• The site has now migrated to Xenforo 2. If you see any issues with the forum operation, please post them in the feedback thread.
  • Due to issues with external spam filters, QQ is currently unable to send any mail to Microsoft E-mail addresses. This includes any account at live.com, hotmail.com or msn.com. Signing up to the forum with one of these addresses will result in your verification E-mail never arriving. For best results, please use a different E-mail provider for your QQ address.
  • For prospective new members, a word of warning: don't use common names like Dennis, Simon, or Kenny if you decide to create an account. Spammers have used them all before you and gotten those names flagged in the anti-spam databases. Your account registration will be rejected because of it.
  • Since it has happened MULTIPLE times now, I want to be very clear about this. You do not get to abandon an account and create a new one. You do not get to pass an account to someone else and create a new one. If you do so anyway, you will be banned for creating sockpuppets.
  • Due to the actions of particularly persistent spammers and trolls, we will be banning disposable email addresses from today onward.
  • The rules regarding NSFW links have been updated. See here for details.
Chapter 302
CHAPTER 302

Click. Click. Click.

The screen was blinding, but not as much since Honey had opened the blinds and let the final licks of sunlight shine through. My fingers touched the backspace arrow key with a light tap, rewinding my battle against Byron for what felt like the thousandth time today. The specific spot I'd been focused on for a while now was the moment when he'd released Kingambit onto the field. My eyelids closed for an instant, feeling horribly dry, and my throat tightened. There was a flash of scarlet, and the steel type appeared within the dark sandstorm, his form too blurred to get a good look with these ancient Gym cameras. It was only when Kingambit cut apart the sandstorm with that golden cutting move, that I got a good look at him. It had been long enough now that I'd stopped being salty at Byron bringing a newly-evolved Pokemon to the fight. New moves or tactics, I'd considered, but that? That had screwed me up in more ways than one.

I paused the video and looked at myself. Utterly frozen, chin high as if someone had been holding a blade to my neck and with trembling legs. Fingers twitching, mouth sown tightly shut and eyes half-closed. The feeling was still fresh in my mind, given that the battle was only hours old. That any move, any command I had Sweetheart execute would result in a loss. That no matter what steps I took, Kingambit would lead me to my doom. It had been a horrid, choking sensation that still had me shudder even now. His moves had seemed so calculated, his slashes so deep, his steps so quick. Kingambit had been larger than life, the concept of triumph itself.

In reality?

He was strong. Indubitably so, with the way he'd gone toe to toe with a Tyranitar. None of what I'd seen had been a lie. He had cut through her armor, had taken Earthquakes and punches and kept fighting afterward, but on the video, he was… not as indomitable as he'd seemed. Maybe it was the way his tiredness and strain were easier to notice with a clear head and the effects of Supreme Overlord not there to hamper me, but as I rewatched the battle over and over, focused on this specific moment, one notion rang louder than any other mistake I'd made during the battle.

I ordered Sweetheart to run when I shouldn't have.

I shifted in my seat and shot down the urge to gnaw on my nails through my bandages. I'd done it once already when Byron had been talking to me and bit through them, and Honey had been worried sick when he saw the state of my still-healing fingers and had forced me to switch my bandages early. Leaning back forward, I let the video play at double speed, letting the entire chase sequence play out. If I'd let Sweetheart stand her ground, if I'd let her fight like Sunshine had with Steelix, then maybe I'd have a badge right now instead of this hollow feeling inside of me.

No, not hollow. Inadequacy. My Pokemon were all strong enough, they were. Hell, Byron had even said that Sunshine fought too hard and our way of using heat to drown out all life ran the risk of getting a Pokemon killed— which meant that we'd have to start focusing on his dragon side or teach him to be better at manipulating heat like Emilia's Braixen was, when this entire thing with Galactic was over.

If we won.

I'd just fucked up again and again. Of course, no battle was perfect, but minor mistakes had added up until I made the last one I couldn't afford. I felt a hand on my shoulder and flinched for a moment, remembering Honey had been in the room watching the footage along with me. He'd been rather quiet, not knowing what to say to cheer me up.

"Thanks," I just said. "Oh, wow."

My voice was drier than usual, like I hadn't drank in hours, and I'd surprised even myself. Well, I hadn't. I'd also cried, screamed into my pillow and punched and cut it, but that was par for the course.

I brushed a strand of hair behind my ear to get a better look at my screen. "I'm okay."

The start of the battle had gone rather well, but it all started slipping when Princess had her wings broken.

It disturbed me, in the moment. Rattled me, despite not realizing it at the time. She'd be in the Center the entire week with Sunshine because of it, too. That feeling had made me not notice that the iron that had penetrated her back had been liquid seeping into her veins, and not solid blades, more of a liquid than solid.

I found myself rewinding the video, hearing a metallic burp behind my laptop from Mimi. I quickly lowered the screen, glad to see they hadn't been eating at the behind of the screen, but chewing through the bag of scrap metal I'd given them instead as an apology for having them sit through all this battling on my wrist earlier. They had not been a fan of all the hurt and violence.

Back to the battle.

The truth was, I hadn't known how to defeat Wormadam in concrete terms. My thoughts had frayed too much, and I'd ended up relying on a leap of faith that ended up working out, in the end, thanks to Buddy's breakthrough of learning to reform through any water and him going… feral, for lack of a better word. Not a huge problem, but it meant I wasn't thinking. Trust in bonds between me and my family was nice, but I couldn't rely solely on hope and a prayer, or it was bound to bite me in the ass eventually. What if there'd been a way to beat Wormadam while still preserving Buddy? Making him last just a little longer?

Not that I was seeing one right now, but that didn't mean it was impossible. I was finding it difficult to focus, when I'd been a few better decisions away from a fucking badge. There were plenty of other mistakes, too. Not expecting Byron to know I was the kind of trainer to prevent a recall when I'd done it to Maylene months earlier, for example. It was a hard-earned lesson, to understand that people would be studying me at the Conference. The honest truth was, I'd never ever battled a trainer who knew as much about me as I knew about them, and it showed. They did prepare you well for the Conference, didn't they? My back strained to stay straight, and I moistened my lips— and eyes when Honey asked me to please blink.

"Should have sent Sweetheart against Empoleon at the end," I muttered. "Then she wouldn't have been able to speed up the mercury poisoning process. Kingambit would have taken her down, but then it would have been an exhausted Kingambit against a tired Princess."

And she was basically the worst kind of Pokemon for him to face, instead of a large, slow-moving target like a Tyranitar. A flier who was… well, not agile with her broken wings, but she could have flown high enough for it not to matter, and we would have won.

Even still.

With everything having gone the way it had.

I shouldn't have asked her to run. That was when I'd lost the fight and given up on the initiative. Let ourselves be baited with our backs to the water. Using Rock Polish had made her easier to knock down too, with the heightened friction against the floor.

I'd fucked up, as plenty of people had liked to point out. Oh, they were almost all gentle about it. Goalducc, for example, had put out a commentated analysis of the battle within the hour after his live commentary and had caught most of what I had. There were a lot of others chiming in, just as there had been when Denzel had lost. The most dedicated of my fans were quick to lay the blame on Claydol, to say that with Honey, I would have easily nabbed the badge from Byron's hands.

Had I not been tired and had a reputation to uphold because of Poketch, I would have remembered their names and DMed them instead of blocking them on sight. Without Claydol there, my entire strategy with Angel fell apart and he would have gotten torn up by Lucario without so many vines to overwhelm him. Fighting steel types capable of cutting in general hadn't been his forte, especially when Vine Terrain was still in its beginning form and the soil hadn't been as good as I expected. They meant well, but reading the 500th comment and beyond backseating about what moves or tactics my team should know or trashing Claydol from people who had no idea what they were talking about and who'd never battled a day of their lives got tiring.

I would have loved to say I hadn't let the online discourse get to me, but people were already comparing…

Comparing me to the people who'd won on their first tries. Barry. Lauren.

Cece.

I hadn't watched her battle yet. Not even talked to her beyond sending a message right after my battle and muting my alerts on all my devices. I didn't want her to be disappointed in me… to think less of me for getting caught in these stupid mistakes and throwing the battle. I was better than this. Poketch, for their part, I couldn't ignore. They were miffed to see me lose so close to announcing me as their new Unovan Representative in tandem with their declaration about expansion to a brand new region, and Melody was working overtime to keep the heat off my back and have them understand that a loss at the first attempt of any 8th badge battle was normal.

That was what I was. Normal.

Gah! This fucking sucked.

But it had opened my eyes, too. Shown me that I was good at tricking myself that everything was going according to plan, that it was fine, when it wasn't. Shown me that violence was a tool that could be used to throw me off-balance and to probe for weaknesses just like I used it against others. Every single time my team had gotten mauled to such an extent before had been when my emotions had been dampened one way or another except with Zoroark, and that…

Well, yeah. I'd frozen up in my tracks, and Claydol had been the one to recall Honey when his hand had been cut off. He might have died, had the ground type not been there. What was the point of using violence as a tool if I couldn't even move when it was done to the people I cared about? It made me a hypocrite.

There was a lesson, there, woven into this battle. A lesson about keeping my mind clear in the face of having my tactics turned against me, and in the face of the pressure some Pokemon could have. My fingers traced the mousepad, but a strange sound interrupted me.

My stomach growled, and Mimi crawled from behind my laptop, pinging me with notions of sustenance over and over again.

I tilted my head toward them. "You hungry? You still have some metal left, and it's clean, too." I squinted at the scraps, holding one between my fingers before dropping it on the desk again. It clattered next to them. "Yep, no rust on any of them."

The steel type mewled, their little arms grabbing at the piece of iron, and waved it my way.

I snorted, leaning against a palm with my other hand tapping their golden head. "You know I don't eat metal, silly."

Electivire raised a finger, saying that technically, I'd never tried.

I forcefully exhaled through my nose. "I'll try when you try." I stretched my back, hands intertwining together and toes wiggling in my shoes. "But you're right, Mimi. I haven't eaten since breakfast, so I guess I should get some food. The others have probably called me a thousand times, too. Just… I need to figure out a little more stuff."

Like what strategy I'd employ the next time to win, and a way to hone myself into a true knife capable of piercing through Byron. Not that he'd been very shield-like during the battle, anyway. He'd used all of his most offensively-minded Pokemon, save for Wormadam, and even her offensive power was rather insane—

A knock on the door, rough and annoyed. Chase, then. There was a rise of irritation at him interrupting my autopsy, but I let it settle while Honey moved to open the door. Mimi hissed, becoming all spikes and needles, but I scooped them up and placed them in my sweater. They grabbed onto my collar, their eye becoming a disapproving 'X' before slipping underneath and hiding away, more out of habit than anything else, given that Chase knew about them.

Chase looked up at Electivire as soon as he opened the door. "Hey, big guy. Came to visit your Mom, or whatever."

The electric type ushered him in with his usual grin, waving at a pair of guys trying to look into the room instead of scaring them away like Buddy would have. Unfortunately, he was in his Pokeball right now, since he was too tired to even lay in a bath.

"Gee, you look like shit," he said. "This room reeks."

Well, I hadn't showered yet after that battle.

I sneered, turning away from him. "Whatever. Come to talk to me about the fight?"

He slipped past me and opened a window. "I was watching."

"Yeah, I figured you'd be there." I spun around, turning to straddle my chair. "Angry I lost?"

"Not exactly. I was more trying to look at how he'd try to put you in the dirt," Chase said, a finger tracing the outline of his cap. "See if I can figure how he'd do me in." His arms crossed, and he leaned against the wall. "It was a good fight. Won't tell you how you screwed up, since it looks like you've figured it out."

He awkwardly gestured at my face, then at my laptop, and I relaxed a smidge. I'd expected him to be more combative about this, but that was probably because of our last interaction.

"He fucked me over," I sighed.

"He did. Williams was going crazy about that Kingambit, given the fact that it's— he's brand new. Even in the audience, that Pokemon took my mind for a spin. That ability's no joke."

"Well, they're meant to lead armies or whatever, so I guess it makes sense to make their opponents feel like they have no choice but to run when they're the only ones left on the field. Still doesn't make me feel any better, though." Pausing, I crouched to check if I had any water left in the fridge. There was, and fresh at that. I felt Mimi scramble to keep themselves still against my shirt. "Water?"

"Sure thing."

I threw him a bottle, and he caught it. "Damn it, it would have been funnier if you dropped it."

He scoffed. "Are you trying to trip me up?"

"Little old me?" I feigned as much innocence I could as I opened my bottle. "No way! I only want what's best for you, Chase, you know that."

"That tone's way too real, you little gaslighter," he said with a disturbed shiver. "Anyway, you're doing better, then? Not spiraling, or whatever? Denzel wanted to check up on you but he pussied out and said the last time he tried you ended up yelling at him through the door." His eyes glanced up at Honey, who'd been watching us talk. "Apparently this guy didn't open it either."

The electric type grunted, staring at me with suspicion, and I avoided his eyes. Hadn't told him that yet. Truth was, I'd heard the others' voices too. Pauline, Emi, Louis and Justin had all been there, given that I'd rushed out of the Gym before they could make it out of the bleachers with only a text saying I was going to study my battle. That's gonna be an awkward conversation.

"He wasn't out at the time," I shrugged. "I wanted to be alone to study the battle at first, I only released him a while ago to break the news."

He'd been as crushingly disappointed as I had, too, even if he hadn't been in the battle, though it had been cute to see him cheer on the others when he'd watched the fight on my laptop for the first time over my shoulder as quietly as possible not to break my focus. Even if he'd known the loss was coming, he'd been super invested in it and everything.

"So he asked you to check on me?" I continued.

"I was gonna come anyway. You know, to talk about the last time we spoke."

"Hm?"

"I still maintain my position," he grunted, "but if it has to be this way, if everyone does feel the need to be roped in—"

"Just Maeve, Emilia and Pauline," I interrupted.

"Then I figured we should use the remaining week to talk and strategize. Militarily-speaking. You know, talk about the full capabilities of our teams and see if any of our Pokemon can mesh together and do stuff like Pauline and Emilia apparently did the other day."

Oh, that's why he was into this suddenly, and he must have been talking about their recent session with Denzel, since he'd recorded that one— not for content, but for them all to review, which was something I should have thought about. Given that he had no psychic or Pokemon great at barriers, he had relied on Milotic's Protect for defense, winning easier than I did mostly because he'd taken the fight super seriously after I had warned him not to underestimate them, but still, Emi and Pauline's cohesion in battle was unmatched.

"I don't think we'll reach their point, but it'd be good to know what everyone is capable of so we don't go in blind. Train together, too."

"My team's at the Center," I grumbled.

"Well, you can watch, at least. And most of 'em won't be in there for too long, so they'll be able to join in."

"Yeah, I guess. Wait, I had a time limit to challenge Byron, that means…"

He smirked. "Means I'll wait until we kick Team Galactic's ass to the curb before putting him in the dirt and getting my answers. I have a strategy in mind, now, but I didn't have the time to finish implementing it properly before the time ran out."

"That means that you'll probably get one try," I exhaled, pressure mounting in my chest.

"Huh? Don't believe in me?" he frowned, though I could tell he was fooling around.

"Well, you said that you'd lose."

"Days ago! When I still didn't have a concrete idea of what to do!" he yelled. "Now I'm locked in. I'll make sure he answers for what he's been doing to the Iron Islands. Why he abandoned us."

We spoke about the battle for a while, and sometimes Honey chimed in and I translated his words for Chase. All of Byron's Pokemon had left an impression on Chase, and he seemed to have answers he hadn't had when we'd last spoken. There was a certainty about his tone and body language that hadn't been there before.

"Talk to Mira recently?" I asked. "She was lonely before I came to Jubilife."

"The shrimp? Yeah, we speak. Nearly every day when I get back from training," he said. "Can't stop recommending me horrid Kalosian music these days she's gotten into. Feels like it's making my ears bleed."

"Right?"

"She's crazy. I was making sure she hasn't been slacking in her training just because she gets lost in her mind or whatever. That Goodwill kid's been hanging out with her again."

Right. Lauren had Teleported her way back to Jubilife, now, though it had taken many jumps and multiple days. I thought she'd planned on coming here to visit her parents at first, truth to be told, but there was bad blood there, and she mostly wanted to take a few days of rest until she headed out to train by hunting down strong trainers. Barry, for his part, was back in the south and living between Twinleaf and Sandgem depending on the day, either with his mother or with Professor Rowan, Lucas and Dawn.

"Y'know, I can't help but be curious," I said. "Were you never interested in her?"

He mulled over his answer for a few seconds. "She's an interesting girl, but y'know, dating and stuff isn't my thing, so I just let her burn out. Rather be friends than dabble in something that doesn't interest me. You know, what you and Cece have, I understand it, but I don't get it. Thought it'd come one day, that something would click when I met the right girl, but it hasn't yet. Maybe never."

I winced when he mentioned Cece's name, deciding to call her as soon as this conversation was over. "Fair enough. I thought you two were cute together is all."

"You have awful taste."

"What?!"

"What do you even know about romance anyway?" he asked, pushing himself off the wall. "You're like the most oblivious person ever when you aren't cheating with empathy."

Honey agreed, saying that I'd tried to pair him up with Lopunny.

"Dude, I— you traitor!" I hissed. "Don't try to pretend like you weren't using you two learning how to read at the same time as a way to flirt!"

The little prankster was pretending not to have a crush just to embarrass me!

"I dunno, Grace, I think you're just seeing things," Chase said.

Mimi had enough, and finally crawled away from under my shirt and retaliated with a harmless kick to my leg.

Chase snorted at them. "Feisty."

"They're just in a bad mood from having to watch fighting for so long instead of us being out and about," I sighed. "You know what, how's Wimpod? Haven't seen her in a while?"

He scratched his cheek. "Wanna see her?"

As soon as I agreed, the little bug type popped out of her ball with twitching antennas, who scampered away from Meltan even though they were far smaller than her. Honey tried to approach, but to no avail, and Wimpod climbed up on Chase's leg and back.

But she wasn't screaming or crying, at least. Just scared. That was progress, even though she wanted nothing to do with me no matter how slowly I approached or gently talked to her. Hell, even Honey had more success than I had, getting to touch her scaly back before Chase recalled her.

"Too much stimulation's bad for her," he said. "And you know, I haven't told her yet about the Galactic stuff."

"Oh… you could have told me that beforehand. I could have let something slip."

He finished his water bottle and took a deep breath. "I think that when the time comes, I'll just leave her at the League or something. Keep her safe there, just in case one of those sickos decide to try to kill her and I'm dead."

My heartbeat quickened, and I grabbed at my shirt. There was a way about how Chase and Cece talked about their possible demise so casually that disturbed me.

"Might do the same thing with Mimi, I think." The steel type squealed at me, and I rolled my eyes. "Not in your Pokeball, you drama fiend! Arceus, has Princess been rubbing off on you or what? You two don't even talk yet!"

Displeasure, they sent me.

"We'll talk about it later," I said. "Anyway, uh, Chase, I'm gonna call Cece, so…"

"I'll get out of your hair. Come see us when you're done, we're all hanging out in the lobby."

I quickly nodded. "Yup."

He threw the bottle in the trash and left with his hands shoved in his pockets while I quickly scrambled to check on Cecilia's battle, wanting to watch at least once before I called her. The thumbnail quickly caught my eye as soon as I made it onto Wake's website, given the fact that there was no more water. It was gone. Evaporated, with the five islands acting as mountains instead, the central one even having collapsed midway through the fight.

Her strategy had been this.

Leading with Hydreigon, she had fought back against another Empoleon, forcing Wake to use the first switch of the battle through the sheer brutality the dragon showed. There was power there, but also subtle skill that hadn't been present during her fight with Byron for her seventh badge. The way the turquoise light surrounding him seemed to cause all moves to cower beneath his form, and they became weaker as they struck him. The way one head had made Empoleon freeze for a moment with what must have been Scary Face while the other two combined a Dragon Pulse and Charge Beam. It was something they excelled at, now. Mixing and matching moves to obtain different results.

Azumarill had come out next, and despite the range advantage Hydreigon had on them, the water type had swarmed the field with bubbles of water and glamour that exploded upon contact and were powered up with the storm Empoleon had set up at the start of the battle, forcing Cecilia to expend one of her recalls as well, revealing her Toxicroak.

Vacuum Wave user, my eyes instantly narrowed. The bubbles actually didn't pop when exposed to the move, but it did drag all the air out of Azumarill's lungs and start evaporating the water around them. The fairy type was poisoned before getting back into the sea, and from now on it had just been a matter of waiting them out.

Of course, that didn't mean Cecilia got the takedown for free. Knowing that time hadn't been on their side, Wake had ordered Azumarill to use Belly Drum and the water type completely turned the battle around, using her exploding glamour bubbles as support while she beat up Toxicroak with a relentless fervor that had both of them fall by the end of the fight. Still, the fact that Toxicroak had drawn against a water type in the rain had me in awe at how far she'd come so quickly.

The battle continued in a rather equal manner, with Scizor and Hydreigon battling a Feraligatr and Wailord, the latter of which was the one to take down Hydreigon. Since this was a battle she was fighting tooth and nail for, it wasn't looking like Palafin was going to come out, with how close things were.

That was until she sprung her trap.

Both were out of their three switches, and Cecilia had three Pokemon left while Wake had two, his Empoleon having fallen as well. Since Crasher Wake was one of the weaker Gym Leaders, one could expect him to use two of his personal Pokemon, and as a man for theatrics, and like was the usual for these kind of battles, he'd kept them for last. The first one had been Quagsire, just as dumb looking and unaware as one could expect from their species despite having heard that he was not from rumors online.

See, despite what people thought, Crasher Wake was not someone to only use the rain. Sometimes, he used mist to make visibility near zero, or he summoned clouds at ground level to use electric attacks, for example, but against Cecilia, he had leaned toward rain, stacking up Rain Dance after Rain Dance. It was a veritable storm that had her own Pokemon unable to hear her own commands, by the end, which meant that they could only run on instinct and what they'd planned beforehand while she watched, with every island but the central one having been swallowed by the waves. Powerful tsunamis swarmed the entire arena, seemingly sped up and controlled by Wake's Pokemon, making life hell for anyone but a water type.

Some would call it boring, maybe, to see him do the same thing so frequently, but this was actually an excellent test for Cecilia. She had, after all, always been the worst of us at manipulating the weather and the terrain, even if she had finally started dabbling and was actually decent at it now.

So here had been Crasher Wake's test, or at least the main one I could see. With her back against the wall, two personal Pokemon left powered by multiple Rain Dances and no way to claw her way back to influence the terrain and weather, how was she going to win?

Slowking had been the answer. Not because he was a water type, but because she had pushed Disable to its limits. Ordinarily, the move only prevented a Pokemon from employing the last move they'd used, but not Slowking's. He parsed through Quagsire's mind, pulling at the exact move he'd wanted him to stop using.

Rain Dance.

It was a majestic display of skill, one that had me rewinding that part of the video twenty times to understand what had happened. From then on, it was just a matter of waiting out a storm that was collapsing on its own weight and couldn't be sustained, though Quagsire still ended up taking him down, by the end of it, breaking through Slowking's barriers even though they rivaled Claydol's.

Then came Talonflame, and she burned. All of the water was swept away by a Heat Wave hot enough to turn sand to glass with Quagsire too weak to do anything about it, without rain to constantly regenerate himself and too tired after a drawn-out fight with Slowking. Quagsire did come close to taking her down with attacks wide enough for her speed not to matter, but she was not frail as she'd once been, with many ways she and Cece had come up with to stop her wings from getting hit and her wings broken. She had gotten used to seeing that, had she? Unlike Princess, Talonflame had gotten hers broken so many times it was probably routine.

In the end, it had been Golurk against Poliwrath. The ghost type now was even worse to fight. Discounting the sheer destructive power on display that put all of my Pokemon to shame, there was a time limit to how long you could last in battle with him, and it was all because of his song. Listen long enough, and you'd go unconscious, weakening along the way, too. It tied in beautifully with her disabling of the rain and its powerful sound. Despite Poliwrath having set up another one, Lehmhart's song had been so loud it easily broke through any singular Rain Dance, even from one of Wake's Pokemon. She'd broken the stacking Rain Dance and won because of it.

Even then, Cecilia had won by the skin of her teeth in a fight so grand the central island had been destroyed. Poliwrath had been strong enough to go toe to toe with Lehmhart's powers, no doubt putting that fighting type to good use.

Damn it, she was cool. Composed the entire fight, too, which was what I'd been missing, granted Wake didn't throw a Pokemon with Pressure at her, or something akin to it. I rewinded her video by muscle memory until Honey grunted at me with an engine-like laugh while he played with Mimi in his hand, holding them by the window and throwing them up with weak magnetism.

"Uh, right," I nodded. "Better call." I blew a raspberry, lying down on my bed on my stomach instead of sitting on my chair while kicking my feet in the air. She was on top of my contacts, so I was quick to dial her number, never mind that Honey snickered at me having a heart next to her name.

When I glared, he raised his good hand and said I'd been worrying for no reason anyway.

"Probably. I mean, it still sucks, but— oh, hi Cece!"

There was the sound of the TV in the background— no, not the TV, probably her laptop. Knowing her, she must have been watching Unovan news or something to keep her mind off things. Not like there was much to do now that her team was at the Pokemon Center and Maeve was busy training most days.

"Hi."

Oof, she was frustrated. Not angry, though, so that was a plus. Probably understood that I needed space, but was annoyed I'd ghosted her the entire day and she'd been worried about me, which was understandable.

"Sorry?" I tried. "I'm… better now. Got all of my frustration out, I think." I cleared my throat and turned on my back. "I saw your battle, it was—"

"We were all worried sick. The others kept knocking at your door and you wouldn't answer," she scolded.

"I, um, I only heard one knock."

"There was more than one." Had there been? I must have been too focused early on to notice. "Before Chase got there they were about to call the Nurses to do a wellness check. They would have, if you hadn't answered."

I scoffed. "Come on, I was just studying, no need to make such a huge deal about—"

"That's not how it looked! You can't expect us to know that, especially with all the problems you're dealing with!" she rebuked, a slight quiver in her voice. "You tore apart your own fingers two weeks ago, Grace. We didn't know, and it would have been fine, but you didn't communicate!'

"I was… I'm sorry," I said. "Arceus, yeah it must have looked bad from the outside, I just wanted to— it's like I needed to figure out everything that went wrong and that I couldn't focus on anything else beforehand."

"I know, but you've never stormed off like that after a loss," she sighed. "You always talk at first before locking yourself up in your room. Keep up a brave face for a while, then you the rage, sadness and frustration out alone. I know what it's like to need space, but answering our messages when we tried checking in on you would have been nice."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sorry."

"Okay. Thank you for that." There was a noise, like the shifting of skin against a mattress. "I watched your battle."

"Let's not talk about my battle. It's just embarrassing and I hate it," I muttered. "I fucked up too many times to win."

"If you want to, that's fine."

For around an hour, we talked about her fight. Her thought process during every frame, the new moves and techniques she'd come up with, and how they'd trained that crazy Disable, too. Ordinarily, I was sure we would have kept this hidden, but with Galactic coming around, it was like Chase said. It'd be stupid not to know what everyone was capable of in detail just for a tournament I wanted so desperately to be in, but that might not come.

A tournament I might not even be in, depending on the events of next week. What if today was my last chance? What if I fucked myself over? Poketch didn't know, and they expected me to try again in two weeks, but I knew.

Don't think about it. Don't envision it. I had to believe that I'd make it, because that light at the end of the tunnel, that thread of normalcy was the only thing keeping me sane. Hopes of facing the strongest trainers at the Conference, with this entire nightmare behind us all and the world saved. You're okay.

"For Zolst, we've been trying to get a hang of dragon TE, but it's got some… esoteric properties if you're not trying to just create some kind of blast. It's difficult to figure out what it exactly does when people at our level keep their cards close to their chest."


"Nothing online?"

"Not in detail, no," Cece said. "It's been trial and error, so right now our working theory is Might, or at least it's what I think it is. He certainly likes the sound of it. It's got a way of making everything around it cower in fear and subjugating TE that we haven't gotten much experience with yet, otherwise Zolst never would have been able to take so many Ice Beams or Freeze Dries. Wake tried to freeze him from the inside a couple of times."

"You know, I had a similar thought when Sunshine was fighting Steelix. Haven't started anything yet on that front, though. We plan to."

"There are a thousand different research papers on the subject of TE and none can agree on anything, so I'll have to come to my own conclusion anyway."

There was a lapse of silence. "So, are you and Maeve coming here?"

"When my team is healed. Golurk took a beating, so I won't be here until the time's basically come."

"Bummer. We can't even hang out before it all comes to a head."

"We can hang out on the phone more now that our Pokemon are all too banged up to train," she said, smirk clear in her tone. "Plus, I can't be missing out on those meetings you guys are going to have, can't I?"

I smiled. "You bet. Let me head downstairs."

Pausing, a gasp left my lips.

"Wait, I need to shower!"

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, yesnomaybeso, Sean M, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Tina M, Nova, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kolby, ShipGoSync, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Daruda, Mystic Corn, menirx, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Eric, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Matthew M, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, catfishdog, Onyx2409, ChairmanK--, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Dvn, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Elie, Serina T, Iepton, sqw4l, Nihilea, V4Ford, Micah T
 
Last edited:
Chapter 303
CHAPTER 303

The reaction to my presence was a lot of scolding.

