ten minutes after the gullet took her. It was… musical.”

Cynthia’s mind reeled. Hilda? The missing trainer… rumors of a Team Plasma resurgence…

“And then there were those three redheaded fools from Kanto,” Aldith continued, stroking Seviper’s scales. The serpent let out a low, rumbling purr of pleasure, its massive body vibrating around Cynthia. “Goldeen cosplayers, if you can believe it. Primping and preening for some pageant. They sobbed when they realized my Seviper’s acids would reduce all that meticulous beauty to… well, to sludge. He slurped them down one after the other. A delightful appetizer.”

“Monster…” Cynthia whispered, tears welling in her eyes.

“No, dear. A visionary,” Aldith corrected. “I’m doing this for a cause greater than you, your championship, your prestige, or your wealth. A world liberated from the tyranny of Pokémon bondage. But liberation requires… removal. Of obstacles. Like you.”

With a firm, helping push from Aldith, the Seviper’s gaping maw lunged forward.

Cynthia’s world vanished into wet, suffocating heat.

The jaws closed over her head, then her shoulders.

She screamed, but the sound was muffled, swallowed by the thick, muscular flesh pressing in from all sides. She felt the backward-pointing teeth grip the fabric of her distinctive black coat, not tearing, but holding, as the powerful throat muscles began a rhythmic, undulating pull. No no no NO!

Aldith’s voice was distant, distorted. “Good boy… take your time. Savor the champion of Sinnoh. Such a tall, statuesque meal… you’ll be nourished for weeks. And such fine, natural fabrics she wears! No nasty synthetics for my darling. She was always better as snake chow than a battler, anyway.”

The ingestion was a slow, relentless, and deeply intimate violation. Cynthia felt her body being consumed inch by agonizing inch. The pressure was immense, a full-body compression that squeezed her breasts flat, forced her trapped arms deeper behind her back, and molded her legs together. She kicked, her leather boots thrashing in the open air, a futile protest against the inevitable.

She could feel Aldith’s hands outside, helping to guide her descent, pushing her feet forward when they caught. “Almost there, my pet! Just the main course to go!”

The champion’s mind fractured under the sensory onslaught. The heat was a living thing, already seeping through her coat and pants. The darkness was absolute, smothering. The sounds were the deafening thunder of the serpent’s heartbeat, the gurgle of its systems, and the wet, squelching glrk-glrk-glrk of her own body being drawn deeper. She pleaded to a God that felt infinitely distant. Arceus, why? Why this? No dignity… just… food…

Her thoughts spun to her protege, Dawn, so bright and hopeful. I’ve failed you. I’ve failed everyone. She thought of her grandmother in Celestic Town, of the ancient legacy she carried. The greatest living legacy of the Celestican people, Aldith had mocked. And I end as serpent shit.

Her feet, still booted, were the last to go. She felt Aldith grasp her ankles, giving one final, celebratory shove.

“A champion’s final curtain call! Give the audience a wave!”

Cynthia’s feet, kicking wildly, disappeared into the maw. She felt the jaws snap shut behind her heels with a definitive, bone-shaking thud. The last sliver of light vanished. The last connection to the outside world was severed.

She was fully engulfed.

The journey down the esophagus was a slick, crushing slide that seemed to last an eternity. The muscles massaged and pulverized her form, squeezing her into a more manageable shape for the stomach. She felt her coat and pants, so expensive, so iconic, beginning to dissolve almost immediately against the slick, chemical-laden walls. The acidic secretions burned, a fierce, prickling heat that promised far worse to come.

Finally, with a final, sickening drop, she was deposited into the primary stomach.

The space was tighter than she could have imagined. The walls, thick and powerfully muscular, conformed to her curled-up body with a intimate, dreadful precision. She was curled in a fetal position, her arms pinned painfully behind her, her face pressed against her own knees. The heat was now a blistering, oppressive force. The air—what little there was—was thick with corrosive fumes and the scent of her own melting garments.

It’s so dark! It’s so hot!

Outside, she heard Aldith’s voice, cheerful and close. “Oh, he’s got you all tucked in! Let’s see…” A pressure, a hand, pressed firmly against the Seviper’s scaled side, molding itself over the distinct bulge that was Cynthia’s upper body. Aldith squeezed roughly, fondling the shape of Cynthia’s breast through the serpent’s body wall.

