Turo deserved a punch in the face, a twist of the arm, whatever. Alas, Arven could not find it in him to hurt him.

        He didn’t know what it was. He could bat his father on the shoulder but not anything else. Was it because he knew that, unlike his mother, his father was alive? Or because he knew violence wasn’t the solution to everything? Scarlet proved that by tinkering with Turo’s emotions in the main lab. Surely the cyborg transformation could result in a negotiation. If not, then Arven was a dead teenager.

        What would Turo do—dissect him like a Nymble for an eighth grader and put robot parts in him? How did he make Sada pregnant? Arven read somewhere that someone could take the reproductive organs of a dead woman and create babies from them. If Turo did that, if what he did to Arven was reminiscent of Sada, then that was cause for an emotional outrage.

        “What are you going to do to me?” he finally asked Turo. “Is it how you made an AI pregnant?” It was negotiation time. “You know, you don’t have to do this.” Dang it! That was too soft. It was just like that fairytale, Goldilocks and the Three Ursaring.

        Turo tugged Arven’s sore wrist (he was sure he sprained it). “You talk too much.”

        “What are you going to do about it?” Arven probably shouldn’t have said that. Then again, he had never dealt with a villain before. His insides froze, and his body shivered under a newfound chill with Turo’s two-word answer:

        “You’ll see.”

        He took Arven to a dome-shaped room. It had a computer the size of one of its walls, and at first glance, it looked like something someone would find in an observatory. Twinkling stars decorated the whole dome. It was so realistic that Arven felt each sun’s heat.

        He tripped over clusters of cables and scattered Tera crystals. Falling forward, he nearly hit a Terastallized keyboard in the center of the room. Turo didn’t bother to save him, so Arven ended up on his hands and knees at the keyboard’s legs, eye-length with two pockets colored scarlet and violet. What was this—his key to saving him, Sada, and his little sister or the guillotine? Arven knew it was probably both, but it depended on him. He could still negotiate with his psycho dad.

        Turo snatched Arven’s arm and jerked him to his feet in time for Celebi and Meowscarada to rejoin them, still cursed, confused, and conflicted. His Temporal Freeze remote vibrated in his pocket, and he took it out, checking it. “Ah, what do you know? It looks like you’re going to have an audience for your experiment, my wonderful son.”

        “What are you—?”

        Turo didn’t let Arven finish. He gestured at Meowscarada and Celebi. “We’re going to make sure he doesn’t escape. Right, partners? His friends and mom will have front-row seats to this blockbuster.”

        “Seriously, Dad, you don’t have to do this.” That was still too soft. Arven would have to try harder than that negotiating. It was too obvious that he didn’t know how to deal with a psychopath. Turo’s meaty fists would knock him out in two seconds flat.

        “Mabosstiff, I need you,” Arven quietly whispered. As if on cue, he saw Mabosstiff appear at the room’s entrance out of the corner of his eye. He almost called out to him but decided he didn’t want to put him in danger. His partner could not afford another life-threatening injury. Therefore, Arven pretended he wasn’t there and locked onto Turo’s face. It was like he was a target at a shooting range.

        Arven was small compared to Turo, but he did have a secret weapon he seemed to lack: willpower and undeniable love for his mom and little sister. If Scarlet could tinker with Turo’s emotions, perhaps Arven could, too. What had he learned about grief during this whole adventure? That’s all it was, undeniable love, and it was the greatest weapon anyone could have.

        Arven inhaled and relaxed his body. He had not yet reached his adult height (he still had an inch or two left), but he straightened his posture and met Turo’s grieving eyes. “Dad, I know you’re sad. I am, too, but there are better ways to handle complicated grief.”

        “You talk too much!” Turo sprayed Arven with a shower of warm saliva. “The only way for me to forget her is to destroy any evidence. Do you think I want to do this? No, but I have to. I had to impregnate that AI so I could have a new kid. You don’t understand, Arven. You look too much like her. I need a kid who doesn’t.” He glanced at Meowscarada. “Meowscarada, shut him up. Use Sleep Powder.”

        “Wait, what?” Arven said nothing more because Meowscarada hopped up and sprinkled him with a flurry of green sparkles. They looked like fairy dust. Stumbling, he dropped onto the keyboard. However, Arven forced himself to stay awake. “Dad, please don’t do this. Mom wouldn’t want you.”

         “I loved her!” Turo blurted. “And I just wanted to bring her flowers!”

        “Dad...” Arven couldn’t do it anymore. His therapy dog would have to become Turo’s. His legs gave way, and he hit the ground with a plop.

        “Arf! Arf, arf!” Mabosstiff finally barked, startling Turo. He zoomed by him, and his heavy body knocked him off his feet. Reaching Arven, Mabosstiff pawed his shoulder and nudged his head. “Arf, arf!” He launched for Turo, still on the ground, but Meowscarada and Celebi protected him.

        “Dumb dog,” Turo growled to himself before snickering. He got up and placed his hand in his pocket again, starting to fumble around. “It looks like I’m going to have another Hologram Pokémon to add to my collection.” He released another Hologram Pokéball, and in his free hand, he rested his thumb on one of his remote buttons. The label under it read AI Army.

        Mabosstiff attempted to jump toward the remote, but Celebi cried, “Bi!” and put up a force field around it and Turo. Now that it was a Hologram Pokémon, the translucent field’s color was light blue instead of green.         

        Regardless of the shield, Mabosstiff kept trying to get to Turo—to the point he said, “All right, you beast. You leave me no choice.” That was all he said, followed by a wham as he pressed the AI Army button.

        Arven wasn’t asleep yet, but he was getting there. He felt weaker by the second, and his aching heart threatened to drown him in grief. “Dad... please.” A cough followed his feeble voice, and he shut his eyes.

        This was it. The guillotine. It festered, waiting for its cyborg to heal its wound. Only two things were missing: the Scarlet and Violet Books.