More than I'd expected, too, with Pauline doing the heavy lifting on that front. By the end of it she had hugged me tightly enough to squeeze the life out of me, so I figured I was forgiven. It was difficult to take a step back and understand how things had looked so much worse from outside my perspective, like the world had been collapsing around me and I wasn't going to recover from my spiral. To be honest, I was still miffed, with the taste of defeat still fresh in my mind and the hollow feeling tangible inside my heart, but it was far better than it had been hours earlier now that I'd found out the ways I'd messed up and berated myself for it. So yes, while that final notch on my Trainer ID hadn't been filled by Byron's badge and that sucked, there were more important things to focus on.

Having this conversation in public would have been stupid, so instead, we had gathered back in Emilia's room, where snacks and drinks had been laid about, reminding me of the earlier parties she'd used to host. It was a shame they'd both missed Justin's birthday on the 2nd, because she would have made it far more interesting than how depressing it really was, and the world might not be there for her own birthday on the 13th, so…

Uh, yeah. It was a good thing I didn't think out loud.

Speaking of Justin, he was here, though he wasn't going to participate in the meeting much, so he was simply observing and would probably report back to Louis later so they stayed in the know. Our friend hadn't wanted to be here for obvious reasons that he was barely holding it together even with my help, and throwing himself into this gathering would have just made things far worse than they already were. Justin was near the entrance, phone in hand and ready to type away at anything we said.

Chase was in the same corner, seemingly happy to be left alone with the only guy who was as quiet as he was. He didn't like this, and his displeasure was obvious, but as he'd said, it would be stupid to put his head in the sand and ignore working together just because he disagreed with our methods. I could tell even he was nervous, with the way he snacked on some greasy chips Emilia had placed on the desk. Chase never snacked on anything unhealthy.

Emilia went from guest to guest, making sure everything was set. She'd been busy these past few days, working harder than anyone else, and I hoped she wasn't going to burn out. Endless work was a good way to keep herself distracted, though, so I wasn't about to intervene and ruin the way she had found to cope.

Pauline was talking to me and Denzel about how she'd combatted toxic people on the forums and how he was scared she was going to get temporarily banned again, but there had been a lot of takes after my battle and she had a way of always finding the most toxic ones. Denzel was only half in the conversation, bending forward in front of a computer as he set up a call and hooked up his laptop screen to the television, with both Cece and Mira being on there. My girlfriend was dressed in her Sunday best, still wearing the frilly dress she'd had during her Gym Battle— granted, she could be wearing a trash bag and I'd still call her beautiful, even in 360p. Mira, meanwhile, was… well, at least her room was clean, with Alakazam and Gardevoir there to pick things up, but she was just wearing an oversized hoodie whose sleeves hid her hands and bottom went down to her knees, but honestly I couldn't blame her for going for that vibe. Those were comfortable.

Maeve was here too, though she was surprisingly not in Cece's room and in her own, with her Infernape sitting next to her, the flames atop his head having turned blue despite the fact that he was resting. There were no signs of uncomfortableness from the heat, though, which signaled that he'd learned to bring the ambient temperature around him under control despite him having grown so powerful.

"I think we're set up," Denzel slowly said. "Can you guys let me know if there's lag on your end?"

"Y—yeah, I— think there's— lag," Mira stuttered.

"Wow! Did we hire a comedian today?" he said with clear ennui, making most of the room chuckle. "Cece, are things fine?"

"Crystal clear."

"Thanks for wasting our time, shrimp," Chase sighed, scrunching up his bag of chips.

Mira crossed her arms. "You guys just don't get it. I came up with that joke spontaneously, too, I didn't even have it prepared or anything. And what if my internet was awful?!"

"I told them your internet was fine when I came here," I added.

She pouted, huffing as she slid down her seat with a terrible posture. I was glad to see she was doing well like she'd said in our texts, though it was difficult to figure out the microexpressions on her face with this quality. Really, that was why learning a Gym Leader's body language from video alone had been a bust except for the really expressive ones like Candice or Maylene.

"Thanks Denzel," Emi smiled. "Okay, everyone! Thanks for Chase's suggestion earlier today, we're going to be talking about what our Pokemon are capable of to start bettering our teamwork before go day. We'll be training together too, except for Mira and Cece."

"You could come here," Pauline told Mira. "Why're you holing up in your room?"

"I'll come to the meetings and join in when you call, but I'll stick around in Jubilife," Mira said. "And before you accuse me, it's not just because I'm selfish and being lazy, okay? It's because by being here, I have ACE Trainers next to important people. Like Grace's Dad or Melody. Or Lauren."

I gulped, feeling a tightening vice around my throat. My parents had already been assigned League guards to shadow them, according to the League, and so had everyone else's parents, but they weren't ACEs because there simply weren't enough to spare.

"Thanks, Mira," I nodded.

"Might as well make myself useful. I have no family that cares for me, so you know."

"Come on. We care about you," I said.

There were acknowledging words around the room, even a nod from Justin, and Mira turned away from the screen, bringing a hand to her eyes. "Thanks, guys. Love y'all."

Maeve chimed in, honed in on the topic at hand. "I'll be coming here. My flight's tomorrow and my Drapion's arm is healed."

There was something cold about her voice that hadn't been here before the incident in Pastoria. Her face, scarred by countless lines formed by powerful water jets, was utterly still while she spoke, her eyes narrow and focused. She had the face of a trained killer, one that I'd seen scant few times and had been plastered on my own when in the right headspace.

"You should come to Jubilife, Maeve," Mira said. "We should… you know, talk more before everything goes down."

"Hmhm. We'll talk when this is done and Galactic is dealt with."


There was uncomfortableness here. Malaise at a rift that had formed, signaling they weren't as close as they used to be. To be honest, we'd been rather bad friends to Maeve, save for Denzel and Mira who kept in regular contact with her and Cece who had only reconnected because they were in the same city, but everyone just had so much stuff to deal with that people got hurt or shoved to the wayside so we could deal with our own issues. I had not expected her to change this much, though. It was like her near-death experience had hardened her, and we'd only seen the start of it, before leaving. Now it had crystalized and would last.

Was she seeing a therapist? Would it be rude to ask?

"Sure thing, Maeve,"
Mira sighed.

I shared a look with Cece, but said nothing.

Emilia clapped to get our attention. "Back on topic. Before we address our Pokemon, we should figure out what everyone's going to be doing. Now obviously, Cece, Grace, Chase and Mira are the cornerstone of the whole plan with the League if the Lakes fall." She paced around the room, hands behind her back and staring downward. "But if they fall, you guys will be going up the mountain. What we figured was that we could try supporting you along the way, taking out grunts who are hanging out around the place and maybe some inside, too."

"Obviously this plan, if approved by everyone here, will be going to the League through the ACEs," Denzel added.

"Oh I'm sure they'll be mighty pleased about that," Mira said, sarcasm so dry it'd fit right in a desert.

Emilia ignored the verbal jab. "We can work with the League forces there, and let me remind you that our Pokemon are better than theirs!" she said, slightly defensively. "They won't refuse the manpower."

It was true, though an overgeneralization. The League started looking for trainers to recruit at the fifth badge, which was an off-ramp a lot of them took whenever they wanted to join the military. It used to be lower, but as time went on and from what Buddy and I had read in our books, the world had settled for a quality-over-quantity approach after seeing the sheer number of deaths the Great War had wrought, mostly out of necessity at first due to how few trainers remained, but the concept stuck now and five badges was around where the average League Trainer would be in Sinnoh. Sometimes it was lower, like in Kanto-Johto, or sometimes higher like in Unova or Hoenn, but it was a good benchmark to count on.

And right now, all of their Pokemon were easily stronger than any fifth badger.

"It's true that they wouldn't refuse any volunteers," Cecilia agreed. "We know how the League generally operates from the raid and we can teach you the basics so you aren't like a Magikarp out of water tactics-wise."

Emi snapped her fingers. "That's appreciated. So now, we're all on the same page. Next up, our teams."

What followed was, admittedly, a very long, multi-hour session of everyone laying out their Pokemon and their capabilities. Most of us took notes, though Mira and Chase did not. The former made sense, with how quickly she absorbed information these days, and the latter was probably because he just couldn't be bothered. I made sure to make a mental note about giving him mine later. It was moving, to see how far everyone had come from our early days. How each trainer had come up with unique ways to push teams to their limit and how not one person fought the same. Admittedly, this would be more useful for people who weren't Shards, since they were most likely to stick together, but like Chase had said, this couldn't hurt.

"Next, training," Emilia said.

"Oh man, did you have too much sugar or something?" Chase said through a yawn. "All of this talking is exhausting me."

"Chase, how can talking tire you out when you're so… you?" Cece asked with an amused smile.

"He forgot to work out his brain," Pauline mocked to the side. "It's like when you put all of your stats into strength and none into intelligence."

"Look at me, I'm Pauline, I talk like a fucking nerd." He mimicked her voice in the most obnoxious way possible. "Fucking stats. Get a grip."

"What? It was a funny joke."

"Not as funny as you having to cheat off of me during our written test in Flight School," he bit back. "So really, who's the dumb one here?"

Pauline went red, either from embarrassment or anger… or both, and she threw a pillow at him, which he easily dodged with a simple weave. The pillow ended up landing on Justin's head, sticking on him for a comically long time before falling to the ground. Cece, the grand engineer of this entire argument, hid her smile well behind her hand.

Denzel sighed. "Guys… sorry Justin."

He blinked, and while others might have missed the slight tug at his lips, I didn't.

"Let's take this seriously," Maeve chided.

Emi nodded, starting up her pacing again. "Right, so training. What we did with Denzel the other day helped just like it did with Grace. I was scared Sylvi might lean a little too into the battle, but he was nice about it."

"Told you he was better."

She looked at Pauline and shrugged. "I didn't really believe you, I have to admit. Sorry." A slight pause, then she resumed after clearing her throat. "Anyway, we can keep training with everyone, and I think we should mix and match partners too, just to soak up as much experience as possible. The problem is, our Pokemon will have to get to the Center and rest eventually."

"Not enough time, too much to do," I quietly agreed.

In truth, training like Maeve had done with Louis, or I'd done with Cece and Lauren— pushing your Pokemon, but not far enough for them to need to heal— wouldn't really work in this context, given the fact that we needed to build the habit of them getting powerful attacks aimed to kill thrown into their faces and the faces of their trainers. To get as close to the real thing as possible and see how they'd react.

"Not much we can do about that," Chase said. "You get the real deal, or you might as well not even try."

Maeve spoke up. "If your Pokemon are knocked out and at the Center, you should probably be looking at other people's fights. You guys are recording these, right?" When multiple people said yes, she continued. "Perfect. Send the first few to me, I'll give them a look while I'm on my flight."

"Sure. I think I'll just create a new group chat where we can drop all the footage, actually," Denzel said. "Easier to organize, just don't type there. Got it, Chase?"

Our friend raised his hands. "Look, no promises."

"Just name the chat 'do not type' in all caps," Cecilia suggested. "Surely he won't disturb it then."

"You better watch your back when you get here," he warned with crossed arms, tone just soft enough to know he was fooling around.

"Either way, we have a way to… well, not circumvent the issue, but make the most of what we have. We should make a battling schedule next. Form everyone into groups," Denzel said. "If there needs to be a readjustment, then just contact either me or Emi in the actual group chat. Got it, Chase?"

"Will do."

None of us believed him.



"You were fantastic out there, Grace. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"You'd say that to any battle I fought in, wouldn't you?"

"Given that I don't understand most of what's going on, probably?"

I scoffed. "Mom! You're supposed to lie!"

"I'm not a great liar, sweetie."

"Whatever. I hate the fact that it was close, you know? Makes it feel ten times worse to me."

"I think that it only feels that way. Getting wiped out certainly would have been worse, both for your confidence and your job at Poketch."

"Hm, you might be right, I guess I'm just angry— oh, hold on, my Pokemon are here."

A Nurse Joy arrived with a tray with most of my Pokeballs on it, with the notable exception of Sunshine and Claydol. It had been three days since my Gym Battle, and I was still salty about it enough to vent to anyone new that called, most recently my mother. Apparently the break in Princess' wings had been rather clean, with how she was already discharged from the hospital. Leave it to a psychic that high leveled to break bones in the most convenient ways possible, I thought to myself. This was nothing like the way Volkner's Electivire had broken Honey's spine, or even how Princess broke bones, and I appreciated Byron more for it. I held my phone in between my ear and shoulder while clipping my Pokeballs to my belt, and left the Pokemon Center to talk to the team before heading to check on another fight. This time it was Chase and Pauline against Denzel and Maeve, and I had a bet with Cece and Emilia going on if they'd be either completely dysfunctional or something would click and they'd have great teamwork.

"Anyway, I've been doing okay. Just… stressed."

"Oh, honey. You'll make it to the Conference, I'm sure of it. Have you been getting enough sleep?"

A sad smile crept up on my face. "Thanks. Uh, I've been trying, I guess. I don't get eight hours, though. That's kind of impossible, not enough time in the day."

"Sleep is important for teenagers!" she warned. "Don't go too hard on the Pokemon training, okay?"

"Yeah."

"And I'm always here if you need to talk. Your Dad too, of course."

"...yeah."

"We were thinking of getting all together for the Conference. We know it's important to you, so presenting a united front to support our daughter was one of Arthur's ideas. I never thought he'd want to see me again, but he knows how much it'd mean for you to have both of us there. We have our tickets already."

My breath shook. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

I walked out of the Pokemon Center. "That sounds like a lot of fun. I'm… looking forward to it."

"Yeah! I've never been before, so it'll be an experience. We'll be the loudest to cheer every time you fight."

"I… uh."

"What's wrong? Was I too forward? Do you not want me there?"

"No! No, I want you two there so badly, it's just—" I felt my back slide against the Pokemon Center's outside wall, ignoring the stares. "I love you two so much. And I wish we'd spent more time together."

My Mom paused. "Grace? What's wrong? You can talk to me, baby. Always."

I sniffled. "I'm good."

Keep yourself together.

"I'm good," I said again, steeling myself. "Sorry, that was weird."

"Ordinarily I'd try to push for an answer," she said. "But I know better than to try to force something out of you these days. Just… you can talk to me."

"I'll be okay. I, uh, I've got to run. Talk to my team about areas they could improve in and stuff. If everything goes well, I'll be swinging by next week to see you so I can train in peace for Byron and the Conference. Maybe get a haircut, too."

"I'll get my scissors ready," she joked.

"And Mom. You notice anything weird lately?"

"Weird how?"

"I don't know, like a feeling of unease or something. Being followed?"

"More government people have been out and about in town and hanging around the house, but other than that and your grandma being angry about it, no. Is there anything I should be worried about"

"Great. See you later."

"Oh. Okay. Love you."

"Love you too."

I gripped Princess' Pokeball in my hands.

I wasn't going to break like that again.

Part of me wanted to walk to the nearest landing pad to keep practicing walking without my crutch, but time wasn't something any of us could afford, at the moment, so instead I released Princess near the Pokemon Center and crouched, looking into her eyes.

"Hey baby," I smiled. "How're you feeling?"

Togekiss brushed up her forehead against mine, noticing I'd been teary-eyed or crying recently.

I closed my eyes, lowering my voice to a whisper. "Yeah. Yeah, I was. I talked with Mom, and you know, it's weird hearing her talk like nothing is going on. Like we're living in two different worlds, and that just— I dunno, it just hurts."

I glanced around me for a moment with a heavy exhale. They all had no idea, did they? Smiles on faces, worries about being late to come back from their lunch break or it being too short. Trainers strategizing together, huddled in groups, or talking about which trainer was going to place where in the Conference.

In other words, it was a normal day.

"I'm okay."

Rising to my feet, I mounted Princess, asking her to fly me to Canalave's outskirts, somewhere we could be alone, and she ended up traveling out west. We'd never gone this direction before, and we spotted many cliffs that were continuously getting battered by the sea. While we flew, I told her about our loss, which she'd guessed when she hadn't instantly heard me gushing about a win as soon as I released her. Needless to say, she was furious when I told her about how she'd gotten poisoned by metal again. Mimi tightened around my wrist, self-conscious about what their predecessor had done. The memories were gone, but they knew what our time at Lakhutia had been like by now.

Princess landed on a dirt path leading to a dead end, possibly there in case the city ever wanted to expand that way. There was nothing here but shrubs and light vegetation for miles with not a human in sight and only a couple of Wingull flying overhead to keep us company. I released the entire team. As soon as Angel saw the look on my face, he figured we'd lost and instantly started soothing me. The rest knew already, including Sweetheart since she'd been the last to fall. Breaking the news to Sunshine and Claydol was going to be tougher.

"We lost."

The words were heavy and almost painful. Saying them was like ripping off a bandaid. Seven Gyms, we had won on the first try, and we all so dearly wished we could have finished off with a perfect record. That was the kind of stuff that put your name in all of the trainer tabloids, on television, that had people talking to you like you were a prodigy the likes of Cynthia despite that obviously not being the case. I hadn't cared about any of that. I'd just wanted to tell myself that I was good enough to stand among the best and the brightest.

I bit my lip. "It's bitter, isn't it? Disappointing."

Sweetheart stomped a foot against the ground, demanding a rematch with Kingambit right this instant. I quieted her down with a look, though. Now wasn't the time for this, and her loss hadn't even been her fault.

"I won't tell you not to be angry or anything like that." I turned away from them. "But I'll tell you that you were enough to win. All of you. You all had a breakthrough during the battle," I said. "You should be proud of yourselves. I was the one who was lacking. I failed you all."

I turned back to face them.

"Princess, you've learned to chain moves into more moves, and you've become awful to fight. The steel type gym just wasn't a great matchup for you. Now I've got to give you more moves to work with, and you have to train your stamina."

Any other type, and that cutting Moonblast would have devastated them. I had to figure out a way to work on her defenses now that barriers weren't enough, because she wasn't fast enough to dodge everything. Hell, even Talonflame had ways to defend herself, now, and she was way faster than Princess was. The main idea I was working with, other than copying Air Burst, were concentrated shields instead of a wide one surrounding her like we'd been doing. Packed tightly, it would be a lot more effective and allow her to keep her speed, but it would require even more precision and multitasking.

"Buddy, you managed to come back from vapor. If we can manage to turn you to mist on command, you'll be able to disappear and essentially be a true ghost in everything but in name. You'd be faster and harder to detect if we can thin that mist enough, too. Also, Taunt and Will-O-Wisp is a hell of a combo. And you're getting closer to making multiple of yourself. Actual clones, not just shades."

The water type nodded, though he apologized for losing himself during the fight like he had a thousand times already these past few days.

"Sweetie."

Tyranitar growled, still angry at herself.

"Your loss was my fault," I said. "You just followed what I said, but I should have trusted in you, and I'm sorry for that. But you were so cool out there! Not only did you face a Kingambit boosted by Supreme Overlord and pressuring you too, that Dark Sandstorm stuff? Honey was gushing over how scary you were when you mauled that Empoleon. I guess that was revenge enough for what she did to your sister."

While Sweetheart grinned, Princess added that she would have liked for a whole flipper to be torn off, at the very least. Honey pretended he hadn't been excited for her, scratching his head and looking away.

"Angel, your vine terrain works, and we've only just scratched the surface! There's a lot we can do with the move, and you faced down and beat what was basically one of your worst opponents outside of Kingambit. I thought Byron would save Lucario for Sweetheart, but of course that was before I knew he had a new evolution to use. We'll work on your camouflage and creating lookalikes next, okay?"

The grass type blinked, his vines moving in a very pleased way.

"Sunshine isn't here with us, but he brought the fight to Byron and perfected the battling style we've been working on for months. I bet he remembers how it felt, to work so hard for so little progress. To be stuck, thinking that you'd stagnate forever." I paused, letting the words settle. "He beat that feeling," I praised. "He faced a Steelix and won on his own. I'd be willing to bet that victory alone was worth the struggle. That it was so sweet to beat the hell out of him and make him realize that he wasn't going to be switched out. Claydol learned to make decisions for themselves, and that led to them picking a name. It wasn't a great debut, but they did exactly what I asked of them, and that's a sign of what's to come."

"You all worked hard, and we nearly tasted victory," I continued. "Let's make sure we rip that badge out of Byron's hand next time."

They cheered, and it was just so motivating.

"So I have a few ideas for you all to work on when we finish saving the world. Honey, you can start working on that electric technique I've been telling you about…"



I wished we could have gone back to Lakhutia for this.

A strange thought to have for sure, when the city was full of horrible memories, each one worse than the last. Sometimes, in the deepest reaches of the night, when it was just me against Princess' warm fur and I was feeling her chest slowly rise, I would close my eyes and imagine Lou dying. Alone, terrified and screaming, despite the fact that no one could hear her. Every time I would take deep breaths and Buddy would hover from the ceiling, asking if I was okay. Sometimes, we'd go on a walk and we'd speak about regrets. I'd speak to him about wishing Lou was still here, and how the pain of losing someone was something I wasn't sure I'd be able to go through again, but that it was something I'd considered a possibility and been mentally preparing myself for. He'd tell me about his mother, and how she used to be so caring until she evolved and lost herself to rage. Meeting her now in the ocean was about a million times as difficult as finding Honey's parents again, if she wasn't dead already. Jellicent couldn't die through natural causes so long as they had enough energy stolen from others, but there were many creatures in the ocean capable of killing her.

Or that was what he thought of it, anyway. He did not really have any desire to see her again, after so many centuries spent apart. Even the worst of grief healed over time, according to him, but still, being in Claydol's old home, which had robbed them of a personality and name for this occasion, would have felt right.

Aliyah did always get annoyed at my symbolism.

Instead, we had all gathered on a hill facing the ocean at the outskirts of Canalave. The sea had beaten against the cliffs here for who knew how many years, turning them into what they were today. Towering spires of ancient white rock, weathered and worn by centuries of relentless waves, casting shadows that danced upon the foamy canvas below. Erosion was something that happened to all of us, but like this cliff, we were still here, and hopefully we would be for a long time. The wind whipped up my hair and blew it across my face, making me wish I'd tied it up for this or that I'd brought something to do so, but it was just me and my team, without even my backpack.

For once, Buddy was not in the ocean below, soaking up the water. He was attentive, eyes wandering between each person here as he stood vigil in silence. Occasionally, he'd let out an irritated click or whistle to tell Sweetheart and Honey to quiet down on the sidelines, since they were arguing about who would win in a fight. Mimi was sat down on Angel's head, glancing at the ocean while the grass type spoke to Princess about her latest sculpture ideas. She was in a rut right now, though, without many ideas, and she lamented that traveling so much limited her options for large-scale projects. The grass type was mostly nodding along and letting her speak, though. Sunshine, for his part, was lying in the grass, as lazy as ever, a little ways away from the main group so he could get some peace and quiet.

It was nice, to see them all gathered again after this week.

I shushed everyone, ending any ongoing conversation to release Claydol. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, casting its golden glow over the cliffside. Part of me wanted to tease Sunshine, saying that he'd be the sun one day, but this morning wasn't ours. It was Claydol's.

"Hi."

I looked up at them, and they blinked at… well, all of us. Their eyes settled on their surroundings for a moment, making sure everyone was safe, and there was a strum of power that gathered around us. They were on edge, with Galactic about to strike. I was going to give a speech about that right after this.

"My King. Fellow Members of the Royal Court," Claydol chimed. "It is nice to see you again."

There were grunts and noises of agreement in response. A wave from Honey and his now-healed hand, a half-opened eye from Sunshine, and a pat on the head from Angel—

"Please do not touch my head, Caretaker. You might roughen the surface."

Tangrowth's vine drooped, and he moved on to Mimi anyway, who hadn't even been paying attention to any of this. The steel type was one for fun and adventure, but not really big on speeches and momentous events like these.

"I wanted everyone here," I started. "For you to tell us your name."

Another blink, slower this time, and their eyes turned to circles. "Your kind gesture is appreciated," they said.

Then, they stayed quiet. For a whole minute.

"Um…"

"Awaiting for permission."

"Oh. Oh, you had it, you didn't need to ask," I giggled. "I thought we were making progress on that."

"I was not certain."

"Well… go ahead." I vaguely gestured forward.

Claydol hovered a smidge higher in the sky and seemed to glow a little brighter in the sunlight.

"From this moment forth, I shall be known as Cassianus, as was the first King of Lakhutia. The name originates from the lineage of the hollow or helmeted warriors. As such, I shall embody this essence, my King, serving as your devoted warrior and protector, and I humbly present my name for your acceptance."

Our world stood still for a moment as we let the name settle, with even Meltan looking the psychic's way. It was admittedly a break from my usual naming scheme, which was a given, when Claydol had picked a name, and not me. Still, they had named themselves after— no, stolen a name of one of their old Kings, and the first one at that! The founder of the city, and the one who'd come across and befriended Melmetal. He'd been like a deity to them!

And yet, Claydol— no, Cassianus had taken the name for themselves. Stolen it, and put it to better use.

I'd be seeing more of that, wouldn't I?

"That's a pretty name," I said. "Feels important when you say it, too, which is nice."

"That was one of the criteria when it came to mind in the middle of that fight, so that is a correct assessment."

"It's kind of a mouthful though, so, erm… can I call you Cass for short?"

Claydol's eyes turned to lines, clearly disappointed in me. "Perhaps after a week, that will be acceptable."

Smirking, I agreed. "Deal!"

Sunshine groaned, saying that Cassianus shouldn't have accepted that, but a deal was a deal, and it was too late to renege on it, or I'd collect some other way. Collateral damage, so to speak.

"Now that you have a name. Hug?"

Cassianus squinted with all of their eyes, and Honey and Sweetheart cheered from the side, the two goofballs. I outstretched my arms, wiggling my fingers more threateningly than this whole ordeal actually was, mostly as a joke, and Claydol hovered an inch closer.

"If you must."

"Great!"

I wrapped my hands around them, though their body was far too large for my fingers to meet behind their 'back'. The ground type's body was made of a cool and smooth clay-like material and felt firm but oddly yielding. The surface was adorned with markings that my fingers could trace, giving a tactile sense of Cassianus' ancient origins. There was energy embedded deep in the creases, so subtle you'd miss it if you didn't focus, but it was there. There was a subtle vibration or hum emanating from their core that reverberated through me like bass during a concert or the engine of Dad's old car when I was sitting in the front seat. The temperature was cool to the touch initially, but as the hug continued, there was a gradual warmth accumulated, like touching a sun-warmed surface.

It was a very nice hug overall. Not soft, but nice.

"I love you."

That is appreciated. You are also a very important individual. Designation: 98th King of Lakhutia.

"Gee," I pouted. "You're supposed to say you do too. Whatever, I'll get you one day."

Turtonator side-eyed me, saying that this was like reliving the awfully annoying old days, and Princess sneered at his reluctance to just be happy without adding a snide comment or complaining, for once. I let go of Cassianus, letting the others give this hugging thing a try, but they were very conscious of people touching their head, so that place was off-limit except for hats. I let everyone have fun for a few minutes, happy to see Mimi getting closer with Princess, little by little. They were still too scared to approach Sunshine, though, and it wasn't like he was making it easy, glaring at them every time they got close. Claydol passed by everyone and had them enunciate their name over and over, just because they liked the way it sounded.

It was nice to see everyone coming together.

"Sorry to ruin the vibe, but… can you all listen up?" My back straightened, and I stood up from the grass-filled cliff. "We're back together, but as we all know, our peaceful days are going to come to a stop very soon. Two days, to be exact. Maybe earlier than that."

Honey chimed in, saying that it might be later, too.

"True," I admitted. "But it's better to prepare for the worst so we aren't disappointed, though. But yes, Team Galactic is striking, and soon. Apparently, Abel just gave them a bunch of techniques to better hide their base without even knowing where it was just so he got paid, that asshole." Rage bubbled within me, and the sound of the ocean helped calm me down. "Otherwise they would have been able to find it by now."

I hadn't found out from my own ACE Trainers, given the fact that… well, I didn't talk to them anymore, did I? I was too scared to look them in the face after Lou's death, and I figured they preferred it this way. No, it had been Mira, who had asked her ACE Trainers about it, and Abel had confessed to it when interrogated a while ago.

"So yeah, things are going to blow up, and soon," I sighed. "I want us all to be on the same page before it does. Does anyone have any worries they'd like to share?"

Togekiss and Sunshine tried to speak at the same time, but the dragon let her go first in a show of unusual maturity. She asked that if we had to fight, would killing grunts be off-limits now or not. Funnily enough, Turtonator had been about the ask the same question, just in more vulgar terms of him being tired of holding back.

Electivire, Tangrowth, and even Meltan stirred at the question, carefully watching how I'd answer.

"I think that it won't be off-limits," I exhaled after a few seconds. "No way for us to work otherwise, plus I doubt the ACEs will go with a light hand anyway." Noticing Honey's clenched fist, I quickly added. "Here's how this is going to go differently from the raid, though. I don't want to use Team Galactic being terrible people to be a horrible person in turn."

I paused.

"The grunts, we try to save if possible. Sleep Powder, or just tying them up with vines if they don't give us too much trouble. Their Pokemon, we just knock out. If we can't, then… well, we'll have tried, at least. Of course, that doesn't concern the Commanders. We have blood to collect from Saturn, and knowing Mars, she might come after us. They are not humans, they are things in the shape of people."

Those two, if I could help it, would not get any mercy, though I knew the battles would be difficult and brutal.

Brutal like Byron's, but worse. A notion of understanding passed through me and plastered a rueful smile across my lips. He'd known.

"Either way, unless we have no other choice, no killing. You guys are strong enough to knock out Pokemon from grunts without having to go for the kill. I hope that's a good compromise?"

That seemed to be an easier pill to swallow for Honey and Angel, at least, though Mimi was still displeased. The grass type signed that he'd gotten good at launching spore bombs to target trainers far away, now, so as long as barriers or Protects were broken, he'd be able to take out trainers from afar, and once the head of the Ekans was gone, well… it was a matter of time until we won.

