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Consciousness comes with a rush of bright lights and cold air.
"Ultra Beast Zero is awake, ma'am."
There are cool hands against their skin. A blanket. They are being wrapped in a blanket. Someone is stroking their hair. Speaking words.
"My little girl," she whispers. "My little girl. You will be my little girl, made in my image. Please. Call me Mom."
The little girl looks up, and reach for a strand of blonde hair.
Mom nods, smiles, and reaches for the little girl's own blonde hair. "See?" she says, "We're the same. The same. I'm going to call you Calla."
Calla nods.
Calla is not human. Calla has never been human.
Calla's limbs shift like water.
Mom gathers Calla up in her arms and lays them down on a bed. "You'll learn control," she tells Calla softly, brushing blonde hair back. "You'll learn to keep this form in time. You'll learn to be Calla, not..." She clicks her tongue, disapproving. "Not just Ultra Beast Zero. I promise. I promise."
Calla. Not Ultra Beast Zero.
There is another Zero at home.
Calla likes Type: Null. Type: Null is like them. By now, Calla knows what the word 'experiment' means, what the word 'synthetic' means. Calla isn't completely synthetic, but they are an experiment, and Type: Null becomes their best friend.
Calla rests their cheek against Type: Null's flank and wonders what sky looks like.
Mom is very important. Calla hears people call Mom President Lusamine. When she asks them things, they do them for her.
Mom likes Calla best, though. Mom says Calla is her proudest achievement.
Faba and Wicke are nice. But Calla likes Mom the best too. Faba sometimes calls Calla an 'it' and Wicke pinches Calla's cheeks too much.
Calla still wants to go outside, though.
Mom gives Calla books. They're picture books with bright colours and Calla likes looking at them. When Mom reads to Calla, she points to the scribbles on the page and slowly the scribbles turn into words.
Calla likes the ones that show Alola the best. That's where Calla is, although they've never been outside.
One day, Mom says. One day.
Calla reads a lot. Calla decides they really like flowers. Mom points out calla lilies and says that's what Calla was named after. Calla reads about men and women, boys and girls, and wonders what happens with people who aren't really either, who aren't humans and aren't Pokemon, either. Calla really likes Pokemon. Ultra Beasts aren't really Pokemon. Type: Null sort of is. But Calla likes them nonetheless.
Mom lets Calla see the other Pokemon at home. She says that some of them are looked after because people hurt them, and some of them are for very important research purposes. Calla and Type: Null are for very important research purposes, she says, and that means no one will ever hurt them.
They're going to be important.
Calla is one year old.
Mom takes Calla and Type: Null outside for the first time.
Real sunsets are a lot prettier than ones in books.
It's hard for Calla to hold their form. Sometimes they shake from the strain of not slipping away into water, becoming formless and nothing.
Calla doesn't want to be nothing. Calla doesn't want to be Ultra Beast Zero. Calla is someone. Type: Null is someone.
Calla has to fight hard to stay Calla, even as they shake and tremble, because being nothing means not existing.
And Calla wants to exist. Calla has a right to exist. Calla is bits and pieces, not flowers, not human or Pokemon, not a girl or a boy, but they are Calla. Calla and Type: Null are real, they're alive, and they're going to fight for existence.
Sometimes Calla is allowed to see the experiment Pokemon. Mom says that it's important for Calla's growth and development, and while Calla enjoys playing with them, they don't like that, sometimes, the Pokemon don't seem to be very happy.
They talk about their pain. Mom doesn't seem to notice, but Calla and Type: Null do, and they ask Mom about it later.
Mom looks surprised. "They're just experiments," she says reassuringly, "Just minor ones, nothing like you. You're special. You're my little girl. My Calla."
Calla isn't sure that's very reassuring.
Calla and Type: Null sneak into the experiment room when Mom isn't looking.
The Pokemon there aren't happy at all. They tell Calla all the things that Mom and Faba and Wicke do.
There are Pokemon Outside, they say, but the ones Outside get treated differently to the ones Inside. The ones Outside are happy, but sometimes they bring one from Outside into the experiment room and they never, ever go out again.
Calla frowns.
Calla starts to ask Mom questions. Calla asks about how the experiment Pokemon are treated and Mom purses her lips and says that it's not very important, Calla needs to keep practicing, Calla needs to learn to hold their shape better.
If Calla practices really hard, maybe they can go outside again for their second birthday.
Calla and Type: Null start sneaking outside anyway.
They're hurting them they're hurting them they're hurting the Pokemon they're hurting Type: Null they're hurting Calla and it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it -
It's night and Calla climbs on Type: Null's back and they run and they run and they run and they run -
Calla and Type: Null huddle together in a street and it's noisy and cold and bright and they want to go home but home is doing terrible things, they can't, they can't, they can't -
"Hey. What kind of Pokemon is that?"
Calla is being spoken to by a man with fluffy white hair like a Furfrou and with an Ariados. Calla likes Ariados, and looks at it for a long time before looking up at the man and saying, "Type: Null."
The man laughs. "Weird-ass name. What's yours, li'l girl?"
"Not a little girl."
"Sorry." He holds his hands up, smiles. "I'm Guzma. So what's your name, kiddo?"
'Kiddo' is better than 'little girl'. Mom called Calla her little girl and it's never really been right.
Nothing about this is right. Nothing.
Calla. Calla lilies. Lilies. Sword lilies. Gladiolus. Still a flower, but a sharp one. One that will fight. "Gladion."
"Gladion, huh?" Guzma offers Gladion a hand. "Man, you're filthy. C'mon, we can get you fed and cleaned up."
Gladion follows Guzma.
Guzma gives Gladion food and clean clothes. Gladion takes a pair of scissors and cuts their long hair short. Long blond strands slip to the floor. Gladion ties it back, but they cut some too short and the bangs fall over their eye.
Gladion decides they like it, and looks up at Guzma.
"Can I stay with you?"
"Yeah. Yeah, kiddo. You can stay with us."
"And Type: Null?"
"Yeah, Nully too."
Gladion smiles, and pets Nully.
Consciousness comes with a rush of bright lights and cold air.
"Ultra Beast One is awake, ma'am."
There are cool hands against their skin. A blanket. They are being wrapped in a blanket. Someone is stroking their hair. Speaking words.
"My little girl," she whispers. "My little girl. You will be my little girl, made in my image. Please. Call me Mom."
The little girl looks up, and reach for a strand of blonde hair.
Mom nods, smiles, and reaches for the little girl's own blonde hair. "See?" she says, "We're the same. The same. I'm going to call you Lillie."
Lillie nods.