Impact. Knees already stained red, as if they were some sort of omen, collided with grass, mud and debris. No objections from the exhausted upper torso were to be heard as it followed suit. Hands were not lifted to protect the heart and brain and a sharp piece of metal infiltrated the retina. No cry of pain; no desperate pulling or clawing to save his eyesight; Samwise lay sloping upwards, his head supported by the metal. Every passing second, it moved a little bit, further away from his gate to colours and closer to the command unit. It was degrading and humiliating, this happy coincidence, but could work out, this could be the method of escape. Through the skull and into the pink organ as blood would seep in via the entry wound. And the pain, oh, the pain. Ever constant, seemingly never ending. The secrets held forever forgotten; splicing and merging a thing of prehistoric, unrecorded, unrecoverable past. Completely worth it for the sake of preservation; of humanity; of Pokemon; of the planet - perhaps even the entire universe itself.
Closer now, the metal scraped against his skull. Samwise realised sloping would not be enough, he would have to apply force. He lifted his hands and positioned his knees, braced himself but clenching his teeth together and dived forward. Pain like nothing he had ever experienced. Yelping, sliding backwards and then repeating. The exercise continued for some minutes. He could feel his bone being eroded. Against the odds, against the pain threshold - he could do this. The greatest feat of his entire life would be leaving it behind. What a way to go. Only a few more minutes now, surely. What was it his father once relayed to him, among all of those other misguided articles of advice and goodwill? 'Pain is temporary, my son, glory is forever.' He shook his head thinking of it, he was not in this for glory. He was in this because the world needed him to be. Samwise McNulty was the last middle man of the greater good.
That... that and he knew that if he were caught, the consequences would be much, much worse than what he was going through right now.
He didn't know how much longer he could keep going with this manic suicidal drive. Not much longer, surely. Surely he'd be able to pull this off.
Then he heard them; the unmistakable synchronised marching; the heavy, rapturous breathing. He could hear excited shouts but was unable to make out what they were saying. Not that he needed to know. He was being kidnapped. A journey would follow; he'd be smuggled out of the ruins of Cinnibar Island and taken to Saffron City, where they'd demand... everything he had. And then? He shuddered to think of the torturous activities the Order engaged in... and the sacrifices.
The Cinnibar meadows, bright, beautiful and green once upon a time, now swallowed him up. He was finished.