“Master, if I may…just put this in my own words…”
Cilan’s throat felt as if there was mire stuck in it, preventing his words from reaching his master’s ears. He felt the taste of sewage in his mouth, and his stomach was churning as if he has swallowed it.
Cress and Chili looked at each other nervously, both with an expression that clearly stated, This isn’t good.
Ghetsis nodded at the Connoisseur. “Be my guest…Cilan.”
The gasps of horror that erupted from his friend’s broke Cilan’s heart, but he knew that the secrets and underhanded interactions he had with Team Plasma had to stop. Deep down, he was sick of it.
The Connoisseur stood up, and allowed his hands to move up to the wig on his head, and prepared himself to remove it.
Ash swallowed hard, and took a few more steps backward. Pansage ran up to his Trainer, and gave him a look of regret and sadness. Iris and Burgundy looked at each other.*
There was the quiet drop of the wig as it hit the floor, and Cilan, at last, stepped out of the shadows.*
At that point, Ash, Iris, and Burgundy didn’t really knew what to think. It was hard to digest; Cilan was a member of the Shadow Triad. Cilan was an enemy…an
enemy…