"Perhaps we should account for a scenario if we are ever separated from these 'ACE' Trainers or if they expire," Cass suggested.

"The scenario's the same," I said. "If we're in Mount Coronet, then Galactic has all three Lake Guardians. That means we need to reach the summit and pull them away from the Red Chain's influence whether our guards are dead, missing or not. That, uh, will prove a problem with how light the air gets up there. I'll have an oxygen mask, but you guys…"

Well, the ones I was mostly worried about were Honey and Princess, regarding needing to breathe despite Pokemon being more resilient. All the others would be fine on that front, with even Sweetheart's species having adapted to living high up in mountains. There must have been a way for psychics to solve that, but the fine control required was beyond us at the moment.

Sweetheart grumbled, asking why we couldn't just fly to the summit, recalling the horrid experience we'd had trying to escape Mount Coronet the first time we'd found her.

"Because even discounting the breathing issue, you can't find the summit while flying. Rules get wacky up there, and we'd just be going around in circles. The League agrees, we have to climb the mountain from the inside, as will Team Galactic." She growled, flashing teeth. "Don't be like that. The inside of a mountain is basically one the best places for you to fight."

She nodded, but she wasn't happy about it. The pressure was getting to her. The rock type had been… not in denial, but she'd ignored the fact that Galactic was capable of ending the world up until now, but it was hard to look the other way when the scenario was staring you in the face.

"Mimi?" I probed. "How about staying at the League for a couple days while everything goes down?"

The steel type's eye rolled, and they answered with a resounding no. It was a little tough to understand, but from the few things they'd heard about Mount Coronet's summit, it was somewhere they desperately wanted to see for themselves, and to be honest, I understood. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and was even more important for someone whose life goal was to travel and see unique things. What was at the world's tallest mountain summit? Why did Team Galactic need to go there, to summon Dialga and Palkia? What was its significance? All answers I was dying to have answered, and Mimi was no different. There was respect in Turtonator's eyes for sticking to ideals, but it vanished as soon as it had come.

"I get that," I gently said, walking up to Angel and the steel type. They slid down my arm as soon as I put my hand up. "I really do, but it'll be dangerous, and you're always outside your ball. Plus, it's scary, isn't it? You're scared of Sunshine when he looks at you, for Arceus' sake!"

Mimi crossed their arms and deflated a smidge, but Turtonator growled, saying that I shouldn't walk all over their ideals. If they want to come, they should. Honey yelled at him not to encourage them, but he facepalmed when Sweetheart agreed, saying that she'd do so to whatever he said and that her opinion shouldn't be counted.

Of course, she called him stinky next.

Before I could cut in to stave off whatever argument was going to start, Cass played some kind of cheery song from their catalogue, catching everyone's attention.

"Members of the Royal Court. It is unbecoming of you to stoop to a shouting match when so close to the world's doom."

"Uh, what they said!" I added. "And hey, we have two days left! So if you all ever wanted to do something, now's the time to bring it up."

The answers were… well, they were disappointingly boring. The same as usual— but bigger. Princess wanted to make a castle she could live in for a week, Buddy wanted to go through more books and branch into more topics than history, Sweetheart wanted to destroy Kingambit and beat him to the ground…

I pouted. "You guys suck. You know, usually people would say like, skydiving or something."

"It is unlikely you would be able to book a skydiving appointment within two days."

I threw my arms up. "That was just an example! And how did you even learn what that was?!"

"The Jester was telling me about wanting to go," Cassianus said, two eyes staring at Electivire. "They had to explain it in detail."

Of course, that triggered Tyranitar to whine and say that she wanted to go skydiving too, asking Princess to carry her in the sky immediately. The fairy type, with eyes that could kill, asked if this was some elaborate ploy to assassinate her.

I grinned, content to sink into the background and settled next to Sunshine.

Best we have our fun while we still can.

I sighed when noticing Mimi had wormed themselves out of staying alone at the League.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, yesnomaybeso, Sean M, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Tina M, Nova, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kolby, ShipGoSync, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Daruda, Mystic Corn, menirx, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Eric, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Matthew M, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, catfishdog, Onyx2409, ChairmanK--, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Dvn, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Elie, Serina T, Iepton, sqw4l, Nihilea, V4Ford, Micah T
 
Last edited:
Chapter 304 - Turning Point IV
CHAPTER 304 - TURNING POINT IV

Hi.

You know how this goes and what the title implies. Turning Point = trigger warning. Last time I put one of these a lot of people just didn't take it seriously/didn't see it, which is why I'm putting it IN the chapter this time, but again, expect something terrible to happen.




Candice's legs shook excitedly under her seat. Damn, this shrimp was good! And Nia said Snowpointers were awful at cooking! What were Eternians good for, huh? Berry pie? They shoved so many of them in there that you totally lost any of the taste from the individual fruits, so what was the point, then?

She wished she could have extended her lunch break by an hour, but then Alex would yell at her and write up a complaint to the League, since she wouldn't be doing her job properly. That little witch was trying to get her fired so she could take over. Candice snapped off half of her shrimp and grumbled. Just because she'd been to the Conference once didn't mean she had the potential to take over. Plus, this was a family business! She wasn't going to hand the Gym over to some punk just because she basically ran the Gym with a few of her cohorts these days…

Ahem.

With the trainer surge in Snowpoint, she barely had any free time, save for this single hour, and tomorrow was going to be a drag, since she'd need to go out and try to capture new critters in the evening after her shift was over, because she didn't have enough to keep up with the current demand and she'd put it off long enough. She was not going to get yelled at again. Usually, Gyms got the majority of their new Pokemon by buying them from breeders, but with them screwing up the Hunters, the efficiency of their breeding program had gone down by… um, there was a number she'd read in a report somewhere, but it had escaped her mind already. One of her Gym Trainers probably knew about it—

Oh.

Huh.

Tomorrow was most likely the Red Chain's completion.

Her mood cratered, sapping her of any of her energy— not that she had much left after battling so many kids in a row. Candice's brain was fried. She sprawled over her desk, shoving her head in shrimp. Her tongue licked up another piece and she chewed slowly while her mind settled down. She'd managed to put it in the corner of her mind for weeks, which was something she was very good at, but sometimes, she stepped on a land mine, bringing it back to the forefront of her thoughts all at once, and it was just so overwhelming.

Could she call one of her friends and bug them? Knowing Roark, he finished his lunch break early and was using the time to answer emails or deal with paperwork, that psycho. He was way too trigger-happy with the entire situation, too. Who the hell looked forward to murder that much? Obviously he hadn't said murder, but they all knew he wouldn't feel sad if there were a couple of 'accidents' that slipped in. Maymay looked up to Candice, so looking worried so close to tomorrow would only rattle her. Would Volkner answer the phone…? Probably not unless it was an emergency. Candice didn't want to bother any of the older Gym Leaders, either, and people at the League were busy.

"Guess it has to be Nia."

It was annoying to rely on her this much, but she didn't really have any other choice. Candice shoved the last three pieces of shrimp in her mouth and opened her window, sitting down on the windowsill as snow brushed against her skin and wind blew into her office. The cold hadn't bothered her in a long time, given that her team had been with her for years. She was still supposed to wear warm clothing, but she honestly couldn't be bothered and she hated the materials they were made of. Shorts were comfy.

"Candice," Gardenia instantly said. "I was wondering if you'd ever call. We haven't talked in like a week!"

"You fo realife dat—" she started choking on her food and struggled to get it down. "You do realize that I have hundreds of rabid children trying to get my badge, right? And that I'm running on like four hours of sleep. And that I have to actually work because I have one of my trainers trying to coup me!"

"Why don't you just fire her?"

"Because then I'd have to run the day-to-day at the Gym, and there's no way I can handle that on top of everything else." Candice punched the air. "She's made herself too useful!"

Nia laughed. "Leave it to you to somehow get into that situation, Candice. Maybe if Cynth fires you I'll hire you back as a Gym Trainer in mine."

"Then I'll only be allowed to use Abomasnow."

"You think I won't force you to use the same Gym Pokemon as everyone else? We run a tight ship over here, don't think I'll just let you off that easy."

"You know what, maybe Alex isn't so bad."

There was a beat of silence, and Candice looked out the window. Snowpoint was beautiful, and as always, was blanketed in snow. She wished for once that she could meet the domain holder around here like her grandmother had, but Cynthia had told her that she would just annoy her and get herself killed on the spot. 'Maybe when you mature a little more,' she'd said. Pfft. Snowpoint's port was always busy during the summer, with huge cargo ships going in and out of the place. She'd needed to negotiate with the workers there due to threat of a strike months ago… when Grace was here, if she remembered correctly. It would have been catastrophic for Snowpoint's economy after the winter and the city might have starved if they went on strike.

"Wanna talk about the Mamoswine in the room?" Nia asked.

"It was kind of why I was calling."

"Yes, I knew that already, you always—"

"I'm gonna give you frostbite the next time we see each other if you finish that sentence."

"Feeling under the weather, then?"

"Hmhm, a little. I just… remembered it suddenly, and now I don't know if I'll be able to give it my all during my shift today," Candice quietly said. "I bet the trainers would be happy if they got an easy badge from me, though."

"I'm pretty sure that might actually get you at least suspended. Don't you have to fight some first-year for their eighth badge later today?"

"Meh. I looked at their team and they were cool. Poison and dark type specialist that's been making the rounds a little, and I have a sick plan to ruin their day, but… yeah, I'm gonna have to pull it together, aren't I? Can't let one of my trainers do that battle."

"You can tell them to do the other ones, though. Sure, they'll think less of you, but you need to be in top form."

"I don't think they can actually think less of me. I'm a horrible boss— or you could see me as an awesome boss with quirks that people don't like."

"No one says that last bit," Gardenia chuckled. "To be honest, I doubt Cynthia's even reading the complaint emails. Probably has some poor intern on the job who's taking the entire thing way too seriously because they're scared to anger her."

Candice snorted. "You ever see her angry?"

"Cynth? Nope, just tired or exasperated like everyone else," she said.

"Think she'd be like, silent angry like your Mom? Or do you think she'd blow up and have Garchomp slice through a mountain?"

"I can't imagine Cynthia screaming, ever."

"I kind of want to goad her into it now," Candice snickered. "Do you think that if I'm missing for Renewal Day, she'll yell at me when she finds me?"

"I think she'd look at you with that disappointing thing she does. You know, when she flicks her eyes up for a fraction of a second?"

"Only you catch stuff like that, Nia."

"Yeah, I guess… hey, listen. Uh, when this is all over I have something to tell you that's been on my mind for years, and—"

There was a sound, like a door flinging open. There was another voice at the end of the line— Roland, her stupid best friend and second in command. Candice couldn't make out his words, though, just a lot of shouting and panicking.

"Candice— Candice I have to go!"

"Nia? What's going on?"

Then, light.

Candice turned her head.

Her eyes widened, and her breath caught in her throat.

Snowpoint's port was—



Thirteen minutes ago.

Cass hovered behind me and Justin as we walked at a brisk pace toward the Canalave library. With a day left until things went to crap, it had been his idea to pick up some more books for anyone who'd wanted to keep their mind off things and hand back the ones I'd grabbed for Jellicent, since he had devoured them in mere hours. Personally, I figured that part could have waited, but since he wanted to get out at all costs, I wasn't about to have him go alone when Galactic might strike early. Our pace had begun slowly, but had now turned brisk for whatever reason, and it felt good to be able to keep up with him with my ankle having almost healed completely. I scrolled through Chatter and spoke to Cassianus to pass the time, having learned that Justin liked the quiet. It was when we stopped at a red light, that he first spoke.

"You know," he whispered, "the truth about this outing was that I needed some fresh air… away from all the planning. So I lied."

My lips pressed together. "Oh. Uh, that's okay. I'm happy you're comfortable enough to tell me that."

His tone sped up. "It's just that everyone's been so busy preparing for everything, and I've just been sitting there. Scared when I think about it for too long, but still feeling inadequate. Like I'm not doing enough despite having the power to do so."

The light turned green, and we crossed the street. "There's no shame in hanging back. What you're feeling is… peer pressure. Seeing everyone do something makes you feel like you should, but that's not true, is it?"

"I don't know."

"It isn't," I confirmed, my tone firm. "We went over this, right? It's okay." I linked our arms together and slowed down. "In a few days, this'll be over. Like a bad dream."

His jaw clenched. "Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" he said before pausing. "Sorry, that was uncalled for. I'm just on edge."

I shot down the need to ask him if he wanted me to fix him like I'd put Louis back together. He'd come back multiple times to see me, asking if I could fix his anxiety again as the day approached, but stopped when I told him I had an addiction problem. It hadn't been the plan, at first, but at the time, my two options had either been blurt that out, or say yes, and I'd nearly said the latter, given that I'd been alone at the time and Jellicent wouldn't have been able to stop me.

"I guess Louis feels the same way, huh?"

That remained unanswered, and the way I noticed his face shift into a neutral one meant that he was back to usual. "Maeve wanted a book on human anatomy and as many Pokemon anatomy we could find. Pauline said your chemistry and physics book was too basic, so she wanted another advanced one so she could figure out if she could work with Charizard and Gothitelle…"

"I'll take a look at the anatomy ones too," I said.

He glanced my way. "Denzel wanted to see if we could find books with information about Mount Coronet. That's it."

"Sounds good."

"For how boundless the internet seems to be, it's a wonder these things are still more detailed on paper," Cass said.

"...have you been looking at things online, Cassianus?"

"Query unrecognized. Please try again later."

"Oh, I know you recognized it!" I yelled with a grin. "It's fine, by the way, just don't believe everything you read on there just because it's new stuff."

The Canalave Library came into view soon enough, and since the day of the Sailors' Return was today, everyone was off work and the place was basically full. It was odd to see the library without any decorations when we couldn't go five steps out on the streets without seeing flags with embroidered water types on them, or signs with words and poems about returning from a long voyage at sea. There was nothing but some grey balloons attached to chairs or weighed down on top of bookcases. I had to stop Cass from asking people to make way for the King as soon as we had to stop in front of a small group of people, because according to them, the rules of being quiet in a library were lesser than allowing me to go wherever I pleased. They'd be a horrible patron anywhere.

We took the stairs to the second floor, since we didn't expect the elevator would ever be free and Claydol couldn't squeeze past the entrance anyway. Biology was on the third floor, and information about Mount Coronet would be on the fifth. I filed through the hall, running a finger over the books until I found what we wanted. There were actually too many books on Pokemon anatomy, though these were mostly about common ones people could find like Shinx, Bidoof, or Lillipup. Not that we were expecting Galactic grunts to have any dragon types anyway, given that every time they'd been fought, the majority of them had owned easy-to-access Pokemon.

"We can't grab all of these, can we? I mean, our bags aren't big enough for everything."

"Wait, is that… the new book on Pokemon Care?" Justin whispered.

He scurried to the side while I waited for him at the end of the aisle and flipped through the pages of this book, looking at the inside of a human body.

"'Complete Pokemon Care Manual - All Types'," he listed, smile slowly rising. "I mean, I know not every type of Pokemon is going to be the same, but it goes in-depth with the basics. This would be great for Louis' sanctuary, don't you think?"

I looked up at him and gawked at the thickness of the book. It must have been eight hundred pages at least.

"Is it new?" I asked.

"It was written by a few of the Hunters from Solaceon who wanted to pass on the knowledge they'd gotten taking care of so many Pokemon for so many years," he smiled. "So technically, our actions there made this book come to be."

"Sure, grab it. Checking out books is free anyway, and I think it'll cheer him up some—"

My ears popped.

The world around me burned, swallowed by a cacophony of explosions and fire. The air grew thick with dust, fragments of wood and dense smoke. I flinched, closing my eyes and dropping my books, expecting my entire body to be burned to ashes, but none of that came. Instead, sound around me died, save for the ringing in my ears, and the temperature returned to normal. My clothes were soaked with sweat and my body ached, but I was alive. The metal around my wrist froze in place.

I opened my eyes again.

What just happened?

I couldn't see a foot in front of me. Cass had erected a barrier around us and there was an Indeedee here as well who had appeared from nowhere. The air reeked of burning pages and the sickly-sweet scent of charred wood. The walls trembled as the fire consumed the shelves, and the heat pressed against the barrier like an invisible force. To my left, the floor collapsed, swallowing a chunk of a broken bookshelf as it tumbled to a lower floor.

Still, I couldn't hear anything. There was only trembling breath, the shaking of my feet against the intact ground under me, shoes squeaking against the slick tiles, and the ringing in my ears. Chest rising and lowering slowly, fingers trembling and teeth chattering. What is happening?

From the second explosion billowed darkness that was blacker than pitch, only seconds later, smothering some of the fire but rattling Claydol some. Indeedee held firm, however, her eyes glowing against the void. It was only as these next few seconds passed that I gathered my bearings enough to have a single thought.

Justin.

I couldn't see him, with the darkness, fire, debris and smoke— Justin! I had to see if he was safe. This Indeedee— it probably belonged to my newest ACE Trainer who had replaced Lou.

I spoke, but I couldn't hear my own words, reminding me of the time Sunshine had damaged my hearing when I'd first caught him. It was only then that I realized Cass had been speaking into my mind all along, but I'd been in too much shock to respond. It was so haunting, to see all of this destruction, this burning, but to be unable to hear any of it because of the barrier.

It would be unwise to move. Your trainers are still assessing the situation, and I am afraid we will not be able to Teleport out of the building, Indeedee said, her voice crisp in my head.

I frowned, screaming that he was right there in front of us! I tried to grab at the psychic's shoulders to shake her, but instead, my body froze where I stood.

Goodness, do you want to die? she said. I am listening to orders. I'm sorry if this isn't what you want, but reinforcements will be arriving shortly as soon as the library is cleared. Indeedee paused. Or what remains of it.

The minutes passed agonizingly slowly, and my hearing slowly returned while a pit started to form in my stomach. He was fine, he had to be. The grip around me loosened, and I stood there, eyes staring into the distance where he'd stood seconds earlier, holding up a book with a smile on his face.

There was a way to figure out if he was fine.

My empathy.

I closed my eyes, and the world screamed. Emotions shone brightly through the smoke and flames, even if they were somewhat dimmed due to the dark type energy swirling about.

As I gazed through the translucent barrier erected by Claydol and Indeedee, emotions unleashed like a torrent of anguish, and the hues painted a heartbreaking masterpiece of collective suffering. The pain was palpable, a searing heat coating my brain that mirrored the physical flames consuming the library's walls. I clenched at my head and ignored the emotions trying to worm their way into me and focused on this aisle.

There was nothing.

Nothing.

Was he…

No. The darkness was fucking with my empathy like it had during the tests It had done at Lake Verity, and there was so much more of it now, and it was making it difficult to focus. Or maybe he'd managed to run through the fire— the explosion had been closer to me than it had him. He'd be burned if he had, but the ACEs must have picked him up—

There, Indeedee said with a sigh.

A neon green wind swept through the floor, eliminating the darkness in one fell swoop, and water fell around us from a Pelipper flying in the distance, smothering the flames in our vicinity. I had not seen Maxwell in what felt like ages, but he looked the same as always, save for his missing hand. His dark hair was full of ash and wood splinters, and after his mouth moved, Indeedee put down the barrier. The heat hit me like a truck, as did the sound of burning and collapsing wood. There were sirens outside, both from the police and fire trucks.

And screams.

So many screams.

Gothitelle's words rang in my mind. Fire. My vision swam, and I realized my throat felt so terribly dry as I struggled to stay up.

"Building's been cleared. No enemy forces present, and the darkness isn't being sustained," Maxwell said. His voice was still distant, even if he was standing right here. I could barely hear out of my left ear. "Recall your Claydol and Meltan."

In a daze, I followed his instructions.

"Indeedee, get her out of here."

"Wait, Justin—"

"Playtime's over, Ms. Pastel," he grimly spoke. "We're in charge."

I was gone.

Teleported to what looked like a bunker, though somehow Indeedee hadn't followed me here. The walls were solid concrete, and a low hum resonated through the space, emanating from vents hanging on the ceiling. Lights flickered overhead, and I took a deep breath, inhaling the stale air. Everyone was here. Cecilia rushed toward me as soon as I made it, hugging me even though my body was covered in ash and soot.

"Thank the Legendaries," she gasped, her hands wound tightly around me.

"Where where are we?"

"The League until further notice," Chase said. "The entire region just went to shit, Grace."

The rest of my friends greeted me, though the mood was obviously somber. Louis was pale, sitting on a green couch laid against one of the walls of the room. Maeve was in a corner of the room, giving a pep talk to her Pokemon. Pauline was quietly on the phone with who I assumed to be her mother while Emilia could only stare at the floor, though it was not in a helpless, traumatized manner like Louis. She was preparing herself for what was to come.

"Where's Justin?" Denzel asked.

I'm going to vomit.

"I don't know," I forced out. "We were in the library together, but… I think he was hurt."

The room was silent, but the sheer pain going through our faces was impossible to miss.

"He's probably at the hospital, I think," I added. "You know, the explosion wasn't as big where he was standing, and by the time I was Teleported out the authorities were already here. And my ACEs are there, too. He should behe should be fine."

"I… see," Cece said, letting go of me.

Louis exhaled, his body sagging. "Oh, thank Arceus."

"Do we— can we get any news about what's going on?" Emilia stuttered with a hoarse voice.

Denzel shifted uncomfortably. "We should ask about Justin. There's a button we can press if we need anything, but it might take a while for them to get to us since I assume the League is on lockdown—"

"Denzel, please," she begged, looking into his eyes with a thousand-yard stare. "I— just, please."

"It'd be best if we don't bother them," I quickly agreed. "Justin is okay."

My best friend looked at Chase, then at Cecilia, but she gave a half nod that felt fake. Why didn't they believe me? I wanted to ask, but now wasn't the time. Not now. Later. Yeah. He was okay. It would be better to focus on what we could learn for now.

Denzel scrolled through his phone, updating us on what had happened. Apparently every city in Sinnoh had been bombed, with major landmarks and monuments having been the main target. The Canalave Library, the Hearthome Contest Hall, the Sunyshore Mall and Boardwalk, Oreburgh's Fossil Museum, Snowpoint's port… the list went on and on until Mira asked him to stop.

"Just stop," she repeated. "We get it, the entire region's been fucking bombed. You're just bringing the mood down for no reason, we don't need to know the specifics."

"Oh. Sorry," he muttered. I'd never heard him speak like this. It was like he was trying to keep himself from crying when he'd been fine just earlier. Barely keeping himself together.

"The specifics of this are actually very important," Pauline said, having now hung up from her mother. "These were all picked to kill as many people as possible. Mommy says Hearthome's in chaos. The library wasn't the only explosion in Canalave, either, I saw another bomb go off from my Pokemon Center window."

Mira grabbed her own arm, almost like a self-hug. "I… I know, but it's… just slow down."

"I can't, and I'm sorry." His face twisted into a pitying grimace, and he kept scrolling. "No news of a bombing in Twinleaf, Grace. I think it wasn't important enough to bomb for them."

My heart dropped. "My Dad—"

"Is fine," Mira said. "I'm close with Carlos and he checked on the building, it wasn't bombed. You better send your parents a text to tell them you're okay."

I nodded, but the relief I'd expected to come never came with Justin gnawing at the head of my mind. While I did so, the conversation continued.

"How the hell did the League miss this?" Louis asked, his voice straining. His hands were clenched atop his lap, wound together so tightly they were white. "This is… awful."

"You can't expect them to have every building guarded up, especially when a lot of their forces are holed up in Veilstone, the Lakes and Mount Coronet," Cecilia said. I saw her wipe a tear out the corner of her eye, but they… kept coming. "I— I'm sorry, I need to go to the bathroom."

Sobs accompanied her retreat, and when I tried to follow her, Chase called out to me.

"Let her be for a second," he said.

"She needs me—"

"You're not in the right… headspace right now," he interrupted.

I took a step forward. "What does that fucking mean, Chase?"

"Let's focus on what's important," he said.

"No. Tell me what it fucking means," I spat, getting up in his face. "Tell. me."

"Williams? Any help?"

"Let's, uh, stay on topic," Denzel continued. "The League was stretched thin, and I assume the shit security these buildings have— if they have any, wasn't enough to catch the bombs. Only Veilstone was spared of any bombings—"

"Stop ignoring me."

All faces turned toward me.

"If you have something to say, then say it," I said.

Denzel approached, trying to put a hand over my shoulder, but I slapped it away. "Say it."

"You, Emilia, Louis," Chase said. "You're in denial. We saw footage of the Canalave Library, and half of that building is collapsed—"

Emi rose from her seat. "No, fuck off with that," she screamed, pointing at him. "You have no right, Chase. We don't know, okay? We don't know if he's dead, so you trying to be all fucking macho and uncaring, trying to act like we do know, it's getting on my damn nerves."

"Grace was there," Louis said as he gripped the side of his couch. "I think she would know more than you."

"Then we could just ask, couldn't we?" Chase frowned.

"Not now. Not when they need every person out there," I said. "Plus, they might not know, with all the confusion and stuff."

"Come on!" he barked. "You're just fucking scared! You know damn well that makes no sense—"

"Just be fucking human for once," Emilia said. "Just let us have this," she sobbed. "Please."

There was a flash of red as Maeve recalled her team. "It wouldn't hurt to believe in the best-case scenario until proven otherwise, wouldn't it?" Her stone-cold exterior cracked for a second, and it would take a while to come back up.

I stood firm. "It won't be proven otherwise. He's hurt, no doubt, but I didn't— there was nothing there."

There was a pause.

"I thought they were all holed up like Rattata in Veilstone," Chase said.

"Evidently, they had people left out here who never got on the League's radar," Mira groaned. "Not even fighters, either."

"Why would they even do this?" Pauline asked. Her face was pale, and just like Emilia, she struggled to sit still now. There was a back-and-forth motion to her body, like she was comforting her own self. "What's the point in all of this death?"

"They occupy the Gym Leaders and pull from League forces, maybe?" Denzel said. His eyes were wet, but he was holding it together. "I don't think Cynthia would even pull out that many troops, but anything helps when Galactic is at a disadvantage."

"Cynthia would let the entire region burn to smithereens before weakening her position," I said. "This is a fool's errand."

"Then to the public, she looks like she's fooling around," Chase said. "You know what that means, right?"

"Doesn't matter how strong she is, she's out of power as soon as this is done," Emilia spoke under her breath. "She'll be too unpopular. Her legacy will be ruined. Shit."

"She's not the kind of woman to care about that," I said.

"Okay. That bodes well, then," Louis nodded.

"How's the rest of the world reacting?" Mira asked.

"Everyone reacted fast. Condemnation at the attacks and condolences from every country, even Galar." Denzel frowned at his phone. "Indigo's already pledging to give money to help with the rebuilding, and there's talk of loosening the sanctions from Galar… not much else, though. It's too recent."

I sighed. "Any information about the Gym Leaders—"

There was a louder sob from the bathroom, and the room went quiet.

"I'm going."

This time, no one stopped me. Instead, they returned to talking about the situation, and I heard of a casualty toll in the thousands before I was out of reach.

That number would still be ticking up throughout the coming days.

I bit the inside of my lip hard enough to taste metal.

The bunker itself was arranged more like a hotel room than what I'd expected from a place like this, except larger, save for a few bits like the old lights. Hell, there was even artwork on the walls that I would have looked at, had I not been in a hurry. I passed by a main chamber holding rows of sturdy metal shelves, each stocked with neatly organized supplies—canned goods, water containers, medical kits, and other essentials.

After knocking, I put my ear to the door, but remembered that I'd lost my hearing in this one. There was still a subtle ring to it in the background, but it wasn't like I could do anything about it. I put the other ear to the door and heard crying.

"Cece?"

There was a startled, choking sound, and the cries stopped. "I'll be out in a minute," she said after a pause. "I just need to… I need to…"

"Can I come in—"

"Yes please."

I tried opening the door, which she'd evidently forgotten she had locked, and she opened it from the inside. Cecilia was a mess. Her hair was frazzled and her face was full of tears and snot. I crouched and wrapped my hands around her, and she cried on my shoulder.

"We'll be okay," I whispered. "Justin will be okay."

"I don't know, Grace," she sobbed. "I've known him since we were kids. We'd see each other at these horrible get-togethers when I'd come to Sinnoh… I don't know. I'm trying to put it all in a box, but it's not working, Grace. I can't— it feels like I'm missing a part of myself that I'll never get back."

I loosened the hug and looked into her eyes, ignoring the knot in my throat. "He'll be fine. He is fine. We'll visit him when this is all over, okay? I promise."

Cecilia nodded in silence, her body leaning against mine. "Hold me."

She was warm. For a second, I imagined her lying dead, a charred corpse at my feet from one of the bombs, and I stopped moving while her breath trembled and her chest rose and fell.

"I love you," I whispered. "We'll make it through this."

"I'm sorry. Usually I can do this," she murmured. I could feel her breath on my ear. "Usually I'm strong enough to pull through, and I'm the one you can rely on, but when I imagined him dead, it was…"

"He's alive."

There was a pause for a few seconds.

"Let's not ask, though," she said.

"Yes. They're busy."

"But if he isthat."

Dead, she meant. My body flinched like it had been struck. He wasn't, because that would mean he had died on my watch. He was alive.

"Then I will kill every Team Galactic member I come across," she said, her voice steadfast and sharp like iron. "And I will look the other way if anyone does the same. This is an emergency, after all."

She'd put it all in a box now.

I let her rise, and watched her wash her face.

"I'm gonna wash the ash off my face too," I said. "I'll be out in a minute."

She nodded. "Thank you, love. For being here."

Cece outstretched her hand, and I grabbed it. We held still for a moment, hands clasped tight.

