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Following Tiffany's very public violation, the tour continued for several hours, and Steven Stafford spent most of that time with one arm hooked around the Lopunny's svelte waist, his hands wandering over her bristling fur. Though disgusted by his actions, the other recruits remained silent, sacrificing Tiffany to the human's twisted affections so as not to draw his attention. They saw no hope in defying the Stafford boy; what little resistance remained after Dani's public humiliation and Hunter's prolonged torture drained away at the sight of Tiffany's forced deflowering. As a result, despite a constant stream of tears, Tiffany found no salvation from her fellow captives.

However, Steven's cruelty contained an element of chaos. The human moved from building to building, interspersing explanations of the facilities with indiscriminate electrical shocks to maintain the group's focus. And traveling outdoors, he guided his captives along the ranch's outer perimeter, demonstrating the property's invisible boundary by shoving unprepared Pokemorphs over the line. Varied shrieks of pain filled the open air as his victims scrambled to return to safety, their collars inflicting the penalty for their perceived escape attempt.

The tour concluded at the ranch's southern border, a large hangar looming over the recruits and deafening them with the roar of industrial air conditioners bolted to the rooftop. Standing at the building's massive entranceway, Martin Stafford awaited his son's arrival, having changed into more informal attire of blue jeans and a button-down plaid shirt.

Depositing the group in the older man's custody, Steven's hand trailed over the seam of Tiffany's ass before pressing his thumb against her tightened pucker. She yipped softly, her breasts bouncing as she flinched, and the boy's chuckling curled its way into her ear. Satisfied with the Lopunny's reaction, Steven withdrew his hand and offered his father a nod before jogging off towards the mansion.

“I trust you've been properly acclimated with your new home," Martin remarked, his gaze fixated briefly on his son's departure before shifting to examine the tearful Lopunny, “I know that Steven is quite thorough with his tours.

“As you've seen," he continued, stalking his way through the group and circling around Tiffany, his eyes slithering over her bare form, “this ranch features a variety of facilities to help you maintain a proper physicality for arena combat. However, this building is where you will be dedicating most of your training time. Practical application, if you will."

The human shook his head dismissively and applied a handkerchief to Tiffany's tear-streaked fur before returning to his position at the head of the group. He moved to a console secured into the hangar's outer wall and rapidly typed a pass code into the provided keyboard, unsealing a nearby door with a gaseous hiss. The grinding of iron gears echoed through the structure's shell, giving way to the squeal of metal as the portal slid open. Stepping to the side, Martin extended an arm, conducting his charges into the building, where a blast of frigid air whipped across bare flesh and fur alike.

A wide entryway diverged into two corridors, and Martin passed the shivering Pokemorphs as he strode down the left option. The narrow hallway led to a glass door that swished open as the leader approached, revealing a brightly lit room adorned on three walls with flashing lights and gleaming computer consoles. Suddenly, the high levels of air conditioning made sense, the cool air serving to balance out the radiant heat from hundreds of electronic components.

“These are my attack testing grounds," Martin explained, addressing the cluster of Pokemorphs leaning against various consoles, “they simulate battle scenarios you will face in the arena. This is my way to evaluate what each of you is capable of."

He approached a keyboard at the center of the room and typed in a series of commands, with dormant machines whirred to life in response. The vacant wall opposite the entrance receded into the floor, revealing a glass wall looking out upon an elongated dojo. Padded walls carried battle scars and burn marks, with a near-continuous streak of claw marks along the room's length. And embedded overhead, a series of blinking red lights denoted the presence of cameras and sensors, monitoring every moment of action in the room.

After several more keystrokes, the glass barrier ascended into the ceiling, unleashing the musty odor of the room beyond. Tentatively following Martin's orders twelve bodies shuffled into the dojo, most of them unwilling look away from their unpredictable master. Panic set in for several of the teens as the window began to close behind then quickly drawing limbs and appendages out of the screen's path. The barrier sealed shut, reflecting images of the recruits on the mirrored glass inside, and locking them all in at the human's mercy.

“Line up against the glass," Martin's voice crackled over an intercom in the corner of the room, “backs against the wall, arms at your sides."

