Reliving History-Omastar Tf

Cinnabar Island Laboratory. Day 139. Log 1.

‘Almost 140 days into our test study and still no progress. While we continue to be able to revive the fossilised life, the sensors have not found a ‘hold’ per say to attach themselves to in order to monitor their behaviour. It was hoped that this method would allow us to investigate fully the nature, behaviour, feeding, mating and other signs of life that these creatures exhibit. However, this has yet to be achieved. This will be our penultimate try; if the next two test subjects fail, we will have to abandon this method and go back to the drawing board. Our next subject appears to be an Omastar shell. We hope that maybe starting with an evolution will yield results.’

These were the notes made by scientist Dr Opal Geller, a tall slim figure of a scientist with raven black hair, thin glasses perched on a slight white nose, blue eyes and typical lab gear. She looked at the notes she had typed with deep dissatisfaction. The notes were far too informal, not something a scientist should type. Then again, both she and her colleague, Dr Michael Odin who was a deep chocolate black with dyed blonde hair and eager hazelnut eyes, were not mainstream scientists. They had only just graduated and were from humble backgrounds. Notes was something not covered in their curriculum.

Dr Geller was fascinated by science. As a child in her parent’s dirty back yard, she was always making notes about Pokémon who strayed in there or trying to catch them to examine their bodies more closely. Yet, she wasn’t one to deliberately harm a Pokémon, she didn’t want to be cruel or cause pain. She was just…curious. Opal had found a friend in high school called Michael, who had similar thoughts on science, but was more successful thanks to a high intelligence. Genius often caused madness or coldness, but not in Michael. He was tender-hearted. The two of them agreed to work on a common goal together. Friends and colleagues, no more. Opal was thankful to finally be working with Michael.

The man in question moved over to the Omastar fossil, picked it up and moved it to the scanner. Opal clicked various buttons and a whizzing noise was heard. A computerized voice sounded.

“Omastar fossil confirmed. Chances of revival: 100%.”

“Wow, it’s never been 100% before, that’s better for us!” replied Michael.

He looked over at Opal who nodded but without a smile, more of an expression of surprise. Usually, the chances were 90% at best. She should feel happy that revival was guaranteed. So why did she have a bad feeling about it?

Dr Odin removed the fossil and wordlessly placed it in the revival chamber. This was a platform with two lasers pointing at it. Often the electrical impulses would be enough to kick start the Pokémon into life. It was well known in the science industry that unlike bringing Pokémon back to life, which often resulted in crazy ghosts (an experiment never tried but observed in nature), calling back a fossil was similar to waking it from a deep sleep. Past life that was already dead were always given a 0% chance of coming back. These thoughts went through Dr Geller’s mind as Dr Odin left the chamber, and typed away at a few buttons, Dr Geller confirming it moments later. The process had begun.

ZAP! ZAPPPP!

The lasers buzzed into life, beams being continually fired at the fossil. For a long time this process repeated itself on a continuous stream. Why wasn’t anything happening?
Dr Geller opened these thoughts up. “Could the computer have been wrong? Maybe this one is already dead?”

Dr Odin shook his head. “It’s not like the computer to make a mistake, perhaps the beams need intensifying. I’ll just go and…”

“LOOK OUT!”

Opal dived at her friend, knocking him down as spikes came whistling through the glass, shattering them. After the initial shock, Dr Geller picked up a hard, rocky spike. It had to come from the Omastar. She stood up and gasped in surprise. The Pokémon wasn’t there. Why? She filtered through her memory. She remembered seeing the fossil shudder, then a burst of light as spikes fired at the window. If Dr Geller hadn’t flung her colleague down, he wouldn’t have been here anymore. That was good, but where was the fossil…?
She turned to see Dr Odin, looking at her gratefully. “Thanks, Opal. You saved my life back there. So let’s find out…”

He stopped again, dumbstruck. She looked at him, confused. He pointed to her back. She turned. The Omastar shell was on her back. In a panic she tugged at it, but it was stuck hard across the back of her lab coat. This caused her to panic more.

“What’s going on? Why can’t I get it off?” she screamed.

Michael thought, and came up with a solution. “Don’t worry, I’ll get a hammer or something.”

He was about to run off when Opal stopped him.

“I wouldn’t bother…”

He turned, with a questioning look.

“It’s sucking me in…” Opal said in a terrified voice.

It took him a while to realise what she meant. The shell, the shell seemed to pumping and Opal’s back was arched into a hunchback. Part of it had seemed to have disappeared. Into the shell. Why was there no crunching of bones or difficulties getting in? He didn’t know what to do.

“How can I stop this?” he asked in despair.

Opal shock her head, knowing what was happening and knowing she didn’t have much time left. “I don’t think you can,” she replied in a voice radiating with calm, “Whatever’s happened, the fossil is changing me into an Omastar. Record what’s happening, it might be useful later.”

“But I don’t want to…”

“Just do it! This could be my last request, I don’t know if I’ll have a brain after this! For all we know, other fossils could be revived who are looking for a host and we need to be aware of all the effects!”

“Alright, Alright, I’ll do it!”

Opal smiled. “And Michael?”

“Yeah?”

Her face was becoming more pained. “Thanks for being a good friend.”

Michael smiled too. “You too Opal.” He began his notes.

‘The subject’s back, a Dr Opal Geller, has now been totally subsumed by the shell. Part of her chest, tummy and pelvis can be seen. All of her legs, arms and head are still visible and intact. As are the majority of her clothes. The back of the lab coat appears to have been also consumed by the shell.