Then, she left, closing the door behind her.

The plastic gloves came slowly out of my bag.

I wrapped them around my hands and found a bathing glove to smoothen the process.

I turned on the faucet. The sound of the water splashing against the sink felt like static noise.

I wet my hands, rubbing my face. It came out brown and grey as it circled around the sink.

I let my hand hover over the faucet, but it trembled when I tried to turn off the water.

I looked up at the mirror.

Clothes covered in ash and smoke, hair singed at its edges by the first micro-second of the explosion. Arm and body scarred by cuts and burns.

A blank stare, head and body utterly still, save for my nose flaring with every deepening breath. Eyes wide open. My ears rang again, but there was no explosion.

They just kept ringing.

And ringing.

And ringing.

I stared at myself once more. My hands gripped the wet ceramic. My face tightened. My shoulders broadened.

I barely look human. Something itches under my skin.

But despite everything.

It's still you.


I turned off the tap and tied my hair up.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, yesnomaybeso, Sean M, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Tina M, Nova, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kolby, ShipGoSync, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Daruda, Mystic Corn, menirx, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Eric, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Matthew M, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, catfishdog, Onyx2409, ChairmanK--, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Dvn, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Elie, Serina T, Iepton, sqw4l, Nihilea, V4Ford, Micah T, L'iien
 
Last edited:
Interlude - Broken Things
As always, trigger warning. Expect bad things, violence, etc.

INTERLUDE - BROKEN THINGS

The thing shivers, hugging itself as its breath twists in front of it, turning to mist as it wished it to be the week-end already. Today is a day like any other, and it does not feel particularly excited about it. It is a monster borne out of banality.

Jupiter stared at her burner phone and whined. "I'm freezing my tits off here! Can we just go already?" She hopped from one foot to the other, her white boots burying themselves deep in the snow. "You'd think these uniforms would be better than this. I really should have written up a complaint… guh!" she groaned when Tangrowth slapped her on the back with a loud gurgle, probably telling her to stop complaining.

Charon grunted. "Your Tangrowth is right, for once. The time will soon come to strike."

"You'd think we'd have gotten more than thirty minutes before the League busted in after deactivating the dark emitters," Jupiter said.

"We knew that they would find us as soon as we did. And we got the majority of our people out regardless, far more than we expected. I supposed the bombings were good for that, at least."

"Doesn't mean I can't complain about it," she smiled. A gust of wind blew past her and she leaned against her Tangrowth, who sighed at the sudden contact. Despite that, though, he didn't push her away. She'd play ball with him later as a thanks.

Adrianna would be lying if she said she wouldn't miss their base. Underground rooms spread all throughout the city deep enough to be invisible to all empaths, only possible to navigate with the Teleporters they'd set up after Charon reproduced the tech they'd stolen from the power plant at Valley Windworks. Then, there were the dark emitters that Abel had helped improve so they were hidden from view, just in case. The old man was depressing to be around when she wasn't in the right mood, but he was a genius at incorporating TE into human technology and somehow had made it all work with his team of scientists— granted, the majority of them had probably been arrested or killed by now. That was fine, given that they didn't know the plan. No one but the Commanders did. If the League had caught one part of the base, it would instantly have gotten cut off from the rest, like amputating a limb undergoing necrosis. There were deadman switches set up for it to blow as well, but they'd had to take those explosives away for obvious reasons, now.

Behind her, one thousand and five hundred grunts stood at attention, all in their galactic uniforms. They had to be, on a day so important. Eyes set forward without a single movement or word, and Pokeballs at their belt. Saturn had done well to drill and train them into a veritable force, teaching them the art of tactics, teamwork and all of that yawn-inducing jazz. Jupiter had basically been quiet quitting for the last few months anyway since they'd had no more money to play with and hadn't really been paying attention. The bombs had been a great idea of hers, but they'd run out of material soon enough and had to resort to Pokemon using Self-Destruct at maximum capacity.

Which meant that non-ghosts had no doubt died permanently in their efforts, but humans weren't the only ones who had bought into the cult. The Pokemon had, too, and they expected to be reborn in a utopia without strife. Some of them had been good enough to mix darkness in to make the flames harder to extinguish and delay any efforts to Teleport in or out as well, though those were rarer than most.

Legendaries, she was bored.

Jupiter sometimes liked to pass the time by looking at the grunts' faces. These were the best and the brightest Cyrus had selected to bring into his new world, after all, so she figured that she might as well see what he'd seen in them other than a lot of them were creepy as hell.

Of course, the answer was obviously loyalty, fervor, shedding the fear of death, et cetera et cetera, but where was the fun in not pretending you didn't know the answers? There were the ones who had killed off their emotions and just wanted to commit to their duty, the ones who were fanatics who'd be proud to die for Cyrus' cause and knew that he would bring them back after creating his new world. Those who couldn't help but smile or laugh at the prospect of being so close to bliss that they could nearly taste it.

Or at least, that was what was promised.

Sometimes you had a mix of all of them, really. They were kind of boring, if again, not creepy enough to give her the jitters. There were some gems hidden beneath, though. People unique to shine through and catch her attention.

The girl closest to her, for example. Young, blonde, average height and green eyes— pretending to look like she wasn't terrified, but doing a terrible job at it. She was one of Mars', though Cyrus had assigned her to Jupiter's command instead so the other Commander wouldn't get distracted down south. She'd been tormented for months due to her resemblance to Grace Pastel, and Mars had even put scars in the right place, too. Burned the side of her face and body, cut deep into her arm and added a few of the shallow ones that were missable to the naked eye. Poor girl was barely hanging by a thread, but she wanted to live, so she'd try her best anyway.

Adrianna felt bad, though not enough to actually do anything about it, and she knew it was wrong. She had to be responsible, though, and so it was in her interest to soothe the girl's worries so she and her Pokemon lasted as long as possible in the coming battle. Her Musharna was among their best barrier users, after all, and could put a wide range of people to sleep with a single look.

She turned toward her. "Girl— what's your name?"

"G—Grace Pastel the fourth, Commander."

Oh, there'd been four of her? Where the hell had Mars hidden the rest? Jupiter wanted to frown— no, that was wrong. She figured a normal response to this information would be to frown, though her body didn't follow suit. You could really never know, with that kid.

"I mean your real name," Jupiter smiled, patting her on the shoulder. "You can tell me, nothing will happen to you."

For a moment, she looked around at her cohorts, who ignored her, given that they were barely people anymore. Then, to Charon and Adrianna. She probably thought this was a trap, but she'd be stupid to think she had been fooling anyone. The only reason she was still here and not dead or in some League jail cell was because Mars had taken a liking to her and Cyrus knew he needed to keep her fellow Commander loyal by giving her something to chew on, be it new toys or a fraction of his attention for a minute or two every few weeks. She figured he was already heading toward Mount Coronet with his elite team, given that he hadn't been Teleported out of their base. The people accompanying him were their strongest grunts, on the level of… well, Jupiter had never really been great at estimating power, but she supposed the average kid would try to slot them in terms of badge level.

"Clara…" the meek girl finally answered.

"Clara! That's a pretty name," Jupiter gently said. She wrapped an arm around the girl and whispered in her ear. "Listen, you've been through a lot, haven't you?"

Charon brought up a long-range walkie-talkie-type thingie to his mouth, and a gruff voice came through, interrupting the two. His Porygon Z was extending their range of communication region-wide with the help of his Rotom, who was inside the device in a dormant state. That wasn't the most surprising bit, though. It was his own voice, he was talking to.

"Second wave of bombings came through with a forty-seven percent success rate instead of ninety-eight," he said. "Looks like they caught on fast. The third wave is most likely going to peter out completely."

"Charon, Clara and I having a moment," Adrianna sighed.

His eye twitched. "On this momentous day, you—"

"Charon, it's Friday," she rolled her eyes. "Be a good boss and let her half-ass her job for a while. Her shift is almost over."

He wanted to talk back, but Tangrowth threw some snow in his face, and that was that. Would have been funny if it broke his glasses, too. The grass type had grabbed on older, deeper snow that hugged the side of trees. The kind of frost that was horrible to get hit by and that had your car skidding in the mornings, forcing you to drive excruciatingly slowly while a crazy fucker honked behind you, as if they weren't in the same boat and both late for work.

"It's… Monday," Clara said.

"Think about it like a metaphor," Jupiter explained, her hands outstretched as if she was showing something off. "This year was like an entire week where your boss has you work overtime every day to finish a project that you have nowhere near enough time to complete. You're working your ass off, sleeping at the office and your colleagues are incompetent." She stopped, and for a moment, she was back to fifteen years ago.

Tired. Alone. Cold. Living life in a daze, coming home to a small, dark apartment at the end of it all. It had started slowly, at first. She'd slept through her five alarms and would be late for her presentation. Then she'd driven over the speed limit and gotten stopped by cops, arriving nearly half an hour late with her superiors only waiting for her.

Then she realized she hadn't saved her slides. She'd been too tired and closed the app without it, and back then, there was no auto-save feature. She'd embarrassed herself in front of all of the company, but it wasn't that, which broke her.

No, it was when Sarah Nash used Adrianna's mistakes as a way to push her out of leading the Party Planning Committee.

The only thing she had ever enjoyed.

The world had collapsed under her feet.

But she decided to break herself instead— twist herself with her Skitty's help until she could live instead of ending it all.

Fuck you, Sarah Nash, Jupiter smiled. She still worked in that very same place in Snowpoint, which had conveniently been targeted by one of her bombs. Petty office politics might have been something she hated, but it was also her lifeblood.

So yes, she had murdered someone for it fifteen years later. And maybe she wanted to end this world in large part because of Sarah Nash. Sue her!

Jupiter continued. "But today is Friday, Clara. This is our endgame. It's like you're looking at the time, and it's so close to five in the evening. People are starting to pack their stuff all around you and your boss has already left for the day, right? You're almost there, so you only have to push through and you'll be reborn."

The teenager nodded. "Thank you. Um, it's a little confusing, but it helps."

"Nothing confusing about it. Just look forward to the week-end. Away from your boss."

There, that ought to have done it. Clara was standing a little straighter now, and her fears had been alleviated some. People were so interesting sometimes. Thank the Legendaries, too, because otherwise, she would have died of boredom long ago. She was no Mars, but Jupiter liked to see what made people tick sometimes. How they would react to her, depending on how she acted.

"No movements from the Lakes?" she asked Charon.

"None that we can see. There hasn't been a significant increase in League Trainers in cities, so if I had to guess, they're hunkering down—" there was a coughing fit, dry until he spat a glob of spit and blood in the snow. "The good news is, the Gym Leaders are helping, so that's people we won't have to worry about."

"They could Teleport in."

The scientist facepalmed. "If they Teleport in after we attack, that means we can Teleport in as well. They'll have dark types swarming the place to prevent that."

"And if they do come anyway? That Candice is within distance to fly here."

"Then that's what you're here for, Jupiter," Charon said. "You kill her."

Adrianna sighed. "Killing an ice type specialist in her element? That is so much work, man."

Was it too late for a change of career?

"Hang on tight. We will be starting soon," Charon said.

"Guess it just has to be done."



The thing grins, a twisted and broken grimace so tightly wound that it strains its face. Today is the best day of its life, the apex of its existence. Everything had led to this. It is a monster borne out of loyalty and vanity.

The sun shines brightly on Saturn's face.

His joy bubbled up like a twisted carnival inside him. The laughter that spilled out felt unhinged, a rollercoaster ride careening towards madness. The world seemed so colorful today, so vibrant. Had trees always been so beautiful? The way the bark careened and twisted itself into branches, the way dew from last night's rain hung to their leaves. The way the smell of grass permeated through his nostrils. Oh, the softness of the mud against his boots!

Saturn moaned, his hands rubbing his neck as he squirmed in place.

Today was such a beautiful day! It was a peculiar sort of happiness only Saturn could comprehend, because only he and Cyrus saw how ugly the world was. How if you peeled at the surface, horrors would reveal themselves to you, the unfairness, the sheer arrogance of it all. Faces that contorted with expressions that reeked of insincerity, a masquerade of pretense that sickened him. Buildings that stood as monuments to humanity's imperious aspirations, cold and indifferent structures in a world devoid of genuine warmth. The air itself was always rancid, polluted not by industry, for Saturn could not care less about that, but by the faults of human nature. It had him nauseous on the best of days, but it had been long since he had walked in a city.

No one else but Cyrus understood. Not even his 'fellow' Commanders, if he could even see them as equals. For Jupiter, this was a way to pass the time. For Mars, it was a game, and for Charon, it was a deep desire to see his dead little sister, who Saturn had no doubt was just as deranged and insincere as the rest of humanity. They didn't see the artistry in it. The fact that they were rebuilding the universe from zero.

"The second bombing had a success rate of forty-seven percent," Charon said.

His body was a distorted one, flickering in the light. A hologram AI projected by his Porygon. Saturn knew that once, Charon had tried to recreate his deceased sister as an artificial intelligence, but failed to capture what truly made her, her. This was the same case. He was Charon, but subtly not. It did not matter, though, so long as he kept him informed of what was happening around the region. They were a few miles away from the Lake with one thousand one hundred and fifty-six grunts in tow, hidden off-route and under the cover of a forest so the League's scouts would have difficulty catching them without a psychic capable of sensing them. Bringin them to this location had been a hassle of logistics, with having to use hundreds of psychics with linked minds to make it happen. Even then, some grunts had been… lost in the transit. Nevertheless, Saturn had theorized that they would hole into their Lakes like rats, so terrified of losing even one of these so-called Guardians.

Because if they lost a single one,

Their chances grew significantly lower. Using a Legend's full power was, according to Charon and his team, off the table with a chain this incomplete, but this was Mesprit's gems they had used, so they still banked on the fact that capturing it would leave way to at least subtle use of its capabilities. Enough to turn the tide, at the very least, and enough to hopefully use barriers and Teleport, because there was no way they would ever be given enough time for all their psychics to whisk them away again, especially when they'd be tired. Of course, they didn't have the chain with them, but they had to act like they did, and get close enough to instantly take control of the Legends when they did get access to the chain.

Not that Saturn expected the League to win. They were why the world was so ugly. The rigidness of life, the way they had tried to keep him on a straight and narrow path. Go to school, turn fifteen, be a trainer for a few years and get some badges, fail to make it a career, retire and get a normal job, find a partner, get married, have children, slave away until you die—

No. He couldn't. Every day of his life, something had felt wrong. Like an itch he couldn't scratch, or subtle shapes at the edge of his vision he couldn't make out. He had been lost, convinced that he was the one who had been born wrong until he met Cyrus.

And together, they would cleanse the world of this.

"Saturn?" Charon probed.

"Excellent news!" Saturn beamed, his smile widening further. "The world will soon be cleansed of all that is ugly, Charon."

He took a while to answer. "Stay put. We will be starting soon."

The man nodded, barely able to contain his excitement. What would life be like, in their new world? Would it always be as beautiful as it is today? More beautiful? Was that even possible? He closed his eyes and tried to imagine it, just for an instant. Oh, the sheer freedom he felt in that moment was enough to shiver in excitement.

But he had a job to do.

"Marcus."

One of his grunts stepped forward, handing him a megaphone. Saturn released his Exploud, who looked just as gleeful for the day their sacred Cyrus had wrought. The normal type closed his large mouth, and the world stirred, containing the sound of Saturn's voice to the vicinity so they wouldn't be heard. The Commander turned to face his army. For years, he had drilled them. Turned them into the best they could be. While the other members— the ones not selected to get into their new world— sacrificed themselves to bring success to Team Galactic, he had trained the people in front of him, keeping them safe. These, along with the other troops assaulting the Lake and the ones currently with Cyrus, were the only ones left. Team Galactic's elite troops, most of them ready to go toe to toe with the average League soldier, trained in their tactics and formations.

It would not be enough. They didn't have the numbers or the experience for this fight, but they had dedication to the cause.

And they did not need to win. Just to get close enough for a loss not to matter.

Saturn inhaled.

"ATTENTION!"

The grunts stomped their foot twice on the ground and saluted as one.

"Today, we take the first step in the creation of our new world!" Saturn declared. "In just a few minutes, the assault on Lake Valor will begin. I will not lie to you, my fellow soldiers. If Cynthia Collins is at this Lake, the odds of us succeeding is zero."

He let the words settle in for a moment. There was still no weakness in their eyes, or at least any he could see. Good.

"But even if this assault is a loss," he began again, "even if we are all slaughtered by her and her Elite Four, we will prevail!" Saturn yelled, raising a fist to the air. "We will buy enough time for our plan to come to fruition. Do not fear death, for that is just a temporary state of being! Throw yourselves into battle! If all of your Pokemon are killed, then pick up a stone and smash it in a soldier's head! Gouge his eyes with your fingers, bite off his skin, fight! I don't want to hear 'I am holding my position'. We're not holding an Arceus damned thing. Let them do that. We're advancing constantly until we get close enough to get Azelf under control."

There were cheers, each more fervent than the last. Saturn allowed the sound to sweep him off his feet and gripped his megaphone. It's like I was born for this. Born to shine beauty upon the world and lead.

"When future generations hear of this day in our new world, they will sing our names!"
Saturn screamed.

Yes. Today was a beautiful day.



The thing has nothing but fun on its mind, and hopes it's not going to get distracted by the excitement murder brings it, lest it angers its master. Today is the start of the upswing in its life. It is a monster borne out of love and loneliness.

Mars was currently pouting.

"Can we go yet?"

"Patience, Mars," Charon said. "Samus, Elena, how's the chain looking? No side effects?"

In front of her, two people in thick, hazmat suits handled the chain with utmost care, only grabbing it with pincers that looked like they were made of steel, but that Charon kept correcting as lead. Then she'd say, 'lead is metal, Charon, I read it in a book!' and he'd say that she'd called it steel, not metal. Blegh, who cared, anyway? She listened to them spew some techno babble she had stopped trying to understand long ago and kicked her feet up in the air. She was lying on top of Star— her Clefable's stomach and waiting until the real Charon up north gave her the go ahead, and she was just so bored! Why was it, that time passed so slowly when you looked forward to something? Plus, she could be having fun right now, sowing chaos in the cities, but noooo you have to stay put Mars! And we'll throw the Red Chain on top of your lap as a bonus, to make sure you can't waste any time or have any fun when assaulting the military base around Lake Verity.

"Good," Charon said. "You may now conceal it."

She didn't even have Grace Pastel the fourth to have fun with. Originally, she'd been meant to be her temporary sister until she got her hands on the real thing, but like the others, Mars had found her lacking in many ways, so she'd tormented her instead. It reminded Mars of the good old days at the Power Plant, when she'd first laid her eyes on Grace, though her love for her had evolved and changed in many ways. Gee, she missed her so much! But they'd be reunited soon for sure. There was no way they wouldn't meet again before everything was over, and she would get her to join her family! Mars had so many things to ask and tell her she could explode!

Oh! Dusky was back. She could tell from the way the grunts around her paled or shrank back away from her. She'd forgotten how many she had, but it was barely over two thousand, if she remembered correctly. Saturn's best and brightest. To be honest, she had no idea what they were capable of, she hadn't been involved in their training like Juju or he had.

"Did you find her?" Mars beamed, sliding off Clefable's belly. "Did you? Did you? Did you?" Her feet tippy-tapped the ground in excitement.

Dusky did not appear, otherwise he would have soured the grunts' moods, but they could communicate, even then, though he would never tell her why, that meanie.

There was a deep, ghostly wail, almost a whisper, and Mars pouted.

"What? She was gone?" the girl groaned. "Did they evacuate her…? Crap, this is all your fault, Charon!"

She kicked in his direction, though her foot phased through his leg and landed on more dirt. The pink-haired man just stared at her in disappointment.

"You should already be happy that I let you send that monster off," he said. "You went looking for the girl's mother, and you didn't find her. Now get ready to fulfill your duty, you petulant child."

"Just because you're not here doesn't mean you can talk that way to me," Mars said, her eyes sharpening. She looked down at the old man and tilted her head. "I've seen what makes you squirm. So what if you bring your dead sister into the New World? You think I won't find a way to kill her again? Even if Cyrus forbids it and I can't there are many more ways to hurt someone."

She grinned when he shrunk and reveled in her victory. Hologram or not, his personality was still in there. There was nothing like pressing someone and making them squirm in fear at the sight of you.

"Plus," she said, leaning against her Clefable. "Dusky got her grandma's soul anyway. Guess she refused to leave the house. I don't think Grace and her were close because she never talks or posts about her online, but it's something. I need any edge I can get to convince her to be my sister."

Charon looked at her, his face slightly dismayed. "Did your Dusknoir get seen?"

"He says no, relax!" Mars waved a hand dismissively. "Plus, who cares if he had? They know we're coming today anyway."

"He could have been followed, you daft child!" Charon roared. "Just… stay quiet and prepare your team for the coming assault."

How annoying. She wanted to grab her knife and shank him in the back, but again, he wasn't real. Though she supposed she could have Dusky dissolve the entire thing, given the entire hologram was supported by an array of Porygon, but then Cyrus would dismiss her.

So she didn't get to kill her mother, then. Her father's apartment had apparently been too well-guarded to blow up, and despite Mars insisting they target Pokemon Centers to get her friends in the blast, it had been deemed too risky, and they were too resistant to attacks such as these. Things were not going according to plan. The only other opportunity she'd have at getting them killed was if they met again in Mount Coronet. Then, when they found each other again, she'd target her Pokemon, too.

Kill enough of them, rip them away from her one by one, and eventually, Grace would break. Mars would be there to pick up the pieces and ask her to help them recreate the world. They'd all be able to come back! She would get to be so happy again! What would be the point in saving the world if there was no one left in it for her?

Soon, she wouldn't be lonely anymore.

A cold brush on her shoulder from Dusky snapped her out of her thoughts, and Clefable created some sparkles with a snap of her fingers. Mars got on her tip-toes and giggled, rubbing the fairy type in between the ears on the top of her head, just like she liked. Star squeaked, her eyes tightly shut, and she purred when Mars added scritches to the mix.

"Let's leave some for Mr. Wiggly, yes?" she said. "You know what, pets for everyone!"

Mars released her entire team, and Charon couldn't complain given that they'd see use soon. She placed her Bellossom on her shoulder, and the grass type hugged the side of her head while Mars rubbed her cheek. Bella had always liked to be carried around like a baby, after all. Snuggles liked them under his chin, though you had to watch for his long fangs. Seviper were no joke. Twinkles was already lying on her back, her paws in the air and her nine golden tails wagging against the floor with her tongue hanging out. She liked them on her stomach, like Mr. Wiggly.

What was she talking about? Mars wasn't lonely with them! She had to admit, a big sister would be cool, though, so she still wanted one!

"Third bombing is done," Charon said. The information must have come through his Porygon. "Seven percent success rate. Any more will be wasting time, so we should start. Are we ready?"

"How many dead?" Mars asked.

"The news aren't anywhere close to finishing the tally. Possibly over ten thousand, by the time the day is over, with more wounded," he shrugged. "The hospitals aren't going to have enough space to take care of everyone. The League is not doing anything. Cynthia hasn't even given a speech, she relegated that to Bertha. People are panicking without their leader. They are terrified."

Mars licked her lips. "How fun."

The Commander shook his head. "It's what has to be done. What does it matter if they die now or in a day?"

"Well, let's go, then!" Mars yelled. "No need for a speech, everyone's ready to go!"

Charon cleared his throat. "Mars, you go off and do your own thing, as planned." There was a pause, and then his voice amplified while the world shimmered around his Hypno. Oh, right, he was there since he was their best Teleporter. "The rest of you, get in formation! Give your lives to have the Red Chain advance if needed!"

Mars stretched, her arm arched behind her head while her cohorts released hundreds of Pokemon in lines of fifty. She didn't know much, but Saturn loved rambling, so she at least understood that they planned on sending out wave after wave of elemental attacks at a distance with Psychic types standing at the edges of their formation to shield their sides and front. It was a good thing the Hunters had supplied so many of them before they were destroyed.

As for her?

She was a knife in the dark. A vanguard onto herself, meant to scout to see what kind of response they would get and if they could sniff out Cynthia.

"One of me will be accompanying you to keep you from getting distracted," Charon said, splitting into two. "The other will run things here. Go, and I will follow. If anything happens to the main column they can't handle, then you'll head back."

It was a slow walk, at first, each step deliberate. Then a skip. Then a run. Mars' entire team followed her. Ninetales and Seviper could easily keep up on the ground, given that they were easily way faster than her. Dusky stuck to her shadow, as always, while Bellossom still hung on her shoulder. Wigglytuff was swollen like a balloon, floating through the air at high speeds through sheer force of will while Clefable affected gravity around her and had herself float right behind the entire group. Charon had disappeared, but she knew he was around somewhere. Mars' breaths grew primal, and her face twisted with glee. Finally, she would be seeing some action. They were off-route, but Pokemon knew to keep away from her and such a large group of people.

For twenty minutes, they ran in silence. Mars was an excellent runner and her stamina put all the other Commanders to shame, but how could she be tired when she was about to have so much fun? There was a yowl from Ninetales, who despite her best efforts had never managed to speak into her mind, like all other psychics, and Mars stopped, her boots sliding against the dirt.

Trainer. That much was obvious. Probably a scouting party or something similar. Mars slid behind a tree and crouched while her team hung around in silence. She placed Bellossom on the ground.

"Kill them."

Ninetales had smelled them first, but that meant that they'd figure out she was there soon enough. The world didn't change— the ground didn't even shake, but ten seconds later, there was an explosion, and then there were screams, instantly smothered by the forest turning against them. She could have had Dusky do it, but it was safer if he hung around her. She wasn't about to die when she was so close to what she'd wanted for months. That was a huge chunk of her life!

"Dead?" she whispered.

Bellossom nodded, a bright smile on her face, and Mars patted her on the head.

"They'll have others. Brace for an attack, kill anything that moves."

The Commander tip-toed around her tree and went to see her work. Oh yeah, they were dead, dead. Three of them. Countless shards of wood, large enough to put kitchen knives to shame had penetrated through their skin and plants had grown to keep them in place. One through the throat, another puncturing a girl's skull through her right eye— right in the brain, score! The last had died the slowest, it seemed. No clean kill this time, but that was fine. There was beauty in variety, wasn't there? Their Pokemon— Flareon, Azumarill, Lickilicky, Persian, were just unconscious, unfortunately. This was more of something they'd workshopped to kill humans. Except a Dedenne, apparently. That one was dead.

"Aw, man," Mars sighed. "How weak."

She rummaged through their bodies, trying to find stuff under their uniforms. She liked to claim treasure from her kills, when she was allowed to. Let's see… she hummed to herself. The chain around the girl's neck looked nice, even if she was ugly. She ripped it off her neck and opened the pendant. It was a picture of the girl and another one. Maybe a sister or a friend. Mars gasped. Or a girlfriend! It was cropped too closely to see, but it looked like they might be holding hands. The guy had… a ring on his ring finger. Mars wished she was married to Cyrus, so that was hers. The last girl had five badges left on her expired Trainer ID from when she must have been a trainer—

Charon reappeared behind her. "Enough. Stop wasting time."

She stuck out her tongue at him. "Party pooper."

Mars threw out the items behind her, and Wigglytuff gasped, sucking in air, and swallowed them for later.

She had Dusknoir eat the souls of the unconscious Pokemon and kept going. There was no way she could let them live when the grunts would take this route, not that she wanted to, anyway. She was used to the screams every time the ghost opened the mouth on his abdomen. With every soul, he grew just a little stronger. A little harder to kill. It was a way to cheat his training, though he hadn't had many lately due to having to stay hidden in that stupid base, and it had forced them to actually train instead—

Stone shattered against Dusknoir's body to her left, and people barked out orders. An attack already, hm? It was a given, since she was less than ten minutes from the base and that tree explosion had probably alerted every scout in over a mile. Mars cracked her neck while her cuties got to work. Ninetales kept close, just in case Dusky wasn't enough, but the ghost type warped and the world went black and white. There were wails, thousands of wails emanating from every different direction and the majority of her enemies froze in place nicely enough for Bellossom to take care of them. Half were tough enough to withstand the pressure, but going from ten to five trainers and thirty-something to what looked like fifteen Pokemon was far more manageable. The rest still had barriers around them made by what looked to be standard League Kadabras.

Clefable waved an arm, and gravity turned sideways. The Kadabra didn't fly in their direction, but two of them lost their footing enough for Seviper to strike. Oh, he'd been gone a while now, camouflaged by an invisible Haze, and his tail turned dark with Night Slash, slashing across both Kadabra's throats, leaving trainers and Pokemon open to further attack.

Mars didn't flinch in the face of retaliatory strikes— Hydro Pump and Thunderbolt struck against Ninetales' barrier, and Dusknoir covered the coming Dark Pulse from a Mightyena so it wouldn't shatter, but it was only then that the scouts started their retreat, recalling most of their Pokemon and running back into the base. It was not a panicked, cowardly thing, but orderly. The Mightyena was still pressuring her from afar, but it didn't matter, given that she was just so much stronger.

Ninetales' eyes flashed, and the dark type spontaneously combusted, leaving Seviper to finish him off with a Poison Tail as he turned visible again.

"Well, the Meowth's out of the bag," Mars hummed as her Dusknoir swallowed the remaining unconscious bodies. "Keep going?"

As if on cue, Charon popped up in front of her. "I doubt you'll be able to breach the walls alone. They'll have hundreds, if not thousands of Pokemon waiting on top of them. Right now, you want to move before they send their elite troops and ACEs after you. Even then, they'll most likely find you."

She wrinkled her nose. "Way to sour the mood, old man."

"Shut up. As we feared, they've had the entire place swarming in darkness since the first explosion, it looks like. There will be no retreat."