With some hesitation, the group obeyed, pressing their bare rears against the tinted surface. Silence echoed from the intercom and several timid recruits peeked over their shoulders, only to find their own nervous expressions reflect back at them. A panel, in the ceiling at the center of the room, slid open and deposited a quivering pink mass before the group. Through a series of sickly squelches, the gelatinous creature rose from the floor, its form contorting to a more humanoid appearance. It still lacked any sort of distinguishing traits: a hairless, ovular skull with a rudimentary smiley face, a body devoid of muscle and contours, no tail, and limbs ending in stumps without fingers or toes. Though others followed suit, Vivian shrieked first, clutching at her boyfriend's paw when the creature took a struggling step towards the mirrored wall.

“What the fuck?"

“What the fuck is that thing?"

“Let me out of here!"

“Stay the fuck away from me, asshole!"

“Get away!"

“There is nothing to fear," Martin's voice returned overhead amidst the cacophony of frantic cries, “this is merely a training tool. I'm sure you've all at least heard of Dittos before. I've been told they're quite prevalent in your species' erotica. That isn't the purpose of this Ditto, of course. This Ditto will be serving as a sparring partner.

“Give it a moment," the human continued, narrating over the Ditto's infantile efforts at mobility, “we keep our Ditto supply cryogenically frozen so as not to require excess nourishment. The de-thawing process leaves them uncoordinated for a short while afterwards. Rest assured, once they're up and running, they serve as perfect training dummies.

“Miss King," the tinny voice barked, drawing attention to the diminutive Weavile, “step forward. Time to find out if that million credit price tag you've been priding yourself upon was my while. You should be feeling a slight tingling any second now."

Dani moved from the glass, cautious footsteps approaching the shifting Pokemon as she exposed the fearful bristling of her magenta tail to the other recruits. The amorphous blob reacted to the sudden motion, its body stretching forward as if to examine the nude Weavile, and adapting accordingly. It compacted itself until its beady eyes leveled with the young girl, and its limbs conformed to match her own, sprouting two sets of sharpened claws. The Ditto's dopey grin stood in stark contrast to exactly how flimsy its duplication appeared: height, weight and basic form matched Dani, but the doughy, featureless body looked like incomplete alien clone from a horror movie.

The Weavile felt a sudden twitch and rubbed at her temple, distracted from the unpleasant sight before her as a billowing cloud of mist breathed from her throat. Dropping her hand back to her side, she began slowly curling her fingers in a rhythmic pattern: index, middle, ring and pinky all tapping at her palm before beginning the process anew. To Dani's own surprise, and the shock of the other recruits, a flurry of snow began swirling around her paw.

Dani brought her paw to eye level, rotating her wrist as the miniature blizzard began collecting in her palm. Flakes landed in her fur and clumped together, a motionless horde building upon one another and growing stronger with each new addition. Enthralled by this new development, the Weavile curved her free paw over the growing mass, sharpening the initial snowball into an icy point until it had formed an ice shard about four inches in length. The flurry remained in orbit around the girl's hand, but ceased adding to her creation at that point, allowing her to giddily toss the shard from one hand to the other with a slight bounce in her step.

Dani's ears perked and she spun around, whipping the shard at the mirrored wall behind her. It shattered against the glass, showering the unprepared Pokemorphs in refuse while leaving only a pale spot to mark its impact. Dani's body swayed low to the ground, arms swinging from side to side irritatedly as the white remnants of failure started sliding down the barrier. Gritting her teeth, she formed a new shard from her personal blizzard; that too smashed into the window, leaving a mark and no visible damage. She tried again. And again. And again.

“I'd really rather not summon Arthur again," Martin calmly threatened over the intercom, “I deactivated the suppressors in your collar to watch you fight, not to watch you throw snowballs like a child."

“You…" Dani growled with a slight waver in her voice, speaking for the first time since the morning's demonstration, “you come in here if you want me to fight something."

“A tempting offer, but I'll have to pass, Miss King. You'll have to make do your current opponent."

