The Type Chart
Chapter 7: Escape from Glitch City™ (© 2004, Mewtwo Smith. All rights reserved.)
Of course, I banged right into a wall. What else could you expect?
I groaned and rubbed my head, observing the concrete wall in front of me. I looked up. What an idiot I could be. I could fly. There was no need to go through the ever-changing maze.
I leapt up and despite not feeling my wings moving (which then again technically weren’t there), I hovered in mid-air above the walls. I saw a light purple shape near Morpheus’ orange Charizard figure, and swooped down to that exact place. I saw the city and walls change rapidly everywhere below me, but the two of them were still at the same place. I landed right next to Morpheus to make sure a wall wouldn’t just appear and separate us as soon as I landed. Unfortunately, there was no wall between Smith and us.
“So,” said Smith’s telepathic voice, which sounded a lot more unnerving than his human voice, “the One’s here to save the day.”
He laughed softly.
“But do you realize what this city is?”
I didn’t answer.
“It’s mine,” he said and cracked up in a laugh. “My own! My precious!”
“You’re in the wrong film here,” I just said. He stopped laughing and looked at me again.
“What does that change? Glitch city is copyright to me. I made it. I own it. And I can make whatever I want happen in it!”
His evil laugh echoed off the ever-changing walls as a four walls covered with graffiti surrounded me. The one in Smith’s direction had a window of glass so I could still see his purplish-white catlike face.
“You can’t beat me!”
I noticed that his eyes flashed red as he shouted that triumphantly.
“Morpheus!” I yelled, but got no answer.
“Mewhahahaha!” Smith laughed. “I’ve hypnotized him, and he’s going to tell me the secret code to get into the Chief Anti-Type Chart Headquarter database!”
“The code,” Morpheus murmured, clearly not self-aware, “the sentence is… wee old list in an eye-poking word…”
“Really?” Smith said eagerly. He completely forgot about me, brought a laptop out of nowhere and started typing on it, presumably trying to hack into that database.
“NO!” I screamed, but Smith just smirked at me and kept typing. After I heard a few error-announcing beeps from the laptop, Smith tossed it to the ground and hissed at Morpheus:
“You idiot! Those were the wrong words! Give me the correct ones!”
“Wire adds life to a pocket-size void,” Morpheus announced dramatically. Smith tried that too (after repairing the laptop by wrapping it in a purple aura for a second), but apparently it didn’t work either.
“Wheel lives in a poke-around Ford,” said Morpheus decisively, but Smith was getting tired of him, and being convinced that Morpheus was just making fun of him, he decided to take his anger out by taking out two guns; one of them was a small, bright pink water gun out of which he squirted at Morpheus’ tail flame, but the other one was a giant flamethrower he used to attempt to roast me. Luckily, he didn’t bother to remove the walls first, so I was unharmed.
Smith made the guns disappear by snapping his fingers, and then pointed at Morpheus. He closed his eyes in concentration as an eerie shade of blue surrounded his hand and then shot towards Morpheus’ head. It circled him for a few seconds; he got some sort of a seizure and then went still again.
“So,” Smith then said, again pointing his words to me, “is it fun being the One?”
“Fun?” I asked. “Um…”
“Seeing as you’re the One,” Smith interrupted, “we must battle. It is our destiny.”
“Destiny? This is starting to sound cliché,” I said.
“Oh, who gives a damn about that,” said Smith. “I’m going to battle you right now.”
The walls around me disappeared, and I found myself glowing deep purple and hovering into the air.
“So easy,” Smith muttered, mocking a yawn as he moved his fingers together and I couldn’t breathe.
“Let… me… down,” I choked.
“No,” said Smith and chuckled evilly, throwing his hand to the side. He apparently turned the walls off, as they stayed where they were as I was flung telepathically into a concrete wall that grew conveniently just where I was being sent flying to.
“Ow,” I muttered, sliding down the wall and landing on the ground, unable to move. I suddenly thought of something: I could just go out of the Type Chart…
I thought of golf balls and was starting to flicker when Smith noticed what I was doing and broke into my mind.
“No, sir, you’re not going anywhere,” Smith overwhelming echoing voice sounded deep inside my brain. He forced my legs to stand up, aching, and face him. I could see Morpheus’ unconscious figure behind him.
His shades were half off as he lay limp on his belly, but his eyes were open and he was ready to move.
He winked, and I turned back to Smith’s face.
“You will never win,” I snarled as Morpheus leapt up and spat a huge fireball at Smith’s tail. I grabbed the opportunity and broke out of the Type Chart, reforming in the C.A.T.C.H. Trinity sat in front of the computers with a pizza and a bottle of coke. She barely glanced at me before taking a big bite with lots of cheese. I had no idea how she got the pizza. But what I was more concerned about was that Morpheus hadn’t followed.
“Darn it!” I hissed and went back into the Pokéball, somehow reforming right in front of Smith, who was levitating Morpheus into the air. This broke his eye contact and Morpheus just managed to pull himself up before crashing.
“Do you think I can’t handle both of you?” Smith snapped. “But I think I’d rather want to meet you, Neo, alone. After all, this isn’t fair. You can’t use your scythes inside the Type Chart. Therefore… I made a special Pokéball for you to go inside timely at ten o’clock tonight and meet me in a real battle. A special hack by me that uses your real body, not the human one.”
He handed me a Pokéball that was light lavender at the bottom and deep purple on the top, just like his skin. Two eyes, exactly like his own, were engraved in it, and there was a white ‘S’ on the top of the sphere.
I looked him in the eyes; he smiled evilly and said “See you then.”
His shape flickered and he teleported away.