Crunching sounds are coming from inside the shell. It appears to be not only fitting in the subject’s body, but also modelling it to that of an Omastar. The pain on the subject’s face is…terrible. My guess is that her bones, muscles, nerves; every fibre of her body is being reduced and reconstructed into a shell ideal for protection. The front of her body is no longer visible. All that is left is her head, arms and legs. She has had to crouch on the floor. I hadn’t noticed, but she is smaller to her previous body. How long this has been happening, I can only guess.

Clicking sounds are being emitted. I cannot find the cause. Wait! It’s from her neck. Her neck is now sitting comfortably inside the shell and only a small gap can be seen. This is what made our investigation so difficult originally. Now, we have a new investigation. Her body is still making noises from within. The pain is clearly horrible to the subject (as it is to me).

The subject has suddenly put her arms in the air. I initially thought she wanted assistance and stepped towards her. Then, I heard a noise, the kind of noise one hears from the ripping of fabric. It appears the body has manoeuvred her arms into this position. Now her legs are moving, twisting outwards from her head in an awkward arrangement. Now the subject is sitting on the ground, her face less pained.

The muscle upon both arms and legs appears to be thinning. I decide to take off what remains of her clothing; only sleeves and trouser legs, so that both the subject and I can get a closer look. To my surprise, the skin is turning blue. The light shade that is an Omastar’s colouring. There are a few sounds as the bones become thinner. I can see the elbow and wrist being lost as I write this. The fingers too. Her hand is transforming to a round yet slimy end. The subject has tentacles. I gently touch the skin. It feels gooey yet smooth to the touch. This action causes the subject to look at me. Her nervous system is clearly in place alongside the new limbs. I look at the rest of them; all of them at the same time have produced the same results. The subject has fallen over, no longer able to hold herself up. Unwilling to cause her more injury (and to secure her dignity), I picked her up. The shell is heavier than I initially thought.

Her head is changing to the same blue tone as that of the tentacles. The subject screams in agony, allowing me to see her teeth breaking up and, amazingly, being swallowed. Her mouth remains open as her lips fade into this blue skin and new teeth emerge. Four in total, each a cream, pointed triangle. The inside of the subject’s mouth turns into a pitiless black: Omastars have no need for gums or tonsils. Her hair has fallen out and her ears I can no longer see. Her face is widening, flattening out. The nose is polished off. Her cheeks begin to look flabby. This is not for long. The skin and muscle widen to produce two triangular stripes: more tentacles. A similar action occurs with the top of her head, but not as large as the bottom tentacles. Watching the subject is like gazing into a monster from a horror movie; she is continually snapping in the Pokémon language. She stops screaming. Her eyes widen to take up about one fifth of her head. They become circular with a creamy background. Her pupils dilate and thin, becoming a single arch. The subject sighs. The transformation is over.’

Michael and the former Opal stare at one another for a long time. They each think the same things: amazement, horror, but most of all sadness. What are they going to do now? Michael is the first to recover.

“Well, that’s that. Are you…still in there?” he asked nervously.

Opal considered. Yes, she was. However, there were some new instincts. She had forgotten the ability to walk; this had been replaced by swimming. She had forgotten the taste of human food; now she would be eating any sea life offered to her. She had definitely forgotten about drinking. Nevertheless, she still had her memories and…a will to help the scientific world. Opal had an idea, but first nodded to her friend.

“Oh, thank goodness…Huh?”

Michael stared at her as she pointed with one of her tentacles. She pointed to the sensors, then to herself, then to the tank. It took a while for him to understand and, when he did, he was hesitant.

“Are you sure?” he questioned.

Opal considered again, but her mind was made up. All she had wanted to do was fulfil her curiosity, help her colleague Michael in a breakthrough and, most importantly, aide a scientific discovery in Pokémon. This wasn’t quite what she meant, but Opal felt gleeful at the prospect of learning about life as an Omastar. She nodded again.

Michael was back to his usual self once more, almost as if she hadn’t changed. It was for the best.

“Ok, let’s give this thing a try,” he said as he gently put Opal into the large tank behind them. It was large enough and had no one in it for the moment. It was fine tuned to an Omastar and Opal hummed in contentment. Michael grabbed one of the sensors as Opal swam to the top. Gently, she opened her mouth as large as possible. Her friend looked slightly unsure, but she maintained her position. Then, gradually, he slipped the sensor in. Opal clamped her teeth around the sensor until it was stuck at the top of her mouth. Her instincts told her that the top of her mouth was less sensitive and rarely used as food and water gushed in. It wouldn’t cause any damage to her. Then they both heard the bleeping.

Michael hurried over to the computer. He was jumping about in seconds.

“We’ve done it! We’ve done it! The sensors got everything! I can see your brain activity, your muscle control, which nerves are in use at this moment…this is incredible! We’re going to find ut so much, Opal, and it’s all thanks to you!”

She was glad to see him happy and called back in her new language a reply. Maybe life hadn’t gone as planned, but life as an Omastar was going to her greatest venture
.
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It took a month to collect enough data to take to their board meeting. The scientists were impressed at the results. However, both Dr Geller and Dr Odin had agreed not to mention what had really happened. One, because they probably wouldn’t believe it, and two, because not all scientists had good intentions like they had. Instead it was made up that Dr Geller had had to leave because of stress, and hadn’t been heard of since. So, it was time for their next investigation…into the transformation properties of fossils and the effect on humans.