The intercom clicked silent once again and Dani belted several more ice shards at the mirror, punctuating each one with a primal yowl. Behind her, the Ditto's body squished and squelched, warping from a semi-replication of the Weavile into a fully-actualized form. It gained several inches of height, and a soft layer of dark fur formed over its new, masculine musculature. Simplistic facial features morphed into eyeballs with complete pupils, irises and sclerae, a muzzle with a single extended fang smirking from the side of its mouth, and a pronounced nose. By this point, the Ditto had drawn Dani's attention once more, and she witnessed the transformation's final step as a powder-blue cock sprouted between the faux-Weavile's thighs, hanging limp against a pair of black-furred testicles.

“What the fuck is this?" Dani exclaimed, taking a step back from the newborn Weavile, “why's it got a dick? You want it to fuck me?"

“Get your mind out of the gutter you little skank," Martin chided from the other room, “I have no desire to breed a new generation of your progeny."

“Then why the fuck did it turn me into a guy?"

“While it is amusing that you think this specimen is anywhere near your meager body type, your vanity is misplaced. We have a database of vital statistics for countless arena combatants, and I've programmed this Ditto with the information of a fighter who matches your species and assumed skill level. The genitalia is merely part of the replication process.

“Now I'm going to start a ten minute timer. For the duration of that time, you are to strike this Ditto with every attack in your arsenal. The sensors will record your damage output and gauge your abilities."

“I'm not gonna beat up some fuckin'…whatever the fuck this thing is."

“If you're concerned, that's sweet, but unnecessary. Any damage you inflict can be buffed away. If you outright refuse to attack, however, then I'm sure Arthur would be more than willing to procure the hand he was denied this morning."

At the far end of the dojo, a set of glowing red numerals appeared on a digital clock, beeping with each tick and counting down: 9:59…9:58…9:57…9:56. Dani flinched, gnawing on her upper lip and anxiously flexing her claws within the growing swirls of snow around her paws. A pang of regret tugged the corner of her mouth into an uncomfortable frown as she stared into the dopey smile of her willing opponent, but she lashed out regardless, emitting a primal roar and channeling her hatred for the Staffords into a furious onslaught.

For the next ten minutes, Dani put on a clinic in back alley brawling. One arm slashed in every direction it could, tearing away chunks of Weavile façade, and the other arm formed new ice shards which Dani embedded in the Ditto's malleable pink flesh. As a buzzer sounded, Dani's momentum carried her forward in mid-strike, impaling one final icicle through the Ditto's abdomen.

“Very impressive, Miss King," Martin congratulated, chuckling to himself, “perhaps that balances out your earlier insubordination. Well done.

“Mister Vincent," the human commanded while the exhausted Weavile plodded back to the mirror, “you're up next. Time to earn your redemption."

With Dani having set the pace, Silas slithered forward confidently, his tail swaying comfortably behind him with each step. However, his swagger faltered as the Ditto extracted Dani's icicle from its sternum and began to morph into a new form altogether. The rigid, masculine body softened into a mosaic of smooth curves, the gaping chest wound sealed shut before ballooning into a pair of healthy mammaries, and the protruding male organ retreated to form a pair of bare, feminine lips. Fur receded into a layer of blackened scales, and the Ditto's already shorten hairstyle faded into baldness, with only a braided ponytail protruding from the back of its head.

“You think I'll go eassssier on a girl?" he hissed, balling his fists, “thissss issss going to be fun."

Silas lunged forward and matched Dani's performance, blow for blow. Claws, fangs and the sharpened edge of his tail assaulted the faux-Seviper, various cuts and scratches lingering in the Ditto's scales. Its pink innards on display and refusing to heal properly, Silas managed to sink his fangs into the squishy flesh of its neck, pumping a toxic dosage of venom into the poor creature. The façade began to falter as clumps of pink slime sloughed from her body. One arm clutched at the neck wound, fingers digging into the fresh holes as her face contorted into a mix of confusion and fear. Collapsing to the ground, bloodshot eyes shrank back into a pink, expressionless face as the creature liquefied on the dojo floor.

“What…" Silas hissed softly, hastily pulling his foot from the puddle of lifeless goo, “Arcccceussss f-fuck."