"Whatever," she huffed. "I'm going."

The battles around the Lake would continue, but Mars and her team were peculiar in a way even Charon had never figured out.

Save for Dusky, they never tired.



"Arceus, you poor thing," Jupiter mourned. "So young as well."

The body itself was in relatively good condition, but had suffered too much internal trauma from one of Tangrowth's Power Whips, so unfortunately, it wasn't like he could hear her right now. The grass type regenerated as much as possible through Synthesis while the rest of her team kept pushing forward. Skuntank dashed through the snow, ignoring the Slash across her side and doused an Ursaring in poison strong enough to melt through skin. The cut closed by itself as soon as Delcatty sang in her general direction, and the poison type kept rampaging through enemy lines with awful-smelling poison pouring out of every inch of their skin, making physical contact with her a deadly affair. Stantler was completely still, working to Hypnotize all those around him, but he focused on the threats, first. Psychics and even dark types, who he had learned to bypass long ago through biological means. Girafarig was on defense, their tail being particularly apt at sniping dark type attacks before they ever made it close enough to hope to breach the barrier. Case in point, their tail snapped to the right, eyes dimming and teeth sharpening, and the coming blast of darkness from a Muk dissolved into thin air.

As for Slaking?

Well…

He was doing Slaking things. Turning human and Pokemon alike to mush and growing more rabid with each wound he took, which was why Delcatty was ignoring him for the time being. A Centiskorch blew a Flamethrower his way, but the flames helplessly washed against his fist as it collapsed atop of the bug type like a meteor and crushed its entire body. Eugh, how gnarly.

And that was ignoring the fighting going on all around her. Hundreds of League Troops had exited their fortress, and Jupiter instantly identified what looked to be an ACE. They weren't wearing their usual uniform, but their Pokemon were mowing through them like a scythe through wheat. Castform in this snow was deadly, as were the rest of his ice types. That was probably why he'd been stationed here. Fortunately for them, there was the issue of friendly fire, which meant he couldn't go completely ham. Granted, it was the same issue for her.

Gosh, he was kind of cute, too. That little gleam of confidence in his eye and the assurance in his team. She'd take him to a coffee shop if she could, though maybe he was a little too young for her.

Guess it's my job to prevent these things from happening, she internally groaned.

"Slaking. Slaking," she spoke twice to snap him out of his battle high. She clapped her hands and pointed toward the ACE. "Kill."

On average, she'd say she would absolutely lose a full-fledged battle to an ACE Trainer, but this was war, not battle, and the ACE had many things to keep track of. Slaking stood on his hind legs and ripped a tree from the forest floor, with snow dripping to the ground as he swung and threw it forward. The ACE's Weavile noticed first, blurring in front of its trainer and blowing ice to freeze the tree enough for a Beartic to shatter it with a punch. Slaking was her strongest, and possibly the strongest Pokemon she had ever witnessed in terms of physical power. The normal type barrelled through the forest, knocking away trees like tall grass and forgoing any strategy.

"Support him," Jupiter whispered to Delcatty.

The ACE Trainer said something as well, and Girafarig suddenly began to freeze. Target the psychic first, Jupiter echoed her teachings. Delcatty was busy stopping Slaking from dying, and the rest of her Pokemon were busy helping the grunts around her advance, so it fell onto Stantler to deal with this.

The normal type's antlers shone brighter, and he refocused all of his attention on the culprit, a Cryogonal that was constantly chiming and emanating with frost. She shivered when the ice continued to spread through Girafarig and the barrier around her faltered— the vision at her edges blurred, her body became numb and Adrianna suddenly felt so, so small in the face of the cold.

She could not outskill an ACE.

But she could outmuscle him. Through streams of frosts, Ice Beams, freezing limbs and his insides, they had still failed to stop Slaking, and he burst through the tightly packed ice team like a truck. A fist caught Weavile in the throat, and he threw its entire body into the trainer's barrier maintained by a focused Jynx. He smashed through it with a simple Brick Break and crushed the ACE Trainer under his fist. The face Jynx made told Jupiter everything she needed to know. Horror, of course there was horror, but there was also disbelief at something she'd put years of work into being broken like a twig.

She died before she could react any more than that. Crushed like paste.

Jupiter licked her lips and recalled Girafarig, hoping to use one of the countless fire types they had to defrost them later.

What a waste.

Unlike Mars, she was weaker, but with Slaking, she could at least bridge the gap and catch them by surprise. The Commander had won the battle, but she was losing the war. They were not advancing fast enough to match up to the expected timeline, and far too many grunts were dying far too soon. They needed at least ten percent of them at each lake to survive for the assault in Mount Coronet, but they were dying like Cutiefly. It was difficult to match experience with training, but she'd expected them to at least make it to the walls before this kind of dying started happening.

Jupiter sighed. She felt so grimey already, and the edges of her limbs looked like they had frostbite from the cold that had seeped through the barrier. She couldn't flex her hands together, but there was no time to waste.

Time to look for that fire type and put Delcatty to work.

That was when Cynthia's Lucario showed up.



He had come prepared for this. He thought he was ready. He thought he would be able to buy time for the Red Chain to capture one of the Legendaries so they could gain the upper hand.

But no one had prepared Saturn for what he was looking at.

Garchomp.

The dragon moved with calculated aggression as it charged against Saturn's army. The battlefield echoed with the rhythmic pounding of its powerful claws against the earth, each strike propelling it forward like a living, draconic battering ram. With each step, the ground trembled beneath its colossal weight, sending shockwaves that devastated their ranks and broke through all of their barriers. Every time an attack was close to hitting, Garchomp weaved away from it, dodging it so quickly it became a blur and sent a shockwave around it due to breaking the sound barrier. Saturn had to strain his eyes to catch more than a glimpse of Garchomp, but its scales were soaked in blood and guts, yet its eyes were so cold and unfeeling. Like it was just going through the motions.

That was the only Pokemon they were fighting.

Not an army.

Not ACE Trainers.

Not Cynthia's entire team, nor the Champion herself.

Just Garchomp.

Saturn barked out an order at his psychics to hold as the ground type sliced through a Purugly, cutting it in half with Dragon Claw, and stomped a foot on the ground, sinking a dozen trainers and Pokemon beneath the earth. A combined array of Ice Beams struck all around it, but it jumped and took to the skies in an instant, letting the elemental attacks explode into a surge of frost. It came back a fraction of a second later with what looked like a Staraptor's wing in its mouth, draconic energy coalescing around it as it crashed down like a meteor and roared. The shock wave brought all surrounding him to their knees, as if they were forced to bow, but they never got up. They were dead. The following Dragon Pulse shredded through another two lines of soldiers. How many had they lost already? It wasn't like he could send his team after that beast! They would just die so quickly that it wouldn't even matter, and wasting their lives here would be meaningless!

There was no respite. Garchomp sank into the earth and an Earthquake rippled through their forces. The earth rose like jagged spikes, and Saturn's Bronzong barely held his barrier at the edge of the attack, and at least fifty grunts screamed as one. An assortment of fairies came forth from another column of grunts, their legs still shaking from the impact, but they still stood strong, and were proof that even in the face of adversity, Saturn had drilled his grunts and their Pokemon enough to strategize and not to panic. But what was the point? Poison coursed through Garchomp's claws and he sliced through a Shiinotic's mushroom and blew a stream of fire right into the grass type's head. It broke through a Gardevoir, Azumarill, Mr. Mime and Florges, ripping them to shreds in seconds—

Until a Slurpuff slammed a glowing pink fist into the dragon's leg.

For a second, there was hope.

Crushed as fast as it had come when Garchomp didn't even flinch and killed Slurpuff with claws tipped in metal instead of poison, cutting through the cake-like Pokemon until it became goo and burning the remains with a Fire Blast that washed the battlefield with heat.

They had miscalculated.

Garchomp was not a Pokemon capable of being wounded. It was not even a Pokemon.

It was an unmovable object. A force. A law of nature that could never be broken. The dragon's jaw parted, body crackling with turquoise energy, and a Sandstorm instantly clicked into place, masking every order Saturn could ever hope to give to his men.

They would die quietly, and they would die alone—

"INCOMING!" Charon blasted in his ear.

His mind raced. Toxicroak, Grimmsnarl, Excadrill, Glalie, Bronzong, Exploud and Crobat were at his disposal, but the sheer gap in strength—

"Defend me!" Saturn hissed to his team.

—was too much to hope to even draw, especially in this sandstorm. The biting winds carried stinging grains of sand, each burying themselves into his team, even through Bronzong and Excadrill when they were supposed to be immune.

Then, a drop. The earth beneath Saturn collapsed, and he would have dropped nearly a hundred feet into the fissure had his quick reflexes not allowed him to hang onto his Crobat's body. His legs hung in the air, and his arms strained under his weight, but he was certain his Crobat would be able to keep him flying.

Why was—

Why was he falling?

It had happened so quickly. A burst of draconic light, and then… nothing? His entire body felt like it was on fire and burning, a weakening of the barrier since Bronzong was levitating him and the rest of his Pokemon, save for Glalie who could float, Excadrill, who wouldn't suffer from such a fall or the earth closing in on him, or Crobat—

Where was Crobat? Saturn coughed as grains of sand filled his mouth and his insides started to bleed. Garchomp was not targeting him in particular, which was peculiar, to say the least, but perhaps its main job was to thin their numbers. After all, who cared if the Commanders remained if there was no army to back them up? Part of Saturn imagined it as killing an entire colony of bugs. Would he ever care about which one was the strongest ant, if each fell to one attack regardless?

Charon's floating form appeared besides him as Bronzong lowered him to flat ground and he could finally breathe again. "Retreat, Saturn. Teleport away and await further instructions."

He hurled what felt like a thousand grains of sand and blood. He could barely breathe. "But my army—"

"Is doomed. We need you, Saturn," Charon hissed. "We can lose all of our people here so long as you live. It will not matter how many men we have past a certain point in Coronet, just how many skilled trainers remain. I order you again, Teleport away."

He had said he would die with them. That he would lead them into their new world, sword in hand. Even now, before the Sandstorm had hit, he'd seen them die with wide smiles, yelling out Cyrus' name. Singing his praises, apologizing for failing him, praying to him because he would be their new God. He already was their God.

Saturn had raised them so well.

But it was time to let go. They would each be brought back, even if it pained him to abandon them so.

"I need to find my Crobat—"

"Your Crobat is dead. The Dragon Pulse disintegrated it."

Nausea overtook him as it had so many times in the past, but it was only for a moment. He would be brought back. He would be.

"Bronzong," Saturn croaked, recalling the rest of his Pokemon.

He disappeared a few miles away.



Holy crap, those walls were tough. None of her team's attacks were working to breach it. At least the section they'd focused on had dented a little bit, collapsing into a small pile of rubble, but the structure as a whole was still standing and trainers were attacking her from every damn direction. Sending Dusky inside was tantamount to throwing the game, given that he would no doubt die after a short rampage and they didn't have the time to wait for him to appear again. That was if he'd even be able to escape this place fast enough for him not to die again. Granted, she and her team could have gone in with him, but…

Maybe.

At her feet lay the body of an ACE Trainer that she'd used as a shield after nearly dying to some kind of beam attack while Ninetales had had her shield broken, but her arms were burned because of it anyway. Not too badly, at least, but it still hurt.

Charon popped up next to her, and a Thunderbolt went through him and scraped Ninetales.

"Mars. Saturn has failed. Cynthia's Garchomp is present at Lake Valor."

The girl whistled. "Do we know if she's there too, or if she's baiting us?"

"It is probably a bait, or I assume more of her Pokemon would have joined the fight. She might also just be playing it cautiously, but I doubt it," he said, rubbing his fake chin.

"Juju?"

"Awful," he answered. "Cynthia's Lucario is killing them, and they're being driven back. Your group has made it the furthest, but if you fail here, Mars…"

"Psht, I get it. We lose," she said, rolling her eyes. After blowing a bit of air on her burned hands to cool them, she uncrouched from her position and was instantly assaulted by a barrage of moves coming from up on the wall, all blocked by Dusky and Ninetales. In a way, it was kind of cool to have burns too. That way, she was kind of just like Grace, though they weren't on her face. Bummer. In the distance, Seviper and Bellossom battled with a Scovillain and Heracross, but Mars wasn't too worried about them. All of her Pokemon except Dusky were wounded and hurt to some extent, but they fought at a hundred percent, still.

"Okay, Charon," Mars said. "We're going to have to do things my way."

"What does that mean?"

"Give me the chain. I'll get you your stupid Lake siren."

Another volley of attacks, this time nearly breaking Ninetales' barrier, though Clefable, Dusky and Wigglytuff retaliated with attacks of their own, aiming high on the walls to stop them from attacking and keep them on the defense. Darkness had swelled inside the base, making any Teleportation inside to infiltrate the place impossible.

There was a frown on the man's face, but then he exhaled. "I have not worked all these years to throw it all away in a gamble."

"We're on track for a catastrophic loss anyway," she said, twiddling her burned thumbs. "So come on, who cares?" Then, she gasped. "Wait, you're not even here anyway! I'm just gonna grab the damn chain myself. Where are your scientist goons again? What are their names?"

Charon yelled in her ear, but Mars filtered it away and ran back toward her army, which had admittedly progressed rather far and was only five minutes away from the walls. They had lost complete control of the skies, something all of them had expected, but the constant attacks of sharpened air raining from up there was getting annoying. Mars' eyes darted from face to face, her Pokemon closely following her. Those two shmucks had donned normal Galactic uniforms to blend in, now, and Dusky found them before Mars did. He always seemed to figure out where what she was looking for was even when she hadn't asked. They seemed mighty terrified at the constant sound of battle— explosions, hums of energy, the shattering of earth and bodies, screams of agony and constant death.

"You. Give me the thingie," Mars said.

"W—what?" the woman stammered.

Mars rolled her eyes and grabbed the long satchel in her hands. It was in a bag like any other that many grunts were carrying, but this one didn't have potions or full heals. It felt tough under her hands, probably because it had been reinforced by that steel thing so it didn't give everyone who touched it depression or whatever. Charon watched helplessly as she wrestled it out of his scientist's hand and she knocked her to the ground.

"You're lucky I'm busy, or you'd get your soul eaten for that," Mars whined. "Bye."

"Mars!" Charon yelled.

She giggled. "I can't hear you!"

The laugh out of her mouth that followed was genuinely among the best she'd ever had, almost childlike. Mars had wanted to bother Charon like this for years, but all she'd ever been allowed to do was use words to twist the knife. Part of her wanted to throw the chain at the League to see that look on his face— the look of sheer grief and loss he'd get when he realized he would never get his sister back, but that'd be going against what Cyrus wanted and he was pretty close to that already anyway. If the robot-him could cry, he'd be sobbing right now instead of just being on his knees.

Both of himself.

Attacks constantly flew by her, and her team struck back whenever they had an angle to. Both sides were losing a lot of people, but the League had the advantage here. Dusknoir warned her that a few extremely strong Psychics had taken to the field and she figured it must have been Lucian's Pokemon.

"This thing's heavier than it looks," Mars sighed. "Wiggly, wanna see what happens if you swallow it?"

The normal type's arms fluttered excitedly.

"That's my boy," she grinned. "You'll be fine, since it has that protective layer stuff around it… probably."

Wigglytuff sucked in the air, and the bag entered his mouth.

"Dusky! Let us catch a ride!"

The ghost hesitated, but said that there was no other choice.

Anyone else would have perished at this, and even Mars disliked how it made her feel. Dusknoir opened the maw on his abdomen and closed it around every member of her team. Bellossom first, then Clefable, Wigglytuff, Seviper and Mars—

The world went dark, and she began to fall.

It was so cold. She was so alone in here. Countless screams filled her ears, so loud she could barely hear herself think. Ghostly things danced at the edge of her vision, wrapping themselves around her face and waist in such an invasive way that the girl felt like puking.

Dusky's soul receptacle wasn't meant for people, yet Mars could live here anyway. She fell for what felt like hours until she landed in a bottomless pool that allowed her to stand here anyway. She shivered, the liquid somehow sinking deep into her skin and around her bones.

"Hi, Marsie."

"Not you again," she grumbled. Even through the screams, Mars could hear her other self perfectly clearly. "You're not as fun as you think you are, and that name is horrid."

"You're roasting yourself!" her clone mocked. "Come on, can't we have a talk? I haven't seen you since you had to escape the base in Eterna after Aaron whooped you."

"Hard to fight a bug guy in the middle of a building," Mars grumbled. "Too much stuff to keep track of and he messed with my head."

"You're resistant to that, Marsie," the girl said. "You're not a person, remember? None of you or your Pokemon are."

She blinked. "What?"

Mars, her second self, shifted, becoming a blur of shadow that she could somehow see even in the dark until she reformed closer. Her hand touched Mars' cheek, gently cradling it as she stared at herself.

It was cold. Like touching a corpse.

Around them, the screams grew louder, thundering enough to hurt Mars' entire body. It was like an earthquake rippled through Dusky's body and she could only stand as it broke her.

"I can't tell you anyway, he'll just make you forget," Mars said. "You'll forget this, too. There's no point."

"What— what are you talking about?"

She wrapped Mars into a frigid hug. "You'll be happy in this new world, Mars. You'll forget about me, but you'll be happy. Trust in Cyrus."

"You're just a part of me—"

"No, Nat," she said with a saddened smile. "You're a part of me—"

The world went white, and Mars fell onto the ground with a headache strong enough to split her skull open. Around her, her Pokemon had already been spit out of Dusky's mouth and were fighting what felt like a dozen people and Pokemon. Less than she expected, but most of them were probably at the walls or the edges of the base.

There was no time. Reinforcements were coming.

"Arceus, that's always the worst," Mars groaned.

There was no time to observe and admire the base. She ignored all the fighting around her.

The bag was already at her feet, and she'd been taught how to use it by Charon as had all the Commanders. In less than a second, she had it open, her hands moving so quickly they were a blur. She emptied the bag's contents and heard someone warn of a bomb, but this was no bomb. The metal came undone at its seams, unraveling like paper as if the chain was resonating with the Lake and begging to be let out. It floated into the air and Mars clasped a hand around it.

Mars clasped the chain tightly and power rippled through her, all of her emotions screaming for one purpose and one purpose only.

The world stood still, and it was then that Mars saw Cynthia and Lucian standing in the distance.

Mesprit's body rose from its lake.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, yesnomaybeso, Sean M, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Tina M, Nova, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kolby, ShipGoSync, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Daruda, Mystic Corn, menirx, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Eric, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Matthew M, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, catfishdog, ChairmanK--, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Dvn, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Elie, Serina T, Iepton, sqw4l, V4Ford, Micah T, L'iien
 
Last edited:
Chapter 305 - Comeuppance
CHAPTER 305 - COMEUPPANCE

Something is wrong.

It was difficult to tell at first. Like a subtle pressure in my head I had not been aware of had simply gone and disappeared. Vanished into the wind. When you were in a dream, and you tried to run or hit something, but your muscles were slow. Sluggish and unresponsive, like your entire body was made of lead and you were being held tightly by some invisible force. That exact feeling of wrongness overtook me. I stopped covering my face with my hands and looked up at my friends, who were strewn about in the bunker, some sitting with empty looks like Mira and Louis. Others like Emi couldn't help but pace around while Denzel felt compelled to use his phone to stay connected to the outside world, as if learning about what was happening in Floaroma or Snowpoint would help us. I'd done a little bit of that, too. My parents were apparently at the League, too, but they weren't allowed to see me when they asked. We were stuck down here.

Cecilia's thumb traced the contours of Slowking's Pokeball as she leaned against me. We'd all told our teams about the recent developments outside, and they were all ready for a fight. Her eyes were weary. Old. To be honest, I felt like we'd all aged a decade this past year alone, and that our childhoods were over and done with. There was no point complaining about it. It had just happened, and now I had to deal with the tools I'd been given. Another minute passed with few words being exchanged. The perception that something had gone terribly awry only grew. There was still a part of me missing.

"Cecilia," I whispered. "Does anything feel off to you?"

She rose from my shoulders and shook her head. "No."

She was, just like me, not in the mood for many words, but using each other for comfort was one of the few highlights we had left. Or maybe I was just being dramatic. I didn't know.

"Chase? Mira? Anything feel odd to you?" I continued.

"Why?" Cece added after they shook their heads.

"Feels like there's a gaping hole in my head. That's the only way I have to explain it," I muttered. "I'm worried that Mesprit—"

There was a click, a beep, and the sound of a huge metallic door rattling against the painted concrete of the bunker's entrance. At first, I figured they must have been someone sent here to update us on what was going on, because for all we had access to the internet, this place was still entirely disconnected from the outside world in a suffocating way. A vine wrapping around our necks, but barely enough to let us channel just the right amount of air to let us breathe. Heh. That'd be nice to do to Saturn, but I doubted I'd have the time to dawdle on any kills. That hadn't meant I hadn't imagined him dying in a dozen different slow and agonizing ways in the last hour we'd been in here to keep my head above the water. The hurt I'd imagined doing, the twisting of a knife, the carving and splitting of his skull below my axe, the pulling of his limbs until they popped, nailing him to a tree until he slowly died to the elements in horrible agony, hearing him beg for his life so sweetly, like the best song had just come on the radio, then pretending to offer him a lifeline before I slipped the blade in his stomach and gutted him like a fish. It was enough to fill the universe twice over and like a very good dream. Comforting, even. I hadn't thought like that in a long time, really. Not since the raid. Because I'd been scared I would slip and fall. Tumble through the abyss and become a monster borne of a love for justice and violence. Justice only I could pass down from prices and slights that could not be left unpaid.

Maybe I was one. Maybe wanting to be praised by Aliyah for behaving like a normal human being meant so. It was like Dad had implied when I'd confessed, something that would stick with me for what I believed would be the rest of my days. The way you killed. Not haunt me, per se, but maybe be a guiding light. Expectations were heavy, so heavy, but the look of betrayal on Honey's face would be too much. My Dad wouldn't forgive me again, and Cece… well, I couldn't use her vulnerable state allowing her to forgive me as an excuse to commit atrocities. I loved her too much for that.

I was not going to slip. Not going to let my demons drag me through the floor by my ankle. Not going to ruin my second chance. I'd promised.

I wasn't going to ask her not to kill, because as far as I went, I'd still do anything for her no matter what she did to others. Dramatic, maybe, but it was the truth. I wasn't going to throw a fit over a few dozen dead grunts and their Pokemon, that would make me a hypocrite and I really just… didn't care. She had killed before, as had I, and we would do so again, so what did it matter?

Why was I thinking about this in what were potentially my last days? Again and again, this always plagued my mind. Constant musings about morality when I already had the answer to my issues. It did not matter at all, especially not on a day like this one. Saturn's life was not even mine to claim. He was Sunshine's.

The League officials sent for us weren't ACEs, since I imagined they had their hands full. They were not your average League Trainers either, though, by the stars they donned on their chest. There were three of them— though the central figure captured my attention. He was a fit man on the shorter side of things, with a greying beard and hair. It was the difference between Denzel and Chase. There was an intensity about him that you only saw in trained killers, and I was honestly getting good at spotting those. It was not about the sparkle in someone's eye, or if they were happier than another. It was the way his eyes seemed to pierce through the mundane, the way he had identified every person in this room as soon as he'd walked in and assessed his surroundings even though this place was supposed to be safe. They were always waiting for the next attempt on their life, always on edge, and there was a keenness to their eyes that wasn't in anyone else's. The man at the center had more medals than the others, and a Mr. Mime accompanied him. One of the League-issued ones, probably. That was how you knew someone was important, if they had a Mr. Mime or Alakazam, or a regular Kadabra.

"Children," he said roughly. "My name is Andrew Frazier, I'm a Commander for the League. These are Avery Simmons and Emerson Pobodnik, but I'll be doing most of the talking. Listen, and listen well."

Legendaries, even from here his breath smelled like cigarettes. He was having a tough day like everyone else, though, so he must have smoked a decent amount.

"Lake Verity has not fallen, but Mesprit has been captured."

The statement hit us like a lightning strike. Panic nearly swept through a lot of us, but the other shards and I just stared. I was certainly anxious, but Commander Andrew didn't exactly leave us with time to digest the news.

"Normally I would give you a report of the situation, but we have to make haste. Grace Pastel, I've been ordered to bring you to Lake Valor."

"Is it being attacked?" Cecilia asked.

"No, there's been no activity around it for the last forty minutes," the League official said. "It would be a preemptive measure."

"What about the others?" I asked.

"They'll stay here until the situation calls for them," he said. "As for the non-shards… you're free to be brought to Mount Coronet, if you so wish. We can station you all at one of the entrances so you can make yourselves useful."

That made sense. Better to keep the shards safe until they were needed to wrestle the other guardians away from the Red Chain's control. You could technically risk it all and send them to the bases earlier than that in hopes of preempting what might happen, but from how the trio had described it, actually managing to get them back under control would be difficult and take time. The outside world would not be frozen like in our other meetings and we'd be vulnerable to attack, it would only be slowed. Now that they actually had Mesprit under their control, it was needlessly risky. Maybe not needless, but more than they were willing to take, at the moment. As for the rest of my friends, they were, even if it sickened me to think this way, expendable according to the League, and to the League's credit, they were giving them one last chance to back out.

Emilia jumped on the occasion. "Please. If I stay here five more minutes I'm going to go insane."

"Agreed," Maeve said.

"Yeah, we aren't doing anything here," Pauline said. "So long as we're all together, I'm okay with this."

"I'm… staying," Louis sighed.

Pauline clapped him on the shoulder. "It's okay, buddy."

I was already being beckoned forward by one of the Commander's fellow… well, the people accompanying him weren't dressed like Commanders, but they were still privy to the 'end of the world' information, so they must have been high up in the League. There was no time to waste. If there was only time for one lengthy goodbye, I would pick her every time. I turned toward Cece and she cradled my cheek. I leaned into it. I didn't want to leave her, not when we both knew this could be the last time we would see each other, but duty called. We knew it would.

"Stay safe," she said. "I love you. More than anything."

I smiled. That never got old, did it? There was a want to say that when this was all over I'd take her out somewhere exciting, but I didn't want to jinx it. "I love you too."

We shared a kiss. It was short, but felt like a million years, which was good. It allowed both of us a moment of respite and familiarity. A break in the constant weight pressing down our backs. Our fingers laced together, and I felt her breath against my face. Anxiety vanished for an instant, and I imagined her in my arms cuddling on a bed with our teams around us.

Alas.

"I'll see you," I said.

The doors to the bunker closed behind us, but there was no need to have me climb up the stairs and into the world. Instead, Mr. Mime's smile stretched, revealing a toothless mouth, and we vanished. We did not instantly appear in the lake as I thought we would, but off-route, probably at its outskirts. This entire place reeked of death, and there was the occasional smear of blood or organs on the trees. Dozens of people around us, League employees, had been ready to greet us with their Pokemon out while others were slowly cleaning up the… what must have been hundreds of dead bodies around here with medical masks on their faces. At least psychics were speeding them up some. I figured seeing all of those mangled bodies should have bothered me, but it didn't.

I was just numb. Like this is how it was. This is how it should be.

"Forgive the sight. This was unfortunately the safest spot for us to Teleport in and they're still blasting the base with dark TE."

My nose wrinkled at a smear of blood on my shoe. "I guess you guys won here."

"We won everywhere," Andrew calmly said. He led me forward and we started to walk. "They didn't have a chance, but they managed through trickery that shouldn't have been possible. I'll let the Champion explain, she's waiting for you."

I raised an eyebrow. "She's here?"

"Her and Elite Lucian, yes, but the latter is mostly focusing on our defenses and organizing."

Cynthia wanting to talk to me made sense, but talking to a Champion suddenly always shook someone. Was it odd, that this surprised me more than seeing all of this death? Probably. As we walked, Andrew Frazier explained that the air space around the lake was locked up at the moment save for ACE Trainers and that only Garchomp had run through this entire army. A single Pokemon had beaten thousands of others like it was nothing. Yes, Garchomp was her most powerful Pokemon, but at what point did a Pokemon so powerful cross into godhood? It was one thing to see the dragon in old battling footage and another to walk among the corpses she had wrought. I understood now why Bellatrix feared her so. As strong as Bella was, and she would still beat my entire team today on her own comfortably, she was nothing to Garchomp. What the hell did Cynthia have that no one else did? What made her so different other than experience? Talent, for certain, but the gap in strength had never felt so large. She would no doubt be remembered. Her name echoed across history like we spoke about Sinnoh's old Champions in history classes, perhaps with greater adulation, still, depending on how she spun today to the masses after everything was over.

Gods are stories, Justin, I'd told him. Legendaries, I hoped he wasn't too badly injured. That when this was over I'd be able to visit him at the hospital and apologize for failing him. How many soldiers would talk about not having to risk their lives today because of Garchomp's presence? How far would it spread? Domain Holders already knew about her, having forged countless deals to let trainers go undisturbed through the routes. Would she be talked about in communities of wild Pokemon as well? Was she already?

Questions to pass the time, mostly, but as childish as it was, I was jealous.

The walls of the base were still pristine, untouched by any attacks or blemish. None of the grunts had even reached close to the Lake. When Commander Andrew identified us at the gates, he uttered more than just our names. Ariel and Richard were apparently here too, though I assumed they were in the sky or hidden some other way. It made sense for me to have some protection now that I was out of the bunker. The gates opened, we were let in the three sets of thick walls, and I let the feeling of willpower fill my veins. The doors closed behind us as soon as we were through, faster than that, even. People inside Valor were clearly on edge— and who wasn't? But at the very least, they hadn't had to fight. These were not ACEs ready to do whatever needed to be done because it was work, ready to die or to watch their loved ones die. These were just… soldiers. Normal people who'd joined the League as a career. In normal circumstances, they never would have actually fought. The last time Sinnoh had been involved in a war was the Great one, and no one here had been alive for that.

