Quoted By:
>[2:39 AM. {REDACTED}. Cerulean Cape, 52 Years Ago.]
>He looked at her and she at him, felt the cool of a sweat bead trail down his forehead. He gripped the pokeball in his hand, and nodded. The fire ate at the twisted metal of the compound, and through the myriad craters in the ceiling that dripped liquid steel down below he could see the clouds darken. It was now or never. The young woman stirred beside him.
>"Grayson--" she said, and was cut off..
>She would make it out of here, that much was certain. It was his survival that he was worried about, what he had always been worried about.
>"You'll make it," he promised, then corrected himself. "We'll both make it."