“I'll admit I wasn't expecting that," Martin said regretfully, “I don't often witness the effects of poison the Dittos. Still, I suppose earning a kill on your first day of training is commendable. Rejoin the others."

Silas trudged back to the glass wall and slumped against it, removing his sunglasses and rubbing intensely at the bridge of his nose. Despite the setback, the training continued: a grate opened in the center of the room, dribbling the Ditto's remnants out of sight as a de-thawing replacement dropped into the room. Having given opportunities to both Dani and Silas, he opted to complete their trifecta, sending Lavender fight opposite an effeminate Espeon clone.

The Espeon writhed on the floor at the onset, clutching the sides of her head as Martin freed her powers and allowing the suppressed psychic energy to flood back through her for the first time in weeks. Stumbling to her feet, she clenched her eyes shut, the brightness of the dojo's overhead lights intensifying the rush of pain flowing through her skull. She swayed uneasily, leaning against the side wall for support, but finally managed to regain her footing after frittering five whole minutes from the ticking clock. Turning to face the flouncing Ditto, her eyes glowed violet and she began to make up for lost time.

Though she lacked the visceral brutality of her compatriots, Lavender's psychic abilities provided the same intensity as that of tooth and claw. Streams of multi-colored light beamed from her forehead jewel, staggering the Ditto as its façade deformed with each hit. She utilized her telekinesis after every few attacks, flinging the Ditto across the room and smearing it from wall to wall. By the time Lavender had finished, her opponent wobbled and struggled to maintain its disguise in spite of the ever-present smile plastered across its face.

As quickly as her powers had returned, the wash of psychic energy flowing through Lavender fell silent, suppressed once no longer necessary for demonstration. The Espeon found herself trembling at the loss, fingertips massaging at her temples and trying to coax her powers back to life as unexpected tears welled in her violet eyes. Her initial unconsciousness back at the kennels masked the theft of her abilities, but this time she felt the change as it occurred, effectively lobotomized against her will.

“You wasted half of that fight on a headache, Miss Evans. We'll need to work on that. Miss Evans Two, go."

A mixture of rage and sadness swelled within the Espeon, the flippant dismissal of her pain and subsequent emptiness only serving to compound those feelings. She refused to cry though; she refused to give Martin Stafford that satisfaction. Passing Nicole as they traded places at center stage, Lavender swiped a wrist across her forehead, feigning sweat to wipe away the build-up of tears clinging to her eyelashes. With a deep breath, she leaned back beside Dani, only allowing faint sniffles to betray her true emotions as she instead focused on her twin's test.

Unfortunately for Nicole, it rapidly became clear just how much her academic achievements had afforded a considerable boost to her battle rating at NJBA. Sluggish movements and pudgy flesh hindered her physical attacks, the dark-furred Ditto nimbly dodging most of her wild kicks and punches while seeming unphased by what few hits actually landed. And unlike her sister, a lack of long-range capabilities resulted in ten minutes of ineffectual and sloppy combat that ended with the feeble Pokemorph doubled over and wheezing.

“Utterly pathetic," Martin's voice snapped over the intercom, “your sister did more in five minutes than you managed in ten. No rations for you tonight; maybe losing that excess fat will improve your performance. Now get your ass back to the wall!"

Coughing and sputtering as she hobbled from her undamaged opponent, Nicole returned to Lavender's side. Lacking her twin's conviction, Nicole's most attractive qualities faded in a torrent of snot and spittle dripping from the girl's frantic muzzle as she sobbed uncontrollably between phlegm-filled coughs. At her sides, Lavender and Xiu Bai alternated comforting strokes of her matted, purple hair, trying to assuage the distraught Pokemorph lest she suffer beyond just their master's stern reproach.

Distracting from Nicole, Hunter stepped forward, casting a pitying glance over his shoulder before cracking his knuckles and challenging the dojo. The Ditto transformed into an Amazonian Arcanine girl to meet her newest opponent, and Martin obliged the male's request, resetting the timer for ten minutes. While the Umbreon cried herself out, Hunter eagerly engaged his formerly-suppressed inner fire and plowed straight through the hapless Ditto. His massive, muscular frame slammed the creature's malleable form to the ground its outer shell and flattening it into the wood. Meaty fists and powerful jaws inflicted a constant stream of punishment, and a guttural roar bellowed across the room, shaking the mirror and catching a sob in Nicole's throat to silence the Umbreon's misery.