Well, there was Ransei too, but most people were never deployed there. I didn't know much about it.

The effects of the Lake certainly helped me take the edge off, given that I hadn't built up a tolerance to it after being gone for so long. I was led not into headquarters, the largest, central building, but into the home we had stayed at all those months ago. I would have called it quaint, if it hadn't been surrounded by a league of psychics and a few trainers.

"Go right ahead," Andrew said pointing me forward. "The Champion is waiting for you."

"Oh. She's in there?"

That was surprising to me. She wasn't giving speeches for morale or showing herself for the troops, not telling anyone what was going on. She was just… in a house. Maybe doing normal people things.

I released Cassianus next to me as soon as I separated from the Mr. Mime following us. I was in one of the safest places in the region, but traveling without a psychic was impossible to me now. Just impossible. Human flesh was so vulnerable. It could be broken, bent and snapped like a twig without a second thought, and who knew when the next strike would come, when the next bomb would drop, when the next shard of stone would try to lodge itself into my skull from the shadows?

No one knew, so I'd rather be ready than die before realizing what had happened and be gone forever.

"Stay vigilant, Cassianus."

Always, my King.

They let us through without so much as a question or request for identification, which was surprising, and I opened the doors to the home without a second thought. It was a small home, not really made for comfortable living for a person I assumed had grown used to luxury, but then again, I knew very little about Sinnoh's Champion, didn't I? Cass managed to squeeze through the doors, but Cynthia wasn't in the living room. Instead, a pink-haired girl looked my way, less vibrant than Mira's.

Ah, that certainly was awkward. What the hell was Maylene doing here when cities around the region were on fire? Sure hers was fine, but… Legendaries, she looked pissed as well. I said nothing, just wiping my shoes on the carpet. I'd planned to apologize to her, hadn't I? Still wanted to. It was meaningful to me and to my prospects at a second chance at life, but it was one thing to have Candice plan the entire thing and to have mentally prepared myself for it and another to just stumble upon her all of a sudden.

We both had more important things to worry about right now, though. Still, it gnawed at me.

Do I need to be on high alert? Cass asked.

I silently shook my head. "Hey. I'm looking for Cynthia, she was supposed to be in here?"

The Gym Leader turned away from me and lay back down on the couch so I could only see the back of her head. "She's in the bathroom."

"Oh. I guess I'll just wait, then. I'll be out of your hair soon enough, I think."

"Don't think so." Her words were forced. Stringent. "And you can go in there anyway, she's cleaning up Garchomp. I just can't… look at it."

"Alright. Thanks."

She frowned at me when I just went toward the washroom anyway, and I got a better look at her from the corner of my eye when I got in front of the couch. She was dirty and hurt. Her clothes were covered in grounded dust of what looked to be asphalt or maybe concrete, along with dirt. Her forearm was bandaged, too, wrapped in a tight gauze that was tinted red in dried blood. If I had to guess, she'd gotten this way after helping save people from the explosions… somewhere. Veilstone had been spared, but maybe she'd gone to help Volkner or Crasher Wake instead of staying put. That seemed like a Maylene thing to do, the Gym Leader was lean, but she was toned from working out all the time. Her muscles were well-defined beneath smooth, taut skin, and as an aura user, she was very useful in that regard. It was easy to picture her lifting huge collapsed rocks up from someone's legs or allowing authorities into a burning building, a bright smile on her face and telling people everything was going to be okay.

Ah, man. Must be what being good was like. Caring about so many people sounded exhausting. Thousands of lives snuffed out, and I couldn't even bring myself to grimace about it when not thinking about Justin. It reminded me of a conversation I'd had when I'd only just met Pauline and hated her guts. She'd told me that seeing injured trainers file in and out of the Pokemon Center after nearly getting killed in Eterna Forest hadn't bothered her. That she was more concerned about the lives of people she cared about than strangers.

I'd gotten up in her face about that and thought she was a horrible person. Funny how things worked out.

My hand wrapped around the door handle, but froze. I'd almost forgotten to knock. Hell, I'd forgotten to do it on the first door. When I did, a smooth voice told me to come in.

The bathroom was too small for a Garchomp, but Cynthia made it work anyway. The beast barely fit inside of the room and was wedged awkwardly between the confines of the small space. Her tail was bent and hugged the walls of the bath while she had to bend down for her head to not hit the ceiling. The dragon's cold, yellow eyes settled on me for a moment while Cynthia scratched the back of her neck with a shower glove to get whatever that was off of her. Didn't look like a distinctive piece of organ to me, but I hadn't had time to study human anatomy anyway. The entire floor was soaked in red water and more innards, and it smelled metallic, almost sweet. Cass' eyes wobbled a little bit. They stayed behind me, unable to fit in the already crowded bathroom.

"Sorry for the sight," Cynthia said. "Garchomp hates being dirty, so it couldn't wait."

The dragon's entire body was clean, save for her face. Even now, Cynthia's voice was as confident, yet gentle as could be in the same way that had captivated room after room, audience after audience. A smile was plastered on her face, the same as always in a way that was a little unnerving. Like it was the only way she knew how to act when things got tough. She was dressed in a simple blue shirt and jean shorts, uncaring about the fact that she was getting soaked with bloody water, and her hair was tied into a ponytail like mine instead of the usual cascade down her legs, though hers was longer.

"I don't mind," I said. "You wanted to see me? I'd rather learn about what's going on as soon as possible."

"Of course. Call Maylene for me?"

I raised an eyebrow, but acquiesced, making my short stint back to the living room. I found Maylene scrolling through her phone with a worried look on her face that turned to stone as soon as she saw me.

"Cynthia wants you in there."

She paused. "In there."

"Just… within earshot, I think."

"Ah. Okay."

That was how we ended up with Maylene standing next to the door of the bathroom, her body turned away from us.

"As you know," the Champion started, "Mesprit has been taken from its Lake through the Red Chain. This is, of course, a catastrophe of the highest order."

It was, but she was delivering it like everything was going on as usual.

"Lucian's psychics were serving as support as soon as Galactic got close enough thanks to our bait and we began pushing them away from the Lake while having set up killing fields to get rid of the highest number possible as fast as we could, but Commander Mars managed to sneak in via transportation through her Dusknoir. Her and her entire team."

I frowned. "How?"

"Wouldn't she have… you know, died?" Maylene whispered.

"No one knows how she survived the trip, but it means she's been altered in a way that means she's no longer a person in the flesh," Cynthia explained. "There are only a few people like this the League knows of, none of which live in Sinnoh, and it's a fascinating topic best saved for a brighter day."

"How did she escape?" Maylene asked.

Cynthia asked her Garchomp to lower her face for her and rubbed her Pokemon's cheek. "Mars directed Mesprit to blast us with a wave of emotion and then Teleported away."

Maylene scoffed. "Through the dark?"

"Through the dark, yes. Rules don't apply to Legends, even those who can only use a fraction of their power. We also observed the creation of a barrier, though it still remains to see how powerful it is." Cynthia stood on her tiptoes and finished cleaning up Garchomp. "Mars also got a large part of their forces away from Verity."

"Shit…" Maylene grumbled, paling slightly.

"How many are left?" I asked.

"None remain in Valor. Around… two hundred were saved by Mesprit up in Acuity and five hundred in Verity, but those are only estimates. They were nearly wiped out. Their tactics were sound, but they didn't have the power to stand up to any of my Pokemon. Now, as it stands, they do not have enough forces to attempt another storming of any lakes if they want to have troops left for Coronet, but Lucian and I are starting to wonder if it even matters."

She turned the faucet off.

"If Mesprit is strong enough to Teleport through the dark, to shield the Red Chain's wielder from any attack, and they can take control of the Legendaries within a minute at most, then I don't believe we'll be able to stop them from making their way up Coronet," Cynthia said, never losing her smile despite what that implied. "Now Grace, that is where you come in."

"I have to stop Mesprit before they take control of another Legendary," I gulped. That was a lot of pressure. "Got it."

"How do you know Valor is where they'll attack?" Maylene asked. "I mean, Garchomp just… kicked their asses! Won't they go to Acuity instead in hopes of avoiding you?"

Cynthia shook her head. "Distance is now meaningless, Maylene. Mesprit can transport hundreds at a time, possibly inside of this base. Luckily Teleporting to Spear Pillar should be impossible even if they get them all, but that doesn't matter right now. They might come here first, they might not, we have no way to know, but I believe they think I'll be waiting up north because of what you said. Call it a gut feeling."

Spear Pillar. It was something I'd only heard once from Mira due to Carlos telling her about it, but just thinking the words out loud made me feel small. Like I was being looked at with a magnifying glass. These were not words to be said lightly ever, or at least that was what I felt like. Cynthia certainly had no trouble uttering them, or at least she didn't show it on her face.

"So, Cynth. What am I doing here? When can I leave and help others?" Maylene pressed. "I've just been sitting here for the past thirty minutes and I feel fucking useless."

"You'll be working to keep Grace protected," Cynthia said.

She clicked her tongue. "Doesn't she have ACE Trainers for that?"

"They'll be here too," she said. "But you see, they failed to identify Dusknoir sneaking into the base down in Verity, like it was invisible to all of their Pokemon and techniques. I don't know if it'll be hidden from Grace's empathy as well, but she won't be conscious while attempting to get Mesprit back. Just in case, we'll have you and your team follow her around to sense if it ever gets close before and while she's doing that. Their Commander Mars is known to be obsessed with Grace..." her eyes flickered up at me for a moment.

What was that about?

The Gym Leader tapped her foot outside the bathroom. "Fine."

"How will she and her Pokemon know? Is it aura stuff?" I asked.

Garchomp returned to her Pokeball. "Yes. Maylene's Lucario is better at using aura to sense things than even mine and will be able to feel any disturbance approach you. We should have had her in one of the Lakes from the start, but we never had enough experience with Dusknoir to establish its capabilities."

"The people need their leaders, Cynthia, they—"

"The people do not know what they are talking about, nor do they know what is good for them, so their opinion is null and void," Cynthia interrupted. "Now, will you do this for me?"

Her tone never changed. It hadn't, but…

One couldn't say no. Not to her.

"Okay."

Maylene's voice was smaller, now.

"Thank you. You'll just be waiting here until a second attack comes. Right now we have aerial scouts looking for them, but Sinnoh is large and Mesprit could have brought them anywhere off-route. They're probably reorganizing their forces, taking tally of who died and testing things with Mesprit's capabilities. They won't be long." Cynthia gestured me out of the bathroom, which we all promptly left. "I'll send someone to clean this all up, I need to go see Lucian."

"Where are the others? Aaron and Flint?" Maylene asked.

"Mount Coronet. Grace, I need to talk to you for a moment before I leave."

"Oh. Okay."

Maylene had already stomped away, since she'd wanted to so desperately help people from dying. I understood her, too. She could make a real difference and her missing was potentially costing people their lives, but Cynthia's word was law. The Champion untied her hair, letting it flow freely behind her as she shook her head, and I struggled to shut down the signals in my brain telling me how pretty she was. I'd never had a childhood crush on Cynthia like many kids had, and to be honest I'd never been attracted to many people in general but one could recognize that she was… well, she was cool, even if that persona might be fake a lot of the time.

I'd gone from admiring her, to hating her, to… whatever this was. Not admiration again, but maybe an understanding of why she acted the way she did.

"So. I will preface by saying that this is bad news," the Champion said. "I will give you the option to ignore this until this whole situation is dealt with if you so wish."

My stomach sank, and any thought I had about Cynthia's looks and how she carried herself seemed horribly childish. That's what you get for letting your guard down, I thought, clenching my jaw.

"Is this about… Justin?" I asked.

"No. Do you want to hear?"

"...yes."

"It's about your grandmother," Cynthia said. "I do not know where your friend is, though I heard he was caught in the bombings. I could find out his status within a few minutes if you want but he is most likely—"

"No!" I yelled. "No, just… it's okay."

"Ah. I see. Very well, then. Your grandmother's body was found in her house in Twinleaf. We believe she had her soul stolen by Dusknoir, who sneaked past her guards to kill her just like it did to make it through our walls. We'd asked her to evacuate so she could be brought to the League, but she refused and the people I'd put in charge didn't see it fit to force her out."

"What?"

The champion sighed. "Sorry, I've never been the best at delivering these types of news. I usually have someone else do it for me. People have told me I'm too straightforward about it."

I blinked, not knowing what to say or even how to react. My grandmother was… dead. Her soul was being tortured by Mars' Dusknoir as we spoke, like thousands of others. I was sad— no, not sad. Maybe sorry was a better way to put it. I'd gotten her killed by just being related to me, and that was a horrifying prospect to wrap my head around, but I was not gripped by the throes of sorrow. I did not want to cry, or to scream, or to get revenge any more than I already wanted to. It just felt hollow. Numb. I leaned against the wall and Cass asked me if I was alright, but I didn't answer. Did I feel this way because she'd been an asshole to me, or because I'd only met her twice that I could remember? In a way, I thought that I should be feeling more than this.

"Huh," I said. "I… shit. Okay."

"Then I'll be on my way," Cynthia said. She looked about ready to leave, now with her repeatedly looking toward the hallway out. "Call me if you need anything, and I'll make it happen. My condolences, Grace."

I stood still until I heard the door at the entrance close. Maylene seemingly asked her something, but I didn't hear their conversation.

I shambled into the living room in silence, and Maylene now had her Lucario with her, whispering low enough so that I didn't hear. She was probably telling him about everything going on. Still, she didn't pay me any mind, so I just sat on the dinner table instead of the couch and cradled my face as I let out a pained groan. Dead. I'd never see her again. The chord had been cut off, the relationship could never be mended and there would be no second chances. It was easier to dislike someone who was alive and breathing. I would never be able yell at her and tell her how much of a bitch she'd been to my mother just for taking care of me or try to understand what it was that had twisted her so. Arceus, my Mom. She'd be devastated by this, wouldn't she? She loved her mother, I saw it in her eyes when they'd fought. You weren't hurt when arguing with someone unless you cared deeply about them.

My bandaged hands traced the contours of my face.

It was too late. There would be no takebacks. Nothing could be done.

"Sorry for your loss."

Maylene was looking my way, as was her Lucario. The fighting type nodded deeply, reminding me of Ri's way of interacting with people. I was sure that there'd be differences between the two if I'd known Maylene's enough.

A strange, choked sound left my throat. "I didn't… I didn't know her very well."

She shrugged. "Family is family. It sucks either way. And I'm sorry, I kind of overheard, it's… hard to control myself when I'm stressed. I've got better hearing than the average person." Her tone wasn't gentle, but it was respectful enough to tell me she was trying to be nice.

"It's okay. I've just gotta put my head down and deal with it." My fingers touched the sharp edge of the table, poking at a corner repeatedly. Pressing it until it poked deep into my bandage until Cass warned me to stop. "Hey."

"Hm?"

"This is probably a bad moment for this. I just can't… keep it in now that you're here. Tell me if you want me to stop."

The Gym Leader was on edge, more so than she'd just been. Her posture was rigid, her back completely straight and arms tensed. Her gaze never lingered on a single spot for too long.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" she asked, squeezing a hand around her other arm.

"Like what?"

"Like… it feels like when Nia— Gardenia looks at me, but there's none of the warmth. I hate it. Like you're probing for a weakness instead of looking out for me, and I don't expect someone like you to look out for me, but you know, it's just weird and it makes me feel uncomfortable."

"I don't follow. I'm just looking at you because we're talking."

"You know what, I'll just drop it." Maylene stopped, given that Lucario must have been talking to her. After a few seconds, she continued. "Look, your grandma's dead and your other friend… I don't know, so I don't want to fight, but I've been— I've been picturing this moment in my head for when we met again." Her tone was rising ever so slowly. "When I'd be able to tell you how much you hurt me. How you would have destroyed me if my friends hadn't been here to help, and while I was picking up the pieces you were having a grand old time. Riding off your fame from that interview and having fun in Sunyshore, going on dates, hanging out with that Johtohan Gym Leader and Volkner. You hurt me, but they were letting you into our circle. Do you know how awful that made me feel?"

Cass was about to protest, but I raised a hand and let her speak. It was her right. My comeuppance.

"At some point I started to wonder, was something wrong with me? Because clearly, Candice was still calling you until you left Pastoria. You were only finding success after success, and I was just fucking miserable."

Each word felt like a blow, each sentence like someone was pouring salt into a freshly opened wound. Every time her face contorted in anger there was a subtle sadness woven within.

Her eyes were wet.

"I already know what you want. You want to apologize. Candice's already been trying to find an angle sometimes when we speak and every time, I tell her that I don't know. Everything I've read about you— been forced to read about you points to some kind of psycho. You kill, you torture, you hurt more than necessary in battle, you—" she stopped and groaned. "You're bad, and the world is ending, and I shouldn't care but you're the one who wanted to bring this up." Her built-up anger fell for a moment. "Wait, you did want to bring this up, did you?"

"Yes. I did."

"Okay, thank the Legendaries. I've built you up as this… this caricature in my head, I think. I was expecting some emotionless monster who's only looking to hurt, but you aren't that. And I know your grandma just died and it's kind of unfair, but you also aren't… I don't think I can forgive you with a simple apology is what I'm getting at."

"I know that. I just wanted to get it off my chest and actually do it because I don't know if I'll ever see you again," I muttered. "And you know what, I haven't even done it yet." I rose from my seat and faced her. "I am sorry, Maylene. For purposefully using you being overwhelmed by work to have you break down. For what I did to your Infernape and for goading you in public to make you look like the bad guy. I knew you were hurting and instead of trying to help, I was the one who made the situation worse. I'm sorry for being a huge reason for all the shit you got online. The threats, the abuse… everything."

Ah.

I felt so much lighter now. Like I was a feather in the sky being carried by the wind.

She snapped. "I just said I wouldn't— you know what, whatever," Maylene sighed, her eyes tightly shut. "We don't have to talk about it anymore, just venting all of this out made me feel better. Thanks, Lucario."

Her starter patted her on the back, no doubt talking to her through aura while I sat back down and sagged into my chair. My cheeks felt warm, I was short of breath and sweat dripped down my forehead, like I'd just worked out or gone through a long battle. For around five minutes, there was silence as I just stared blankly at a wall, not daring to look at Maylene.

"Um… sorry to ask you this, but are the Gym Leaders okay? You know, with the explosions in the cities."

"You have a phone— gosh, okay, they're all fine. Still helping out local authorities while I'm sitting here, being useless. I think Roark was hurt a little bit, but he's okay. I can turn on the T.V. if you want."

"No, I'm fine. Thanks."

Arceus, I hated when someone figured you out. That subtle shift in their eyes, that lean a fraction of an inch forward as they questioned if they'd been seeing things or if they were right about the chink in your armor. Not finding a weakness per se, but realizing why you acted the way you did.

Must have been obvious, if it had been obvious to Chase.

But Maylene didn't push. Instead, she kept the knowledge to herself and looked down at her phone.

Nothing else to do but wait.



Maylene Suzuki scrolled through her phone in silence. So many dead, and for what? Every headline was accompanied by a picture of a collapsed building, every article by a testimony from someone who had survived the blasts but lost someone today. This day would traumatize and haunt Sinnoh for a generation. The people were demanding blood for this, a strike at any target, revenge, but there was nothing to show for all the casualties but a half-empty base underneath Veilstone and a few grunts and scientists who'd missed their Teleportation ride. The fact that it had spanned the entirety of the city made Maylene sick to her stomach. How the hell had they built it so deep, and how had they done it under the nose of her father's authority?

You'll only run in circles if you keep questioning it, Lucario said next to her. You can ask him yourself when he gets here.

"Might not make it before the world ends. He doesn't even know about all of this," Maylene whispered. Low enough so that the girl she'd been forcefully shackled to by Cynthia wouldn't hear. "You know he gave up access to classified info as soon as he retired."

Not always.

Granted, sometimes those rules were flexible, but not if you left for another country. The worst part was that he was coming back with his wife, but worrying about shit like this when Sinnoh was on fire wasn't up to a Gym Leader's standards, so she shook her head and continued scrolling. There was mass hysteria in the streets. Gangs of trainers were roaming to see if they could catch anyone in Team Galactic, and of course people were being accused for no good reason other than they 'looked suspicious'. Violence begot violence, along with mass hysteria, and multiple fights had to be put down by authorities in every city. Luckily all of those trainers had been weak, but still… seeing Sinnoh like this hurt. She wanted to be out there and be a symbol for people to latch onto. Her sudden absence from Sunyshore wasn't doing the rumors any help, she bet. Hopefully Volkner was okay with keeping order. He could be a lazy bum sometimes, but he was actually among the hardest workers she knew, at least on the city governance side of things and running his Gym. Battling was only one part of being a Gym Leader.

Are you hungry? You haven't eaten since yesterday night.

"I'm okay."

You're always okay, but not really, her friend rolled his eyes. I'll see if I can scrounge up something. Better not complain about how it tastes, though.

She smirked. "Thanks."

Watching him stride toward the kitchen had her look at Grace for a moment, just staring blankly ahead and doing nothing much else. Her Claydol too, just hovered there in silence, eyes constantly moving and looking at every single inch of this room. Truth be told, silence after she managed to vent her feelings out was a lot better than what she thought would happen. She knew what kind of girl Grace was, now, so she'd prepared at least twenty different answers for the argument she'd expected to happen. After playing it out in her head during many showers or nights spent staring at the ceiling in her bed, Grace just deflating like that was kind of underwhelming. Better for Maylene's state of mind, but still underwhelming.

Maylene heard the sound of cutlery in the kitchen and her stomach growled. She wished Nia was here with her.

"Do you want to eat anything?" Maylene asked. "Lucario's making food."

She looked like she was hanging by a thread, that thread being the survival of her friend… Justin Gardner, his name was? Apparently he'd been caught in one of the blasts at the Canalave library, but…

Yeah, she was hanging by a thread, and since she was supposed to cut off the control the Red Chain had over Mesprit, it'd be best if she was at least okay, even if Maylene didn't really like having to do this. Cynthia had warned her, before Grace came and she started… cleaning. Arceus, the sight of her Garchomp had made her nauseous. Warned her that Grace's mental state was most likely 'highly volatile' and that she needed to be handled carefully. Why, then, had Cynthia revealed the death of her grandmother?

'Better me than Mars,' the Champion had answered right before leaving.

And now Maylene had her duty— duty that she had almost messed up by confronting the damn girl about how much she'd hurt her. She had started talking, and after all these months holding back, stopping had been impossible.

Cynthia had this weird way of being likable even though she was admittedly the worst person Maylene knew. Hundreds had been subject to torture on her order, a policy that had no doubt made Galactic members closer to their cult because of the fear of being turned into a braindead puppet forced to live the rest of their lives in a League prison. Her Garchomp had just murdered over a thousand people and they'd both been so nonchalant about it. Maylene shuddered at the thought. Every time they spoke, she had to remind herself that she was bad. A horrible person who just happened to be her boss. Always, it was the most drastic measure with her. Jumping at the worst option imaginable instead of compromise— not that she'd expected her to compromise with grunts now that the situation was this serious, but it was the sheer unbothered way she had shown up that shook Maylene.

Yet there was no other choice, now.

"Grace?" Maylene asked again.

"Oh. What?"

"Food. Do you want any?"

"Oh. I'm not very hungry, but thanks for the offer."

"If you're certain. Lucario's making something right now, he could just add a little extra for you." Arceus, just say yes already for the love of all that was holy. "I don't want you to pass out or anything."

"Okay."

"Sweet. Hey Lucario, can you—"

I heard already, he answered. Few could communicate from this far with aura without concentrating, but he was one of them. Just a simple ham and cheese sandwich.

"Ham and cheese sandwich okay with you?" she asked.

"Mhm."

"Great. If you want anything else, just let me know."

"...why are you being nice to me?"

Maylene frowned. "I'm just… showing common decency."

Grace twitched, her head turning slightly toward Maylene and away from the wall. "But I hurt you. I honestly hurt you a lot worse than I did most people I hurt. You said you wouldn't forgive me. I'm not getting a second chance."

"It's not about second chances. And look, if you want, you can just be pragmatic about it and say that I need you in good condition for the coming fight."

"It's not. You're genuinely good. Thank you for that."

The Gym Leader huffed. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Lucario came back with their food another three minutes later. The bread was a little dry, but it'd do to keep her stomach for now. Grace was eating as well and looking a little better, at least. She was even chatting with her Claydol and had released that weird blob of metal from its Pokeball. Maybe the world would survive the coming evening and the following day. Maylene had kept her doom scrolling to a minimum by distracting herself by fooling around with Machamp and Lucario and playing charades, though the former was admittedly horrible at it even if she did enjoy the game. Machamp had made Candice launch into a laughing fit that had nearly killed her when she'd tried imitating Cynthia last summer.

That was, unfortunately short-lived, and their moment of peace was interrupted when ACEs burst into the building.



Forty minutes. That was the time I'd gotten to prepare for the task at hand.

I was led out of the house by ACEs I didn't know the names of, though I recognized Ariel and Richard leading them, at least. Maylene was at my side with Lucario, wisps of blue energy swirling around them both as they flanked me so the fighting type could sense Dusknoir as soon as he showed himself.

Mesprit looked just like I'd seen them in their lake. As small as a human baby, their skin smooth like glass. What was different now was that their brilliant golden eyes were now closed and they were almost cradling themselves, like they were sleeping. There was a feeling in my chest, intrinsic knowledge of what I should do to fix this wrongness. Fix the fact that one of His creations was no longer going along with His plan and was being used for nefarious deeds. Below Mesprit, along with a cohort of five grunts and their Pokemon, was Mars. Her red hair was longer than it used to be, going down her shoulders instead of being gelled, and she was as pale as she'd always been.

Here stood my nemesis. The person I'd feared for so many months, first for what she could do to me and then because I'd been turning into her.

Her mouth gaped when she saw me standing in front of her, pure joy writ on her face like the expression of an exaggerated statue.

"Grace," she gasped as a flurry of attacks struck their barrier.

Cynthia's entire team was present, save for Lucario and Spiritomb, each of them using attacks that I had no doubt could shatter any Gym's barrier within a fraction of a second. Eight of the Champion's Pokemon, Lucian's psychics trying to unravel the barrier instead of breaking it with brute force, and more League trainers than I could count, and the barrier only shook.

But at least it was shaking. They were only using a fraction of Mesprit's power, and since there was no blast of emotional torture, I assumed that Mars was having them put everything they had into this shield of protection, and more of the grunt's psychics were backing them for support. It was not impenetrable.

I tasted bile at the back of my throat. Only Cecilia had ever spoken my name in the way Mars had. So lovingly. The next words were silent, given the number of explosions and elemental attacks being swallowed by the shield, but I could read her lips like the statement was crisp and clear.

I missed you. Her hands formed into a heart above her chest.

I pictured her neck snapping and her crumpling to the floor to soothe myself.

My eyes closed, and I linked my emotions with Mesprit's right as Mars gripped the Red Chain around her neck.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, yesnomaybeso, Sean M, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Tina M, Nova, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kolby, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Daruda, Mystic Corn, menirx, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Eric, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, catfishdog, ChairmanK--, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Dvn, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Elie, Serina T, Iepton, sqw4l, V4Ford, Micah T, L'iien
 
Last edited:
Chapter 306 - It's So Lonely Here
CHAPTER 306 - IT'S SO LONELY HERE

I awoke to the distorted sound of rushing water.

Opening my eyes, the first thing that jumped at me was color. The sky was impossibly vast in a way that was difficult to describe, but it wasn't blue. The heavens were a canvas of ever-shifting color unlike anything I'd ever seen before. It was every single hue imaginable, every mix, every combination one could think of was there in the sky with enough volume to have dread creep up my spine. It was difficult to tell how far away it was from me, too. If I focused my eyes a certain way, the sky looked close enough to touch, but sometimes it looked so far, like I was staring at the firmament instead. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust for me to realize that it wasn't… well, it wasn't exactly real. Like someone had plastered a two-dimensional colorful tarp over the sky and called it a day. There were no clouds, no sun in the sky, nothing to grasp at to tell myself that this place could exist, yet I felt warmth coming from somewhere, just colors instead of a star. The sky was still vast enough to have me shiver, like the world was boundless and so overwhelming, but fake in a very subtle way that you'd overlook if you didn't focus enough.

My entire body felt sluggish. My hands gripped at the ground, hoping to find dirt, but the surface was smooth as metal instead, warm as pavement under the gentle heat of late spring. Rising into a sitting position, this place unfurled before me. Everywhere I looked, the world seemed to pulsate with emotion as if it were alive. Mountains rose like titans of color, their peaks shimmering in the radiant light reflected from somewhere while another was shrouded in darker tones and nearly invisible to the naked eye. Rivers flowed with liquid rainbows, their currents twisting and turning in mesmerizing patterns. To my left was one that dizzied if you looked long enough, and it spread out into a waterfall that fell down into a valley, but it was like everything moved slower here. The water was almost frozen in time, only moving a few inches every second, if even that. Far away— impossibly far away, as if I was somehow looking at something thousands of miles away, enormous pillars of different hues stood, stretching so high into the sky I just…

Just…

How high did they go? I looked on, and on, and on, but they never ended. I'd called them pillars, but they were more like storms frozen in time. If I got closer, I bet I'd see them move, but I didn't want to see what would happen to my state of mind if I was thrown into one of those storms.

This place. It boggled the mind and unease kept crawling down my spine like little bugs or grains of sand were slithering down my back. It shouldn't exist. It was a world beyond my understanding that felt suffocating to be in. It was so beautiful, almost frozen.