“Ahhh,” Aldith sighed with perverse delight. “What a plump lump! The champion of Sinnoh, reduced to a digesting lump. How does it feel, Cynthia? To know you’ll be churned and melted here for a week? Constant agony, until you finally expire. Your muscles, your brain, your cherished beauty… all becoming part of my Seviper.

He’ll be so strong. Promotion to Admin is practically guaranteed. Ghetsis is already so pleased.”

Cynthia tried to scream, to protest, but she could only manage a weak, gurgling sob. The acids were seeping through the remnants of her clothes now. She felt a fierce, burning pain start to lick at her skin. My skin! AHH, IT BURNS!

“Your precious Garchomp will be repurposed for the cause,” Aldith continued, her voice a hateful melody. “And don’t worry about your friend, the lovely Diantha. We’ve had her under surveillance for months. Her schedule is so predictable. She’ll join you soon enough. Just like that meddling Pokémon Ranger, Solana. Do you know, nothing was left of her? Not bones, not hair. Just… fertilizer for the Unovan forest floor. Only her little radio survived. A trophy. Your hairpieces and that pretty necklace might survive, though. We can sell them. A macabre collectible.”

Diantha… no… Solana… The despair was a bottomless pit. She was not the first. She would not be the last.

“And the conquest rolls on,” Aldith said, her voice shifting as Cynthia heard the crackle of a radio. “Yes, Lord Ghetsis? Mission accomplished. The Sinnoh champion is… being processed. Yes. The Nimbasa Gym Leader, Elesa? My cell reports she’s been secured. She’ll be disposed of in the same manner. No, sir. No one will be spared. Thank you, Lord Ghetsis.”

Elesa too… Cynthia’s tears flowed freely, mixing with the saliva and mucous that coated her face inside the stifling chamber. She was a landmark, a watershed, and her failure would usher in a tide of horror. I’m the one who lost… I made this happen…

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Hours seemed to pass. The burning intensified, becoming a deep, all-encompassing torment. Her clothes were gone, reduced to soupy scraps. Only her reinforced lingerie and the sacred, ancient metal of her family necklace and hairpieces resisted—for now. They pressed painfully into her skin, heated by the acids. The stomach walls clenched and churned around her, kneading her form, coating every inch of her in the digestive slime.

She heard Aldith moving outside, building a small campfire. The grunt spoke to her Seviper, praising it, grooming it. “Such a good boy… you’ve earned this feast. She’s the grandest meal you’ve ever had, isn’t she? So tall, so nutritious. You can feel her vitality, can’t you?”

The Seviper purred, a deep, contented rumble that vibrated through Cynthia’s very bones.

“Please…” Cynthia whimpered, the word a barely audible bubble in the viscous fluid. “Let… me… out…”

Aldith heard it. She laughed. “Oh, the champion speaks! Does your belly ache, dearie? Must be those nasty hairpieces. Don’t you worry. A few good contractions should break them up. We don’t want any bones puncturing the cloaca on the way out, now do we? You’ll digest nice and smooth. And you should be grateful—at least you’ll be buried in your homeland, in a way. Your nutrients will feed the trees here on Route 210. Better than ending up as biofuel on the Frigate, or in a Garbodor’s waste pile.”

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The churning grew more vigorous. The acids bit deeper. Cynthia could feel her skin blistering, the first layers beginning to slough away into the soup around her. The pain was unimaginable, a crescendo of fiery dissolution.

Lucario! Garchomp! Spiritomb! Grandma! Steven! Professor Rowan! Dawn! Iris! Diantha! Leon! PLEASE, ANYONE?! GIRAT—ARCEUS!!! AHHHHHHHHH!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

Her silent scream echoed only in the prison of her mind as the stomach convulsed, squeezing her tightly, beginning the relentless work of breaking down the champion of Sinnoh into absorbable slurry. The last coherent thought was of Dawn’s smiling face, fading into the chemical dark.

Outside, Aldith warmed her hands by the fire, smiling at the massive, sated bulge in her Seviper’s middle. The serpent rested, content, its flanks occasionally rippling as its meal struggled feebly within. The clearing was silent, save for the crackle of the fire and the slow, digestive gurgles of a historic victory.