One last flare blitz toppled the Ditto as time ran out and Hunter towered over his vanquished foe like a conquering hero, his firm chest rising and falling in time with the pleased wag of his tail. He paraded triumphantly back to the rest of the group, hooking one paw around Vivian's waist and pinning her between his firm, muscular chest and the wall. He forced his muzzle upon hers, delving his tongue down her throat as she melted in his arms, murring contentedly as his strong heartbeat drummed at her plush chest.

A quick burst of electricity broke the kiss, and Hunter glared through the glass, flexing a bicep and daring the human to further punish his affections. With no response, the Arcanine simply smirked and planted a strong paw into the Ninetales' supple rear as he pushed her out to face the arena.

Vivian ignored the timer as the battle began, giddily enjoying the release of energy flowing through her body. Flames belched free from her gullet, enveloping the Ditto's vulpine form in a sea of auburn fire, and she danced gracefully around the room, attacking from all angles. Twirling behind her target, she switched things up, unleashing waves of colorful energy from her paws, before returning to her fiery assault. By the time timer buzzed, she'd successfully scorched half the dojo and left her foe's flesh charred and smoking.

Hacking up a puff of smoke as the suppression kicked in once more, Vivian reacted far less harshly than Lavender had. Adrenaline still flowing from battle, she strode back to her man and passionately locked lips, sharing the barbequed flavor of her juicy maw. She began to grind her soft fur against the Arcanine's throbbing erection, only to leap back in discomfort as a harsh shock coursed through her collar. Growling, she stuck a middle finger against the glass and reached down, coaxed a bark from Hunter as she ran her fingertips along the length of his aching member.

Rickey took to the field in Vivian's wake and mimicked Dani's savage fighting style. Flashes of sharpened claws dug into the pink gel of his opponent's body, the Zangoose's extra weight powering the momentum of his various strikes and puncturing holes straight through the Ditto's body. He glanced up locking eyes and nodding at Silas across the room, symbolically slashing his foe and spattering a trail of goo across the dojo floor. The Seviper glared right back, snapping his jaws at the Zangoose and hissing as he mimed the fatal bite from earlier. Taunting his rival, Silas tapped the spot on his neck where a pair of fang marks lingered on the Zangoose, and Rickey responded by slashing three claws across the Ditto's chest to match Silas' own scars.

Returning to a set of fist bumps from Hunter and Travis, Rickey stepped aside and allowed the Infernape to pass. His flexible body swayed through a series of fighting stances, kicking high and punching low, then flipping through the air and reversing the sequence. Though his fists lit up with flames and electrical discharge, he meandered through the test with little sense of urgency. The Ditto dodged his punches more often than not, the simian exerting no more energy than necessary and hardly breaking a sweat by the end of the fight. Martin rebuked the boy of course, withholding food as he'd done with Nicole, and the Infernape responded in kind. Travis traversed the floor in a handstand, approaching the mirror and wiggling his bare ass before splitting his thighs and pressing his pucker against the glass at eye level with the human beyond.

Frustrated by the display of insubordination, Martin refused the next volunteer, making his own selection instead. A pair of feminine hips contrasted a flat chest and healthy pink cock as a fine layer of brown fur grew over the newly-morphed Lopunny male. Tiffany hiccupped, pressed against the mirror and unwilling to step forward as the glowing red digits began counting down her time. A minute passed when behind her head, the sharp pounding of a fist against the barrier jolted her away, forcing the frightened girl towards the jaunty, bouncing Ditto.

Mere hours having passed since her rape, and the young Lopunny showed no signs of recovery from the ordeal. Petit fists afforded glancing blows to the Ditto at best, though mostly the creature sidestepped and ducked Tiffany's attacks. Long, powerful legs rooted firmly to the ground, clamped together and halving her attack capabilities to avoid aggravating the painful ache of her lost virginity. She shambled around, clumsily attempting to mount an offensive whenever the facsimile male's slippery body stayed still.