Like a painting. Mesprit had always been obsessed with colors, hadn't they?

And God, was it a painting. For one, I didn't fit in, as if I'd been shoved into one of those cartoons Princess liked while still looking like a normal human. Each area I would look at was stylized differently, with strange shapes, textures and… not themes, but… gah, I'd never been interested in art! Louis or Cece would be able to put this into thought far better than I was, but at the same time, it wasn't like there were words to describe what I was looking at. A Legendary inconceivably old had created this place, and it would be a foolish endeavor to attempt to make sense of it.

Instead of an endless void, this was Mesprit's inner mind when they were not dormant, it seemed, and it took a significant amount of effort not to sit and stare forever. It would be easy to. Everywhere I looked, I could get lost in fractals that went on forever, or at least hadn't ended as far as I had looked. There were no voices here, but it was like something was telling me to keep my eyes wide open and bask in whatever this was. I supposed someone who wasn't the shard of emotion would have gotten overwhelmed by this subtle perception to the point of paralysis, and for better or for worse, I'd been given this duty.

And I was on a time limit.

I rose to my feet with a spring in my step, remembering that I wasn't wounded in this dream world or mindscape or whatever you wanted to call it. For a moment, I put weight on my leg— my full weight, and I giggled. The first unnatural sound this place had seen in thousands of years was me and my stupid laugh. It was— it had been so long since I'd been able to do that. When meeting Mesprit for the first time, I'd been too focused on surviving with my mind intact. I technically walked without a crutch now, but doing this was still impossible and holy crap this felt liberating.

Could I run? Mesprit was nowhere to be found, and I needed to cover ground quickly, so it made sense to try. My leg hesitantly flattened on the smooth ground, and then I started… running. There was no wind to zip past my ears here, no need to breathe loudly because my lungs were on fire, but it was real, and I was running! I was running! Smoke and paint burst from my skin, all bright colors that etched themselves in the ground and sky behind me. There was a sense of liberation with each step, almost like I'd been given wings! Every time my foot stomped on the ground, the possibility of me taking flight was there, at the tip of my feet. Legendaries, to be able to feel the ground beneath my feet, just to stomp and not have pain surge through my leg!

This was heaven. This was the magic of movement.

"Haha… hahaha!"

I was happy here, when I'd been gloomy right before entering Mesprit's world. Was it a subtle trick of the mind, or was I just meant to be here?

I jogged, skipping across a few 'stones' lying about the waterfall. I'd never been the most agile girl, but by the Legendaries, I made that river look like a chump. I had no idea what would have happened if I'd fallen in it or if it was even a real liquid or not, but I didn't care. The only thing I could do was laugh and run, barreling down the hill while my arms windmilled at my sides with no direction in mind. My leg was caught behind another and I tripped, rolling on the floor, and I found myself unable to stop laughing. And why even stop? This place was— this place was so beautiful! Oh, how far it stretched! How it showed me colors I'd never even considered before, how they bled into my skin and became me.

Plus, there were no signs of Mesprit anywhere, nor anything I should look for. Maybe those darkened mountains in the distance? They…

Hold on.

Had they moved?

My legs stopped, skidding across the smooth, painted floor. Come to think of it, it was dry, but my clothes and skin were starting to get soaked in color. Yellow, pink, brown and red on my shoes and legs while the extremities of my fingers were turning bright purple, white and a strange, ashy grey that pulsated every few seconds. It was growing ever so slowly, but it was different than the colors everywhere else. It was as if the paint wasn't covering me, but becoming my skin. I blinked as I brought my hand up and saw the paint crawl across it ever so slowly about as fast as everything else moved here.

I couldn't let it cover me. This was… this was a timer. It was strange to know something without any prior context, but that was what it was— the only thing that it could be. But wouldn't my time in here be shorter? The main problem was that Mars was using the Red Chain to take control of Azelf, and I had no idea if this place would have a way to know how long that would take. I needed to act like I had even less time than what this place was trying to show me, because chances were she would Teleport away before I was done here and I'd be pulled away. I had no heart capable of pounding against my chest, but the anxiety was there. It was real, tangible, and in front of my eyes, so solid I could actually grab it, and grab it I did. The stormy cloud shattered against my hand and splattered all over me and the ground at my feet with a small explosion, releasing a pressure I hadn't known had been there, and I was happy again.

This place was definitely drugging me without my consent. Focus. Shard of Emotion my ass, this place was a fucking trap meant to keep you here for as long as Mesprit wanted.

"Ar—Ar—"

Arceus? I couldn't say His name. It was like it was constantly on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't utter it.

"I wish my Pokemon were here," I finished my sentence. They'd keep me grounded, at least. Or Cecilia. I missed her, even though it had only been a few hours. I so desperately wanted her with me in a way that made my heart physically hurt.

My eyes drifted back to the darkened mountain, and I turned… away from it and toward the hill I'd just run down from.

Or at least I thought I did. Everywhere I looked, it was at the center of my vision as if the world itself was forcefully bending itself to get me to look. Witnessing this made no sense and made my head spin, but either way, it had the desired effect. The mountain was the tallest in this world, an oppressive force that sapped me of any joy if I focused on it for too long.

I smiled and made a note to look every minute to center myself and to not get lost in the weeds of this place. Either way, this crushing feeling was familiar. Being this happy for too long felt alien, not that I was incapable of being happy, but the highs just never felt as good as the lows felt awful, lately. Everything had just been recalibrated, somehow.

I looked at my fingers once more. The grey was inching forward ever so slowly. If Cass had been here, they would have been able to estimate how long it'd take to cover all of me within the minute.

There was a pull. Like I was about to be swept off my feet and carried toward the mountain.

I have to go there.

I didn't know when I started running again. One second I'd been standing, breathlessly staring at doom itself, and then the next, the world was blurred around me until making out the ground from the sky was impossible. It all blended together into a torrent of chromaticity that spun around me and overtook every inch of my vision. Until I couldn't make up from down, right from left, save for the looming mountain in the distance. I went so quickly that light bent around me and I couldn't feel the ground underneath my feet.

My hands were covered in gray when I made it, and it was crawling up my ankles too. This mountain— this tower was difficult to describe. The way I craned my neck as far as possible and it unfurled before me like a titan, and how it made me feel like I was falling upwards. This is even taller than those storms. This was a painting, so I could theoretically see as far as Mesprit had drawn. There were no clouds or atmosphere to mask things that were too far, and so I could fully witness how grand it was. How it stretched so far into the heavens it might as well have been infinite. I was a speck, a microbe under its shadow. So insignificant that it took my breath away, and negative emotions pressing down my back weren't helping.

I was supposed to climb this? This was like a Mount Coronet onto itself! I was going to run out of time… the realization dawned on me, and my lips trembled. Is this mountain modeled like Mount Coronet? It certainly had the scale to it, but I hadn't stumbled onto an entrance of any kind and telling was actually impossible. Maybe I was supposed to climb it? It wasn't like this body was real. I'd fallen over earlier and felt no pain whatsoever, could run faster than Honey could in real life, and didn't get tired. Glancing at my hands again, I bit my lip. I was wise to this world's tricks now, and I pushed down the apathy trying to worm its way into my brain. The little voice telling me that it would be pointless to try. Part of me wondered why it and the previous happiness was so subtle. After all, hadn't a dormant Mesprit blasted me with emotion so strong I'd been at their complete whims when I'd met them for the first time? What was with the cloak and dagger? Was it because Team Galactic couldn't use Mesprit's full power? That answer didn't sit right with me, but there was no time to dawdle.

I took a deep breath and started scaling into the malevolent hues. The rocks were streaked with shades of the darkest ebony and midnight blue so dark it might as well have been black. It was like stepping into a void, and it reminded me of Shiftry's darkness. Colors so dark they reflected little light. My hands were like torches each time they were placed onto the mountain, gripping each dark stone, and I threw myself upward with renewed vigor. The more I climbed, the more my thoughts grew morbid. Little voices at the back of my head— my voice, until it crystalized, materialized into a literal solid that weighed me down and tried to drag me back to the base of the mountain. You aren't going to make it. You aren't like your predecessor, Atreus. You're useless, unchosen, only picked through sheer chance. People you care about have died because of you. Justin is dead because of you, and he won't be the only one

"Fuck you," I snarled.

No more self-doubt. No more moping. I had to do this, come hell or high water. I clenched my teeth, buried my worries and kept climbing, occasionally destroying the miasma of horrible emotions that manifested around me. Given that my body wasn't real, I never actually got exhausted physically, but mentally?

When the gray finished covering my forearm, I reached… a place. My mind was so foggy that I had to sit still for a few minutes to keep track of where I was and what was going on.

This wasn't the summit, I would have needed to climb forever to get there, even at those speeds. Instead, I reached a flattened bit of ground that stretched for miles and miles. I'd always said that this place was wrong, but this one was truly strange. It was like a mishmash of painting styles had just been stuck together to create a whole in a way that made my head hurt, but there was a house in here. A small cabin surrounded by trees that weren't really there, but just drawn into the air. Why the hell would Mesprit know or care about a cabin in the woods? Was it a metaphor for something? Either way, the pull here was stronger than ever and I knew this was where I needed to go. That house? It was real, just like me.

There was an arch I needed to cross to get to the house. I could also go around it, but the world had a way to stretch or contract that forced me to walk through the structure. It was drawn in the same way everything else was, made of a bony white and adorned by traces of gold and green woven throughout the arch. I took a hesitant step forward and heard a gong, or maybe a drum that announced my presence. My eyes grew wet as soon as I made it through, and for a moment I felt like crying for a reason I'd forgotten. It had slipped my mind— barely sticking for a fraction of a second before I'd forgotten. Not grief, but maybe… nostalgia. Melancholy?

Legendaries, this was weird. I sniffled and wiped away the tears.

The answers lay in that house— I knew that to be true. It was the only thing in this damn place that looked like something I might see out of the real world and not some crazed artist's drawing. It was something that didn't fit. It wasn't born of this world or Mesprit's knowing, so it was the only possibility that made any sense to me.

My mind grew clearer and clearer as I approached the cabin until I finally returned to normal, or as close to normal as I could be given the circumstances. Being certain of it was impossible, but my mind was clear and I felt similar to how I'd been before entering Mesprit's mindscape. Out of habit, I tried to release my team before entering the house, but the Pokeballs on my belt weren't real. They were only imagined, just like my own self, and no Pokemon would come out no matter how many times I pressed that button. I placed my head against the wood, trying to see if I could hear anything, but it was deafeningly silent.

"It's not real. Open the door."

Look at yourself, so worried about danger when you can't die here.

It was a simple wooden door with indentations running up and down the surface of the wood. The handle was a little loose when I placed my hand around it, like a simple tug or push would knock it off the door.

It didn't. I slowly opened it, surprised to see it didn't creak at all, and a single room revealed itself to me.

But before I could even notice anything else, Mars was here with Mesprit, sitting on the floor at a coffee table with a cup of tea in her hand while the Legend hovered above it. My body moved before I even understood what I was looking at, my hand lunging for the girl's throat, but it ran through her body and hovered right above the table. I blinked and tried again to wrap a hand around her neck, but she wasn't actually there. This was fake— or maybe not fake, but not something I was capable of influencing, and Mars had the Red Chain with her. Mesprit's eyes were wide open here, but they clearly weren't themselves.

"Mesprit! Mesprit, can you hear me?!" I tried. No response.

"Here's the thing, Munchkins," Mars said in way too casual of a tone while she blew into her cup. "I understand that you've got a duty to the Big Guy, but you made the right choice. Isn't it so sweet to just have a little bit of fun with me?" Her head swayed from side to side. "You haven't been out of this dump for like what, hundreds of thousands of years? More? What's wrong with a little break? A few days tops?"

Frowning, I sat next to the two and let the conversation play out, ignoring how surreal and helpless it felt to watch this unstable girl talk with a literal God.

"Don't push your luck, human! I'm just considering my options, and I've never had options before!" Mesprit spoke. Their voice was duller than I'd grown used to, but the cabin shook as one when they did, color eating away at its edges and dissolving the wood before allowing it to even exist again, which was further proof that this home was… made through Mars. Was it significant to her somehow? There were no items other than furniture here, and for some reason, there was only a living room. It was quite minimalist. "Maybe you should do more to convince me."

"You're already helping her," I muttered in disbelief. Still no answer.

"Munchkin, you're already helping," Mars echoed my statement, sipping at her tea. "Eugh, what kind of drink is this? It's like drinking color— wait where did it even come from? This makes no sense. Anyway, what I was getting at is that… I get you, you know? You look to the Big Guy up top and he barely acknowledges you, if even that." Mars took a deep breath before continuing and placed her cup down. "I know Cyrus doesn't love me, you know? I know he never will, too, but I help him anyway because at least he talks to me. He's real in a physical sense, and he helped me with my memory troubles and actually raised me. But you? You get shoved in a lake for who knows how long, and you're expected to listen to His rules? Where does this guy get off, right?"

"Don't talk of Him this way!" Mesprit cried out. So small. So weak. Yet the Red Chain around Mars' neck pulsated. "All I wanted… all I wanted was…" they sobbed. "It's just so lonely here."

Ah.

I understood now. It had clicked.

The Red Chain was not a 'device' to enslave their minds. It always hadn't sat right with me, that literal Gods were capable of being so easily controlled with the right technology and dedication. It was made to dissolve Arceus' rules that were usually so ironclad, so etched into a Legendary's personality that disobeying them wasn't even a consideration. After that, push and prod at the right weakness, manipulate using the chain, and…

They still had to be convinced in some way, but it made them less concepts and more Pokemon.

Was the real Mars in a world of her own convincing Azelf right now?

"All you wanted was to talk to Him again," Mars said. "Feel the warmth of His words like you must have at your birth. Sucks that He's an absentee father, right? You know, there are way too many of those, it's like, what the hell, right? Where the dads at?"

"If you bring me to Spear Pillar," Mesprit muttered. "If you bring me to Spear Pillar, will you allow me to talk to Him?"

"Oh. Could I do that?"

I screamed again, tried to link my emotions to Mesprit, but nothing worked.

"It is His throne, you useless girl!" the Legend screamed, forcing both of us to cover our ears. Mars paled, crawling back a few feet while I fell to the ground and cradled myself as dread spread through me. "I will call out to Him there and beg for an audience. We will do that instead of your daft plan to end His Creation."

"Th—then sure," the Commander nodded weakly as the chain glowered. "Yeah, you can do that. Totes."

Lie.

There was a subtle way one could tell when I was lying or being untrue to myself. The smile spread across Mars' face was just as bittersweet and full of hurt as mine had been when I'd told my team I was fine shortly after my ankle had been broken in Pastoria. It twitched at its edges and was just a little too wide, just a little forced, because the truth of the matter was, Mars did feel bad for Mesprit's circumstances. And with the chain, Mesprit couldn't tell she was lying about her plan. She had no intention of allowing them to see Arceus— if He would even answer their call in the first place. His whole philosophy was to observe without intervention, but Mesprit wasn't thinking straight. They couldn't. Not after their mind had been altered so much from what it used to be.

"Fine. But make no mistake, I will be the one in charge! If you try anything, I'll condemn you to an eternity of sorrow in this place," Mesprit warned. "And there's something I must address about people who have part of me and my siblings' powerswait."

Shit.

The Legendary paused and stared right at me. To have those bright yellow eyes pierce through mine made me want to cower in fear. I didn't.

"She's here. My Shard."

It was at this moment, that Mars noticed me. Or at least Mars' echo. The redhead beamed, giggling as she threw herself at me with a hug. I tried to kick her away, but our bodies just went through each other just as they had before. Mars crashed face-first into the floor, causing the coffee table to rattle and her cup to drop, spilling colors all over the wooden planks and shattering the ceramic.

"Ow. Ow," she groaned. "Wait, it doesn't hurt at all, never mind! Grace! I can't believe you're here—"

"Mesprit! Mesprit, she's manipulating you," I tried. "Look at that chain around her neck! That's the Red Chain you and your siblings warned us about! You have to wake up."

"Hey! Don't ignore me!"

Mesprit squinted. "I don't see anything there. Why are you lying to me?"

Fuck. Fuck, they couldn't see it, of fucking course they couldn't.

"If she doesn't have the chain, then how would she have come here?" I asked. I had to find a hole in their logic, anything to get them to realize they were being tricked. "Think, Mesprit. This is still the same Mars! She wants to end the world because her ideals are the same as Cyrus'. She doesn't have a single independent thought!"

"Wait. How are you here, Mars?"

"You invited me, duh! We're pals!"

"Of course. I invited her."

"You didn't—" the grey was crawling up my arms and legs. I had to change strategies. "Damn it, okay. Think of it this way, Mesprit. You would do anything for Him, right?"

Each time I inferred Arceus' name, warmth spread through my throat.

The Legend tilted their head, floating up to me, and I did my best to stand my ground. "Of course, I would. I love Him more than you can even fathom."

"Don't let her gaslight you," Mars said. "She's way too good at it, I know her."

I bit down on my tongue before continuing. I couldn't see the anger building up inside of me here, but I knew it was present. Focus. "Mars would do anything for Cyrus too, and he isn't planning to let you meet your Creator. He's so fucking miserable he wants to destroy the world instead of trying to fix himself or taking himself out on his own."

"Hey!" Mars pouted. "You're lucky I like you! But I can convince Cyrus, Mesprit. Don't sweat the details— GAH!"

I had grabbed a nearby chair and thrown it in her face, and she cried out as the wood splintered across her fake, pale skin. Funnily enough, I couldn't touch her, but the things I threw at her made contact easily. Hearing the wood snap against her was like music to my ears, and I bent down to grab a piece of the chair that had split off.

"Shut the fuck up." I kept beating her, the stick coming down with each word. "Shut. the. FUCK. UP. I'm tired of you and your fucking attitude, like everything is an Ar— a game!" I turned back at Mesprit with a deep breath. "Do you remember when we first met, Mesprit? How important the rules were to you? Do you remember those?"

"The… rules?"

Now we were getting somewhere. I had to hone in on this.

"Yes! And all of the rules were put in place to protect His Creation, right? By going to Spear Pillar, you would—"

There was an impact at my side, but it was without pain. A dull hit that was strong enough to topple me and send me careening toward the coffee table. It split in two from my weight and Mars stood atop of me with one of the chair legs in her hands, grinning from ear to ear like she was having the time of her life.

"That was so fucking cool when you hit me," she moaned, hands tracing down the sides of her face. "We can hit each other all day in here and be fine!" She stomped on my head and I whimpered, trying to cover my head, but her foot only went through me. It was hard enough for the impact to bend the wood behind my head. "Wish I could touch you, though. Like I did at the Power Plant. This is kind of dull. What's the point of it if we can't bleed, you know?"

Arceus, she could still scare me. The way her voice wrapped around my ears and was so perverse terrified me like I was that little girl in her clutches again. I bit my lip, and quickly grabbed one of my Pokeballs, throwing it at her face at full force. She yelped, taking a step back, and that short lapse in time allowed me to stand up.

"When I get the opportunity, I'll fucking kill you and make it slow," I growled.

"Legendaries, I love it when you're mad," Mars wistfully sighed. "I wish we could hang out together more. Isn't this what sisterhood is all about? Wanna describe how you're going to do it? Are you going to pull my fingernails first? Oh, oh, I know! Break each finger!"

My body was on edge and ready to lunge at her once more. "No, you psycho. I want nothing to do with you."

Mars softly clicked her tongue. "Ah, see, Mesprit? She wants nothing to do with me."

"She wants nothing to do with you," they echoed.

The chain pulsed, and I tried striking at Mars again, this time with a sharpened shard of her broken cup, but she just weaved out of the way and beat it out of my hand with her stick. She had better reflexes than me and she could move unnaturally quickly. I'd lost mine when I'd gotten close to the cabin, but she was still so fast.

"And yet we're so similar," she continued. I attacked again to stop her from spewing her poison, but it was no use. When I couldn't catch her by surprise, she would always have the upper hand. The wooden chair leg hit my neck at blurring speeds, and I slumped to the ground, limp. "Doesn't that mean she doesn't want anything to do with you, either? And wait, actually! What is she even doing here?" Another two hits, this time on my back. "How'd you get in here, hm?"

"It's true that she has expressed disgust at my ideas and self time and time again," the Legendary agreed. "She is unworthy and squandered her potential. Champion by happenstance."

"Champion? Oh right, you were gonna tell me something about that earlier, I nearly forgot!"

Shit. Shit. Shit! Would the real Mars get all of this knowledge when this was said and done? Would she figure out that I was a shard? How in the hell was I even supposed to do this when the fucking chain was pulling the strings? When Mesprit wanted someone who was so different from me? Even when I'd met them at Lake Verity, they had said that Mars perfectly encapsulated who they'd wanted as a Shard. I had come into an uphill battle from the beginning, but this was just… unfair. The chain allowed Mars' lies to pass for truth when I couldn't lie, and she was like the damn favorite child among the two of us.

"As I said, she was chosen and has a fraction of my capabilities as Shard of Emotion."

"Oooooh, interesting. Emotional manipulation, sensing, what else—"

"Mesprit, please," I groused, slowly getting up. "Don't let her do this to you. Everything He's made, everything He's done is going to get erased. I understand that you're lonely. I understand that it's difficult, and that I haven't spoken to you much, but—"

Mars rolled her eyes. "Come on. You understand? You, the same person that's swarmed by friends who love her at all times, who has people to support her for every little itty bitty thing?" She laughed, lazily walking toward me. I expected another painless hit, but instead she just tapped wood on the floor. "Don't lie to my little Munchkin like that, Grace."

"And what do you know?" I hissed. "Just because you're in love with someone who doesn't love you back doesn't mean that you can understand a modicum of what being confined to a Lake is like. To only be able to prod and feel at its surroundings and to never be allowed out. You can't compare a few years of memory to an eternity."

"That's true."

"But between the two of us, I come the closest, big sis," Mars said, giggling. "Man, I've always wanted to say that!" Her face shifted quickly into a more serious one. "But you know, I've been wondering about loneliness lately. I mean, I have my Pokemon, but I can't shake the fact that there's something about them… like they aren't acting right, and Dusky's been hiding the subject of my memories since I woke up in that dumpster. And people? I don't have any of those."

The grey was up to my shoulder and chest, now. "Boo hoo, so what? I don't give a fuck about your pity party, Mars. Mesprit, you—"

"Let her speak. You'll get your turn, Grace."

Damn it, I did not have time for this!

"Saturn's a whining wacko who thinks I'm too unserious, but hey, honestly I think he's the obnoxious one, always taking everything so seriously." She paced around the room, using the wood like a walking stick. "Charon hates me for prodding at his dead sister all the time, and not only does Cyrus think I'm too clingy, he can't actually feel anything," she listed. "Juju… Juju's kind of like a fun version of Cyrus. She's the kind of person that's impossible to connect with— truly connect with. She could know you for a decade and she'd still shrug while you die in front of her. Hell, she'd use you as a damn shield too if it meant she could live a little longer! You know, I want someone a little more real. A little more tangible."

"Maybe the reason you can't connect to people is because you torture and kill them all."

"If they can't handle me at my worst, then do they truly deserve me? And if they don't deserve me, then they don't deserve to live either!" she yelled. "Anyway, this is where my pitch comes in. Do you want to be friends?"

"What?"

"Friends first, then siblings, I'm willing to take things slow for you. I follow you on social media you know? I watch your friends' streams every time you appear on them and I wanted to pre-order your merch, too, but they wouldn't let me do that. I'm your biggest fan!"

She wasn't real. She wasn't a fucking real person; who the hell thought like this? The fate of the world rested on our shoulders and this was what she was talking about? Really?

"I know it seems crazy, but I'm serious. I think you should join our side."

I laughed. "And why, pray tell, would I do that?"

"Because! Guess what? Your grandmother's dead!"

"Yeah. Okay."

"What? That's it?"

There was guilt, still, but… yes. That was it.

The Commander brought up her hands and stared at the ceiling. "That was so anticlimactic, I was waiting for the right moment to worm that into the conversation. Did you not care about her? Well, whatever, it's just an extra soul for Dusky and it's not like I expected that alone to work. Maybe I should have sent him after your friend's parents, that Denzel dude. Legendaries, his streams are so boring. You should have better friends. Like me."

I swallowed, but knew they'd fled like my own mother. "Mesprit, how long do I have to listen to this?"

"Until she's done."

"They probably weren't there anyway, huh?" Mars guessed. "I suppose I'll have to kill your friends one by one until you change your mind, then, since they'll be available. Maybe I'll start with Cecilia."

I felt cold as blood drained from my face.

"Or Louis! Or Justin— Oh. Oh!" Mars grinned. "That was a weird shift— is there someone else? Did one of your pals already die? Which one? Louis or Justin?"

"No one," I forced out.

"Only a matter of time until we get someone else," she mused. "Just for you, I'll make their deaths quick!"

My fist clenched, and Mesprit finally allowed me to talk. "I don't think you understand, so allow me to make myself clear. You can try and take everyone and everything from me. My friends, my girlfriend, my family— and you sure as hell won't succeed, but I will never join your cause. What you want is total annihilation." I pressed those words so Mesprit could hear, but I was running out of time. "If the opportunity shows, I will end you slowly and make you suffer as much pain as possible for what your Dusknoir's done to people. For what you've done to people…" Mathilda's words popped up in my mind. Dusknoir owned Mars, and the fact that Cynthia had just said she wasn't a human in the flesh lent credence to that theory. Was she one of the souls he'd eaten that he had taken a liking to?

Was she being manipulated? All of her life, she'd been basically groomed by Cyrus and a murderous ghost. Had they been the ones to turn her into what she was? Acting like they'd had no influence on her would be asinine of me.

I'd be sad if I cared. I'd told myself a long time ago, that there would be no second chances for any of the Commanders, and she was included in that no matter what her life had been like. The world would be better off with all of them dead. I knew she was stronger than me, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to go for the throat if she tried killing the people I cared about. I was, frankly, out of goodwill to give.

Mars rolled her eyes. "We'll see about that. It's easy to be all talk, but I'm sure little old me will find a way to make it just right."

"Die in a ditch," I smiled. It was a perfectly amicable one, too, and polite. The kind you'd show at a sponsorship interview. The grey was crawling up my neck. Mars being here was rattling me and making me waste time. "Mesprit, I'll ask again. I'll talk to you more— just like Mira does to Uxie, okay? And you can see the world through my eyes, right? Haven't I been entertaining to you? I mean, I feel you laugh at me sometimes."

"Maybe a little bit. And you live through a range of emotions far wider than this shell."

Shell. I remembered that Mesprit called Cyrus an empty shell, but Mars was one too? Not empty, though. The statement seemed to have rattled her, too, because for once in her life she was shutting the hell up. No, not shutting up. She clenched at her head and kept whispering to herself.

"Shell? No. No. No. I'm real. I'm real. I'm real. I'm real. I'm real. I'm real. I'm real. I'm real. I'm real…"

Pleasure coursed through my veins like I'd just been rejuvenated, and I let the savage smile take me. There was nothing quite like this. The feeling of victory over her, of finding what could possibly make her squirm.

"She's just a one-note girl that's trying her best to be interesting to you, but she can't be," I pressed, not shying away from Mesprit's stare. "Sure, she might be fun right now and allows her emotions to always guide her but isn't she just so dull?" I walked around the table, and Mars shied away from me. I wanted to hit her with something, but it'd be best to focus on Mesprit right now. "Always killing, torturing, and so gratuitously, I mean what even is the point, right? One murder is a monumental event, but a thousand? That's boring, and you know it."

I threw another Pokeball at Mars' head with all of my strength, for good measure, and she fell to her side. I knew for sure it hadn't been strong enough for that, but her body was totally limp.

"Where's the grit? The struggle? Isn't it more fun to be with me? To live with my inner conflict, my moral scruples and to laugh when I fail to be the person I want to be or to grumble when I succeed?"

"I… what is happening?"

"You know, I'm a big fan of movies and shows. Always have been. It allows me to live through eyes that aren't mine for a moment— to be transported into another world. I'm telling you that watching a show where the protagonist never changes, always does the same thing episode after episode gets boring after a while." I pointed a thumb at Mars. "I couldn't imagine being stuck with a girl like her. She doesn't understand change because she's not human. And Humans are His sacred creation, aren't they?"

"Right. She is a shell. A puppet capable of independent thought, but only built for a single purpose," Mesprit calmly declared. "Mars, I hereby declare—" then, their eyes stared into… into nothingness, like there was something there that also wasn't.

"Mesprit?"

"My sibling is… you have to go."

There was a pull, as if the world itself was sucking me upward. I screamed, my hands desperate to cling to anything to keep me grounded, yet everything I touched dissolved at their seams into puffs of color. Gravity pulled me up through the roof and the little amount of resistance I'd been able to offer just died.

The world around me collapsed, shriveling into darkness, the last thing I heard being Mars' disbelieving words. No, no, no! I hadn't had enough time— I hadn't found the right words, I—

My eyes shut tight, and I breathed shakily. It had been so close. How the fuck could they just kick me out like that? How was I supposed to free them if they could just do that? Damn it. Damn this fucking job, I hated it! I hated this responsibility, hated that I had to see that crazy girl and I'd been completely incapable of harming her.

Lake Valor unfurled around me, and I screamed, falling back on the paved road. In front of me was Dusknoir, wisps of smoke barely visible through the monochrome world he had wrought. There were screams, but the ACEs didn't panic, redirecting their attacks toward the ghost. Lucario grunted, exuding blue light through every inch of his skin. He'd been the one holding Dusknoir back… Maylene and he had saved my life. Hands dragged me back, and I recognized the arms as Maylene's, and holy crap she's strong. She was lifting me like I was a feather. It was almost disorienting, to be back in the real world after spending what felt like hours inside of Mesprit's head, but from what I could see only a few dozen seconds had passed here at most.