Even before her time ran out, Martin barked a derisive pronunciation of failure, but the rabbit shed no tears as Nicole had done. She silently trudged back to the others, shying away from the intended comforting touch of several male hands, and curled up in the fetal position beneath a blanket of Vivian's tails.

“Not you," Martin snapped at Sandra as the Blaziken stepped forward with a look of concern on her face for the hidden Lopunny, “not yet. Her first. The Mienshao. Go."

Xiu Bai blinked at the order and gingerly drifted from the wall, timidly crossing one arm over her chest as she felt the burning gaze of her fellow recruits following her every move. Her free paw nervously clutched at strands of her long, black hair as she watched the Lopunny male transform into her own species, the body type altering very little in the process. The beeping started and the Mienshao inhaled deeply, secured her glasses on the bridge of her nose, and released her breasts before lunging forward with both arms outstretched. Pointed fists jabbed at the spongy flesh of her opponent, and she twirled around his dexterous form, applying a series of kicks up and down the back of his body. Dainty feet kicked off the walls, spearing her svelte body through the air to power through the male with ruthless efficiency.

She swept his legs out from under him and shuddered as the Ditto, rather than climbing back to his feet, simply adjusted his mass, reforming his body in a standing position before her. And so the fight began anew, and for ten minutes, Xiu Bai flowed through the dojo, her elegant form striking with constant precision from all directions. And the moment the clock signaled her completion, the Mienshao's personality reverted back from warrior monk to shy teenager as though a switch had flipped within her brain. Xiu Bai ignored Martin's glowing praise and quickly shuffled back to Nicole's side with arms tightly concealing her femininity.

Again, Sandra moved forward and again, she found herself rebuffed, passed over instead for the quiet Greninja tucked into the mirror's far corner. Hiroki gulped, tugging at his tongue as the Ditto transformed once more to match its latest opponent. Pale Mienshao fur receded entirely to expose slippery amphibian skin and the flaccid mammalian member shrank away into a set of blue labia. Hiroki's face flushed violet as he found himself strangely aroused by the sight, and he clenched his eyes shut in an effort to distract his mind from the nude female presented before him.

Only when the timer began did Hiroki refocus on his target. In contrast to his toned, athletic body, he avoided physical attacks, instead opting to remain at a distance and fire off projectiles. Unrestrained, a surplus of water blasted from within his gut and sprayed his opponent across the room, leaving a divot in the wall when she collapsed to the floor. Colorful energy flowed from his fingertips and lashed out at the Ditto, jostled the clone's nubile body and supple mammaries, much to the Greninja's growing shame.

A dull throb rose from the male's semi-erect member as his eyes wandered over the glistening female's nude body, the image invading his mind and taunting his libido. However, with each pump of cold blood to his engorging manhood, adrenaline surged through Hiroki and his attacks grew fiercer and faster. Another hydro pump erupted from his chest, and excess water coalesced in his palms, forming shurikens that tore into the Ditto's body, embedding themselves deep within the pink ooze. When his time ran out, he had soaked the whole dojo, including a few of his less-than-nimble compatriots, and he doubled over in exhaustion, having expended every last ounce of energy he had to offer on the fight.

Half-heartedly accepting Martin's metallic praise, Hiroki's gaze drifted once more over the naked Greninja girl before him. Her oblivious smile almost seemed to invite him forward, and pre-cum dribbling down his eager erection. He extended a trembling hand towards the girl, and a look of naïve confusion appeared on her face as she cocked her head to the side. A reminder of the girl's true species clicked in his mind and Hiroki withdrew his hand, dejectedly turning away and retreating to the corner.

“Now, Miss Tucker," Martin commanded as Hiroki returned to the mirror and faced away from the others, “I've saved the best for last. Let us see what two million credits is truly worth."

Hiroki's Greninja lover sprouted feathers, a thick layer of red and yellow fluff spreading across her body. Breasts shrank to form a fit, muscular chest, feminine curves hardened into stiff muscles and squared shoulders, and a thick, black cock flopped free over a pair of bulging testicles. Long, sandy-blonde hair flowed from the Blaziken's head, and green eyes glimmered as flat mouth extended into a stiff beak, somehow managing that same Ditto smile. Rickey watched this transformation in shock as features grew more and more familiar with each passing second, and soon Silas caught the resemblance as well.

“That's…" Sandra stammered, her twang faltering as she tripped forward to better examine the duplication, “that's my…that's…DJ…

“That's my fuckin' brother!" Sandra squawked, rushing forward and grabbing the clone by his squishy arms, “why does it look like DJ!"

“Would you prefer Harley, Miss Tucker?" the human's voice lilted from the other room, “I have his image as well."

“You…why do you have anything about my brothers!"

“As I said earlier, I have the biometric data from hundreds…nay, thousands of arena combatants. Duke Tucker Jr. and Harley Tucker are two of the top Pokemorphs in the arena league. That family name is the entire reason why I would spend two million credits on a rookie in the first place."

“No. No! That's a damn lie! My brothers ain't…they ain't in this like I am! I'd know! I would know if somethin' happened to them! To my family!"

“Didn't you receive their letters, Miss Tucker? Duke Junior has enlisted in the Neo Hoenn armed forces…Harley has received a lucrative job offer in Goldenrod City. What do you think was picked for you, Miss Tucker? College, perhaps?"

“That's not…no that can't…"

“I assure you, Miss Tucker, it most certainly can. Families would notice their children disappearing, so we feed them a lie. We appeal to their pride so they won't ask questions. They accept that lie."

“DJ…Harley…" Sandra whispered to herself, similarly to the horrified reactions exploding around her, “they can't really be…I'm the only one that has to…I have to be…"

“Miss Tucker, I'm sure this is a lot to take in at the moment, but I must insist that we move forward."

“DJ…"

“Miss Tucker!" Martin's calm voice shouted over the intercom as the Blaziken screeched at the sudden shock to her neck, “I hold you in high regard based on your lineage, but you would do well not to lower that opinion. Now fight!"

Several short jolts urged Sandra forward, her claws clacking across the floor with trepidation as she approached the replica of her older brother. Extending two fingers, she lightly stroked the Ditto's putty-like beak, examining the accuracy of his appearance while noting the childlike curiosity of his tilted head. DJ never smiled, yet this creature could do nothing else, happily accepting his constantly pummeling with nary a peep. DJ would never allow himself to become some pawn…some punching bag. With one final caress to her brother's cheek, Sandra addressed the masquerading Ditto directly.

“You ain't my brother," she spoke slowly, shaking her head, “You're not DJ."

Flames engulfed her fist, and in one swift motion she rocketed a punch into the copy's jaw, snapping the skull from his body and spattering the pink sludge of the faded transformation across the wall. In its place, the creature grew a new head, equal in every way to its predecessor: same green eyes, same blonde hair, and the same smiling beak. Sandra seethed at her brother's visage and screeched, fire swirling around her ankles and flowing through the air as a flurry of kicks pounded dents into the Ditto's façade. Her claws slashed an arm off at the shoulder and it grew back. She snapped a leg out of its socket and it grew back. Globs of pink slime bubbled around the dojo as Sandra systematically dismantled the Ditto, reaffirming her statement louder each time it reformed.

“You're not DJ!"

Long after the timer sounded off, Sandra's fists pulverized the hapless Ditto, twisting and mangling its duplicated shape every time it tried to follow the orders of its programming. It took the combined mass of Hunter, Rickey, and Travis to pry the enraged Blaziken away, and even then, her limbs flailed wildly, burning fur and flesh alike. Breaking free of their grip, she flung herself at the mirror, smashing knuckles against the glass and streaking the barrier with spindly cracks. As she reared back for a second strike, her body froze, eyeballs darting frantically in their sockets as she crashed backwards, slamming into the floor, completely immobilized. Machinery began to whirr and the crinkling glass retreated to safety in the ceiling, revealing the bright smile of Martin Stafford glowing over his anxious purchases.

“That, my pets," the human cooed, kneeling over the paralyzed Blaziken and stroking her hair, “is two million credits very well spent. Attack testing complete."

All characters © Inviso

Artwork from Avencri and Upstairstudios