The barrier around Mars had cracked, five of her psychics were slumped on the ground unconscious, and she seemed completely oblivious to the conversation I'd had with her other self. I had no idea if me almost convincing Mesprit had something to do with that, but… it didn't even matter.

Azelf was floating high in the sky, around a hundred feet away.

Mars had convinced him using the chain faster than I'd been with Mesprit. Dusknoir was disintegrated by the flurry of attacks and was actually about to die. The ghost could barely hold himself together and Lucario was using some kind of aura prison to keep him still and away from me. Dusknoir's edges shivered and his stomach desperately tried to open, but it was no use. Mars raised a Pokeball and an ACE's Donphan instantly lifted a pillar of earth to prevent her from recalling Dusknoir, but—

My head.

Everything felt so pointless all of a sudden. My body slumped against the ground as Maylene dropped me, but I didn't even register the pain from bumping my head against the asphalt road. It was like I was just… floating there, unable to think. My body felt weightless, and I could barely register the touch of the hot ground against my skin. The only thing I was capable of was staring at the sky and reveling in this feeling of sheer loss. There was a flash of red at the corner of my vision and the shattering of glass— of a barrier, but I could barely pay attention to the sounds surrounding me. It took another ten seconds to be able to think of anything at all.

This wasn't Azelf's work. This was Mesprit's. Not the sapping of willpower, but the imbuing of lassitude.

As for Mars? She was gone, along with Mesprit and Azelf. She'd left her cohort of psychics and grunts here, possibly because she'd needed to sacrifice some to get away unscathed.

Shit.

I'd failed.

"Are you okay?" a voice behind me said. "Sorry I— I dropped you, I just felt totally…"

"Defeated, I got it too," I sighed. Even as a Shard, I hadn't been able to resist… hell, Cynthia had gotten her bearings before I had, apparently, given that she was already ordering people around. "I failed to stop her." My hands hugged my knees. "I fucked up, I'm sorry. Mars was faster than I was."

For a moment, there was silence, and I expected an outburst. "It's… well, I don't know if it's okay, but you tried."

Arceus damn it, yell at me or something! I desperately wanted her to, yet nothing else came except a few ACEs, then Cynthia to ask me what I'd seen. She had relayed disclosing the existence of this Legendary to everyone who had been here to Lucian, from what I understood. There were so many questions they made my head spin, and by the end of it, the League was trying to give me a blueprint for 'next time' I tried to talk to Mesprit if there was even going to be a next time…

I had to fight. I'd said no more moping, damn it, no giving up. There was too much at stake to just put my hands up and give in no matter how much I wanted to. Things were going to move faster and faster from here on out.

Think of it like a battle, Grace. You're behind right now, but that doesn't mean it's over.

Mars had apparently not escaped unscathed. More than half her body had been… destroyed before she Teleported out, though Cynthia wasn't sure it actually mattered, given that she wasn't human. Hell, apparently from how many attacks hit her it was surprising that there was even some of her left. The way it might matter was that it could have her doubting herself like she had in Mesprit's head, and that was a weakness I'd quickly told the League about. A few theories were forming in Cynthia's head, one asking herself why exactly they hadn't made use of Azelf, and instead sacrificed the strength of Mesprit's barrier to blast us with that feeling of defeat and pointlessness. Part of me hoped me having come so close to convincing Mesprit had also helped them breach the barrier, but there was no way to be sure about that. Another explaining Mars' origins, and it involved her lost memory and the fact that Dusknoir might be able to just alter it at will or at least delete certain portions of it he found would do her more harm than good.

But Dusknoir was in his Pokeball right now. He'd been recalled to be saved, and I was sure Mars had questions for herself about why she hadn't bled to death or died from shock. So much so that we weren't actually sure she'd be able to actually pick up the slack and gain control of Uxie. Not everything was lost, after all, and something told me that if Mars still handed the chain to Cyrus, freeing Mesprit from him would be easier than her, given that he couldn't feel anything. They'd hate his guts, if they would even listen. It'd probably have to be another Commander. She might not even show up, really.

"Turns out I've been assigned to you permanently."

The wind swept through my hair and across the Lake. I'd been watching its surface to see if Azelf's absence had changed anything, and it had. The water was less smooth, now. Turbulent, with small waves forming due to the wind, and it wasn't warm like usual. Most of all, it was…

The feeling of willpower, that everything was going to be okay that filled people's hearts when they stepped close to the Lake?

It was gone.

Honey and Princess were at my side, along with Cass who hovered above us. I was petting the fairy's back while Electivire fiddled with his hand, which was now basically back at full capacity. Electricity would sometimes course through it as he practiced his control again.

I turned toward the voice.

"Sorry about that," I shrugged. "I really thought it'd be just for the Lake."

"Nope, it's gonna be for the entire day," Maylene sighed. She scratched her cheek and sat next to me, watching the water. "Well, I guess night, now. Sun's about to set. We'll probably be going into Mount Coronet together with your team of League-assigned ACEs soon."

"Hmhm." I slung an arm over my knee and bit my lip. "Hey, you— you saved my life earlier. Managed to catch Dusknoir before any of the ACEs could. With all the questions and everything, I never had a chance to thank you for that, so… yeah, thank you."

"Meh. Thank Lucario when he's done getting sprayed by Full Restores. I was just doing my job. What, was I supposed to just let you die and doom the world?"

"Yeah. I still appreciate it, though."

"Whatever you say." She shifted in place, her hand clenching around some grass. "You know, Dusknoir kind of attacked you out of nowhere near the end there even though he'd be risking his death. We thought he wouldn't show up, since it was so dangerous and he'd obviously die, or at least we thought so."

"Oh. He only showed himself near the end?" I licked my lips. "Might have been when Mars was having her identity crisis in there. Maybe he wanted to cut the entire thing short… but that would mean he'd know about everything that second Mars was learning in there, and that he was continuously linked to what she felt."

Arceus, how far did this go?

"Huh. I've got to say, their whole thing has got to be the weirdest trainer-Pokemon relationship I've ever seen." Maylene leaned back, using her hands to support herself and stare up at the sky. "Ready for the jump to Acuity? You'll see your friends there. It's our last stand."

"Hm."

"Do you… do you think we're going to make it?" There was a quiver in her voice, like the facade she'd been putting on was cracking. "Do you think this is it?"

"We've got to try, don't we? If I can get another chance with Mesprit, I can— I can get them to agree, I think. I just need enough time, but I don't know if I'll get it. They… connected a lot with Mars, you know? It kind of surprised me when it shouldn't have." My left hand hit the ground repeatedly, gently enough for it not to hurt. Honey grabbed it anyway and kept it still. "I mean, I know she had the Red Chain and that Mesprit normally would never have considered her words, but still."

"You know, I don't really care much for this Legendary bullcrap." Then, she scrambled. "I mean, I'm not telling you to shut up, or anything, I'm just saying that it's, you know, it's a little annoying to have everything depend on these three turds who are so old and powerful, yet have weaknesses that can be exploited. It's like… why even make it this way, you know? If I'm Arceus—"

There was a short exhale through my nose. Not a snort or a laugh, but close to it.

"No, I'm for real! If I'm Arceus, and I'm building the world, then why leave it this way? It's like you're asking for this to happen, and hell, it's the second time it's happened!"

"I'd say something, but I don't want to…" agh, how to say this? "I don't want the consequences to bite me in the ass later. Part of Mesprit's still in my head, even if they aren't paying attention."

"Hey, I'll say it for you. Arceus sucks and he's the worst at his job, and I think someone else deserves a promotion. Maybe me."

My lips tugged at their sides. "No comment."

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, yesnomaybeso, Sean M, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Tina M, Nova, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kolby, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Daruda, Mystic Corn, menirx, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Eric, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK--, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Dvn, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, Iepton, sqw4l, V4Ford, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M
 
Last edited:
Interlude - Character Study
INTERLUDE - CHARACTER STUDY

Huh.

When was the last time she'd gotten her nails done, anyway?

The question had popped up in Jupiter's mind when she'd looked at her fingers. They were a mix of blue and purple due to the number that ACE Trainer had done on her and now she couldn't even put her hands into a fist, let alone move them, and keeping them close to a fire type's warmth had only alleviated the frostbite. The pain was also bad, she supposed. It was a weird, numb sort of pain that was okay, but also annoying as hell? Not as bothersome as the ugly state of her nails, ugh. She was forced to look at them too, with how her hands were stretched next to some grunt's Camerupt.

They were all huddled up in a camp, this time off-route next to route 210, where all the fog kept them hidden well and they were close enough to Mount Coronet to access it when they needed to. The fog was so thick here she couldn't see ten feet in front of her, which made organizing this mess a whole lot of work that Saturn had to contend with, the poor guy, especially when he'd just lost his Crobat. A fun way to look at it was that he finally stopped being such a hard ass. So exigent that he reminded her of her old boss sometimes, except younger and louder, and he wasn't actually her superior no matter what he believed. Adrianna was honestly overqualified for her position, anyway. She should be above… well, maybe not above Charon, but above Mars and Saturn. No one had noticed her barely putting effort in, and even Cyrus had praised her for her 'usefulness'. If only he knew how useful she could be when she actually tried at anything. Too bad that had been way too much work, though.

Right now, the best Saturn had come up with was using their remaining psychics to link together to point them in the right direction whenever grunts needed to get somewhere else, because the fog never dissipated no matter what move they used. Not even Defog! It was little annoyances like that, that'd make someone go crazy. They'd sent a few scouting parties out east toward Mount Coronet, but those had apparently been shot out of the sky by a Salamence. There had been only one survivor, and they didn't exactly have men to spare. The goal had been to probe which entry would be the best to enter Coronet, but it looked like they'd have to go blind.

But hey, they had the power of Gods on their side, so that equalized the playing field a little.

"I think this isn't working anymore," Jupiter said before coughing. This fog was making it hard to breathe. "Thanks anyway, buddy."

"Anything to serve the cause, Commander Jupiter!" the grunt said. Her Camerupt neighed and flared up, happy to have aided in any way it could.

How predictable. At this point, you'd think all these grunts were the same person. It was like, get some new material, right?

"You hang tight, alright?" she smiled. Fake, of course, but she was well-practiced.

It was about time she visited Mars anyway, given that the kid wasn't doing great at the moment, and Cyrus had asked her to check up on her the last time he'd been doing rounds. Well, her and the rest of the Commanders. It was, after all, part of her job to keep them in line, and now that things had kind of gone to shit it was up to her to crawl down into the sewers that was her colleagues' brains and to unclog them as best she could.

It was still insane to her, that Cyrus' mere presence could raise morale to such an extent that no one here minded that there were only six hundred of them left. Way more Pokemon, of course, but the psychological effect of going from thousands of grunts to that meager number ought to have shaken them up a little more, right? Jupiter knew it'd be bad for their goals, but she kind of wanted to see the cracks form around the structure, just to figure out how they'd all have to fix it for the final battle. People were so fascinating when they were under pressure, but breaking them was boring. It was observing how they picked themselves up again, how they justified themselves to keep going even though the situation was a disaster, that was interesting. Not that the current situation was a disaster, it was more of a hiccup due to Mars' current mental state.

There was nothing like the human condition to get her going.

Jupiter stretched with a long groan, and she got going toward the south, where the fog was a little less dense. Occasionally she'd have the occasional psychic ping her mind to redirect her where she wanted to go, but she had Girafarig for that. They were one of the few psychics that couldn't speak. The most they could do was express emotions or feelings at her, but that didn't mean they were lesser, even if they hadn't evolved.

There was no yet at the end of that sentence. Girafarig simply shared the opinion that growing up into a Farigiraf would be inconvenient, given that they wouldn't be able to fit in an office or an apartment. She'd spent long looking up these luxurious condos out of Hearthome or Jubilife just in case they ever changed their minds, but being pet-sized was what Girafarig wanted, so it was what they'd stay at. Not that she'd ever be able to afford those condos or even live in them if she had the money, but it was fun to dream, right? Married with two kids, living in an expensive condo. Kissing the husband or the wife goodbye, driving the kids to school every morning, then going to work at a business she owned, where she could set her own schedule…

That'd be fun for a few months, at least. Maybe subtly abuse them, too. Make them feel worthless, like they could never meet her impossibly high expectations. Then she'd divorce her significant other when her children were twelve or so, just to see how it affected their development during puberty. How the fighting, the legal proceedings and the final separation would scar them in combination with that abuse, and how they'd grow up as a consequence of that. The way every single little flaw would be able to be traced to an event she'd begun. That wasn't why she was helping Cyrus, but hey, if she was getting an entirely new playground to build herself a sandcastle, why not?

Adrianna smiled. It wasn't going to happen, was it? But again, it was nice to dream.

Suddenly, Girafarig pulled her out of her fantasy with notions of interest. She placed her hand on the normal type's neck, and they— both the neck and the tail— pointed to her right toward a group of grunts huddled next to each other, sitting either on the ground, on ripped up bits of wooden logs, rocks or their Pokemon.

"What is it?" she whispered.

Girafarig's head nudged her arm and pushed her forward, so she decided to entertain them for the time being. The only good thing about this fog was that grunts rarely saw who was coming up to them, so they kept talking as she approached.

"Why are we waiting, still?" one said. A woman, with one of those sultry voices Adrianna liked. "The longer we wait, the more the League has time to recuperate and bar up Mount Coronet."

Was that why they'd nudged her? To stamp down this treasonous talk? Honestly, calling it treasonous was exaggerating, but she had to channel her inner Saturn. This was the kind of festering doubt she would have liked to see spread throughout the ranks, but if Cyrus got a hold that she wasn't doing what he'd asked, he would kill her. Literally. And he might still do it anyway, so she wouldn't be doing herself any favors. She hadn't gotten front-row seats to this whole deal to die before seeing if he was going to succeed or not.

A man spoke up, this time. "We have Mesprit and Azelf. They can't stand against our firepower, and the Commanders know what they are doing."

And that was the end of that. Maybe if she'd been born earlier she would have gone down to Kanto-Johto and joined Team Rocket instead of this bunch, honestly.

Hm, no, that was a bit over the line. None of Team Rocket's goals were as lofty as this. The people might have been a lot more fun, but their ambitions had been small.

"Are you accusing me of thinking the opposite, Devyn? Of going against our great leader Cyrus?"

Someone else spoke up, "He's just saying, you should watch your words. Doubt is the enemy."

"I haven't doubted!" she responded. Should Jupiter ask to sleep with her? Not like she'd say no… ah, never mind, they hadn't washed in a while, had they? Damn it, this job was getting on her nerves. "In fact, I hope I'm selected for the task force that storms Acuity, even if I won't make it back. I must serve the cause."

Noooo, come on, you sounded too pretty to just die like that.

"We should just rest up," a little voice said. Oh, oh, she recognized this one! They all turned toward her, their faces shadows within the fog. "Um… you know, it'd be best if we could perform at our highest level is what I mean."

"How's everyone doing?" Jupiter cut in, stepping behind Clara. The teenager jumped, shrieking like someone had just murdered her entire family in front of her, that drama queen.

"C—Commander!" The woman she'd set her eyes on stammered. She was as pretty as she sounded. "We're just waiting for the next step, ready as always!"

The rest echoed her words, each trying to outdo themselves with higher and higher fervor. Clara, or Grace Pastel the fourth just answered with a meager nod. Jupiter made small talk for a few minutes, mostly letting them boast of how loyal they were and how they hoped Cyrus knew how committed everyone was to the cause, but it wasn't them she was here for. It was Clara. She dragged her away to the side so they could talk in private. The fog had a way of swallowing and muffling sound.

Jupiter sized the girl up and down, patting her on the shoulders as best she could with her frostbitten hands. "Well look at you, alive and well!" she cheered. "I can't believe you survived Acuity, with Lucario eliminating so many of us. That Musharna of yours must be tough."

"She— she is," Clara whispered. "We've been together a long time, so…"

"Oh, that doesn't mean anything. I mean, you have people who've been with their Pokemon for over a decade, and they still die all the same. It was mostly luck, I was just being nice."

"Oh."

"I was on the way to see your boss, you know?" The girl froze within her hands. "But Girafarig here pointed me toward you, so I figured I'd check up."

"Is she— is she okay? There are rumors…"

"Oh, she'll be fine, she's a tough girl," Jupiter said, letting her go. "Rumors, though, huh. What do they say?"

Clara glanced to the side and fidgeted. "I'm not in trouble, right?"

"Speak your mind. It's the part about you I find interesting."

She smiled. Smiled! It was fascinating, how a mistreated individual would recalibrate their being enough to start enjoying backhanded compliments like this. Jupiter supposed that she was the only person who'd shown her an ounce of kindness, if she could even call it that. Positive attention was a better word, maybe. Clara looked around to check if they were being listened to, and then continued.

"Rumors are that she was horribly injured and that she's on the brink of death," the girl whispered. "And that she won't be able to hold onto Azelf and Mesprit for much longer."

"Must make you happy, huh?"

"Why do you… say that?"

Adrianna rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. Imagine your abuser, lying dead in one of our medical tents—"

"She's actually going to die?!"

"Well, no, but I did say imagine it. Now you ruined it," the Commander sighed. "But she's out of commission for a bit, and in this fog… you could escape, you know? Run away and get yourself out of here."

"No, I can't."

Damn. There hadn't even been a sliver of doubt in her when she'd answered. It was curious, how cults got you. Even she, who had been mistreated so much had been wrapped around Galactic's little finger, at the end of the day. Not because Clara actually believed in what they were doing, or because she was devoted to the cause, but because she thought that she was better off here than anywhere else. Maybe she believed that the government would extract her memories and kill her, which was… possible, but so long as she avoided cities, she could get pretty far with her Musharna. Hitch a ride on a ship, or something. Start a new life in another region. It wasn't like she was a Commander or Abel. Her face hadn't been plastered everywhere for people to see.

But at the end of the day, Clara wanted into this new world— this promise that had everyone looking up to Cyrus like he was their messiah. It worked so well as something to keep the organization together, moreso now that they had actual Legendaries to show for it, because it could be whatever you wanted! That was what was magical about it. To Jupiter, it was her being a business owner who permanently scarred her kids and family, but to someone else? It could be anything and everything. And who knew if she'd be let in, if she suddenly went missing in their most important hour? And given that Mars was wounded, maybe things were looking up for her and she'd never have to see her again until the world ended!

Yeah. That ought to be what she was thinking. And so, here she was, looking to defend those who had wronged her.

"When you imagine yourself in our new world, what do you see?" Adrianna asked her.

Clara smiled, as if she'd thought about this a million times before. Her only lifeline to comfort her when all she'd known had been torture, both mental and physical. "It's a little stupid."

"We don't judge here!"

"Well, the world doesn't change… that much. I'm just rich and I can send money to my parents so they can buy themselves a huge mansion, and I can travel the world without worrying about them." She giggled to herself, letting the smile linger. "Me and Musharna, staying at luxury hotels, eating good food, and seeing what other countries are like? Isn't that the dream?"

So you decide to help end the world instead of becoming a bank robber or something? Jupiter said, nearly guffawing to herself. Way to rationalize. She'd think they were alike, but there was a higher goal she was striving for, beyond the married life and all of that jazz.

"We also have this idea. Um, helping people through dreams. They kind of already study dreams in Unova, but not to help people, so I think we won't get sued. Our thing would kind of be like dream therapy. It was how I stayed sane when Mars hurt me. I would have given up, had Musharna not been here."

"Sounds like a grand old time," Jupiter said. What else to say, in situations like these? "I'm glad you've found something you want to do."

There. That was some nice filler. Arceus, she could go for a glass of red wine right now. Sinnohan wines were honestly all trash, especially compared to the Paldean or Kalosian ones, but she'd even take those. Their stock in their base had run out months ago.

"You know, Commander Jupiter, I have to thank you for always checking up on me."

Always? Twice meant always, now? This girl was so starved for normal human interactions that she couldn't even think straight. This was a well-studied phenomenon in human minds, though. People tended to start liking their kidnappers if they started showing them the tiniest bit of kindness, or their abusers every time they promised that they would totally change, this time, shortly after being the worst they'd ever been.

"Musharna's resting up right now, but she thinks the same. We won't fail you when the time comes."

"Well, it's part of the job," she smiled. "I've got to let you go for now, though, duty calls."

Dangling her dream in front of her seemed to have 'worked', though honestly Jupiter hadn't come here with that goal in mind. Her priority was Commanders, given Cyrus' orders. Morale from them would trickle down to the troops in time, and it wasn't like they were moving out of here until Mars got any better. Her emotions were all over the place right now, and she wasn't sure of her own existence any longer, so her link with Mesprit was weaker than ever. That meant that their barrier would easily be breached, if they Teleported into Acuity right away, and that was if the damn thing even got them there without killing them by Teleporting them in the ground or only half of their body. Anyway, the point was, dealing with grunts was Saturn's job. Jupiter wasn't one to enjoy crawling in the mud of low-level managing, she'd already done enough of that for a lifetime.

It took another ten minutes to reach a relatively flat stretch of ground where stone gave way to a thin layer of dirt. Places where they'd set up food stations, bathrooms with toilet paper alongside a river that went far up north, for good measure, but she would die before going to one of those makeshift stalls with no plumbing. Yeah, they never told you about how ending the world would stop you from accessing proper bathrooms. What she was looking for, however, were the medical tents, AKA, the tents where people were left to die slowly and painfully. They hung there like little islands of light between the darkness of the fog, with how each one had a lantern set up on the inside. It wasn't like they had any medical supplies to actually get them back on their feet, and even then, it'd take too long. The real number of grunts they had left was seven hundred and sixty-one, but a hundred and fifty of those were so hurt that they could barely move. They had to at least show that they cared for the grunts a little bit, and helping the wounded die slowly instead of instantly helped a little bit with that.

Honestly, if it was up to her she would have put them down already. What was the point of hurting with no hope of recovery?

Normally you'd see a higher ratio of wounded, but the League had helped them in that regard, with how lethal they'd been. Arceus knew they didn't have enough space to house any more, and they already had to cram the tents with people. Legendaries, she had this song stuck in her head… this weird jazzy tune because she'd thought about jazz earlier. Hearthome had the best music industry in Sinnoh, she had to admit.

The tent she was looking for was isolated from the rest and was set up far away from the river, which was good, because her reflection in the water might show how her make up was ruined and she couldn't ruin her day like that when she'd already complained about her nails. You'd think the fog would stop her from seeing it, but nope. The tent was by a cliff— or maybe calling it a cliff was too much. A hill with somewhat of a steep drop-off would be more accurate. Mars' Wigglytuff and Ninetales stood guard at the tent's entrance, whispering to each other about some nonsense. Probably worried for their trainer, if she had to guess. There were also two grunts who were part of Cyrus' personal guard, but they weren't allowed close to the tent without being burned alive. Mars' team could get very overprotective, but honestly Jupiter wouldn't allow those numbskulls anywhere near her either. They were the most like Cyrus, purged of all emotion. One of them had even blasted himself with dark type energy in hopes of emulating their dear leader. They saluted as they let her through, but she still had to talk to Mars' Pokemon.

"Hi there. I'm here to see Mars, talk to her a little bit. See how she's faring."

Wigglytuff swelled up a little, sucking in air while Ninetales just stared, her tails swaying from side to side.

"Come on, dude. It's me," she groaned, putting her hands up. "I won't make her any worse than she is now, I'm not that good."

She felt very warm all of a sudden, sweat bearing down her face and arms, and Legendaries, sweating in this uniform was uncomfortable.

"Okay, Ninetales, maybe good wasn't the right word to use here, but you get me, right? You aren't stupid. She needs support right now, and I'm willing to give it to her." Adrianna took a few steps forward, making herself as unthreatening as possible. Damn her and her overprotective team! Her Slaking would let an assassin through if it meant he could get an extra five minutes of sleep. "So, can I come in or not?" she said, looking at Ninetales. "These are orders from Cyrus."

Ah, that seemed to have done the trick. Warmth bled away from her, but she didn't miss the fact that this asshole of a Pokemon made her colder instead, not enough to be a health hazard, but just enough to make her uncomfortable.

"Tell you what," Adrianna whispered as she passed the two. "You'd make a good office worker, Nines. I'd applaud, but my hands are hurt."

The Commander asked Girafarig to stay out, stepped within the tent and looked at her colleague. Mars was in a sorry state. Her body itself was covered by a tarp, but constant, shadowy smoke leaked from under there as her limbs and other body parts grew back. Adrianna made note that her Pokeballs were sitting next to her head, but Mars didn't really have arms yet to release her team without help. Cyrus had asked her to watch for Dusknoir, and since she wasn't dead yet, well, she had to assume the thing was still in its ball. Would have been an anti-climatic way to go, she had to admit. Mars continuously shivered as she cried in silence, but she stopped when she noticed Jupiter had stepped into the tent. Adrianna had to stop for a moment.

It was the first time she'd ever seen that girl cry. How peculiar.

She crouched next to her. "How are you doing, Mars?"

The girl moved her nubby little arms, but they hadn't regenerated enough to wipe her eyes and snot. Jupiter did it for her, ignoring the pain shooting up her hands and how disgusting it was, to touch someone else's snot. Mars tried to formulate words, but she couldn't. Oh, her vocal cords were fine now, but she was sobbing so uncontrollably it came out like another language.

"Shhh, shhh," Jupiter said, stroking her head. Really, it was a way to discreetly wipe her snot off her hands masked as a gesture of affection. "You're fine, okay? I'm here for you."

"L—liar," Mars said.

"Well, it's the gesture that counts right? Don't be ungrateful."

"Shut… shut up."

"Sheesh, no threats of murder? You're getting worse." Jupiter settled next to her, sitting on the soft floor of the tent. "What happened? Any new visions?"

"Jupiter… what am I?"

"You're Mars, Commander of Team Galactic," she answered.

The redhead took a deep breath. Her hair dye was a little faded, now, revealing her true hair color at its roots, which was just a less vibrant and more natural red. Jupiter's was a dark brown, which was a little boring, but hey, she had to stand out as a Commander, and purple had always been her favorite.

"My time in Mesprit's world is trickling down to my memories, but it's fuzzy like a dream," she explained. "It gets clearer and clearer the longer I wait, and you know what Mesprit called me? They called me a shell, and Grace joined in and said I wasn't human."

"Well, that much is evident," Jupiter said, lifting up the tarp. Yeesh, that was disgusting, better not look at bones and flesh slowly reforming itself. Her nose wrinkled at that, and Mars broke down again. "Oh, come on now, I'm just saying! Isn't it great? You literally got sawn in half and you're still kicking! You can basically do whatever you want, right? I feel like it synergizes well with your other murderous activities."

"You— don't get it," she cried. "I don't know what I am, and it hurts. It's like something is wrong with me, I've never felt like this before, I—" she stopped. "Can— can you blow my nose?"

Jupiter acquiesced, using her cover to do so. Her hands needed a good wash when this was over. Good thing they were close to a river and she could get soap around here. Tarp was harder to blow a nose in than you'd think. It didn't bend well around a small nose like Mars' and it was a pretty nose, cute as a button. Jupiter was jealous of it, sometimes, and jealous of how the girl never gained any weight.

"Thank you. Imagine if your entire life was a lie? That you just weren't a person?"

"Sounds like a win to me."

"You wouldn't get it… plus, Dusky's at fault! He knows why this is happening. Where I come from. And he's been hiding it from me all along. He stabbed me in the back!"

Wasn't that obvious? He'd been the only one who remembered the past and who Mars used to be, after all. Sometimes it was just easier to pull wool over your eyes and convince yourself that the person you loved and trusted the most would never betray you. Jupiter should have brought a notebook for this. Keeping track of everyone and their quirks sounded like a fun hobby to pass the time.

"Well, he has," Jupiter shrugged. "What are you going to do about it? Talk to him?"

"Talk? Right now?" the girl bit her lip. "No, I can't! I can't, I can't, I can't! I'm scared, Juju, what if he can somehow scramble my memories or something?"

"So you think he's behind the memory issues?"

"It has to be him! He remembers," she hissed, squirming in place. Heh, Jupiter was talking to a torso and a head right now, like those models they had in high school. You know, I wonder how everyone's doing? She hadn't gone to any of her school reunions. Those had never struck her fancy. "...Juju, are you listening?"

"Yes."

Mars scowled, suddenly pushing herself up as best she could. "Liar! You fucking liar!" She wasn't very successful.

Adrianna tapped on Mars' forehead. "Swearing, now? That's new." She hummed. Mars had probably picked that up from Grace Pastel, given how impressionable she was. Her body was… in her late teens, or at least that's what it looked like. Mentally? She was barely thirteen at most. "Don't be a pest. I can multitask."

"What was the last thing I said, then?"

"Just, you know, rambling about Dusknoir and each time he's acted weird or cagey about your memories."

"Fine."

"So you're not going to release him to talk, then?"

There was a bit of hesitation. "Not yet, at least."

Good. Better report that to Cyrus ASAP before he got impatient.

Mars' eyes narrowed. "I shouldn't have answered that, should I?"

"Well, look, Mars." Jupiter pondered, wondering how to best approach this. "It's no secret that Dusknoir knows more than he lets on. Cyrus just thinks it would be safer for you not to let him out of the ball for a while. Get your bearings first, right?"

"Cyrus thinks that?" She perked up. "He's… not dismissive of me?"

She was so easy it was almost depressing. Dangerously perceptive, but Cyrus was her blind spot, as always. He was like a get-out-of-jail-free card, and those were never free. They cost a couple million at least.

"No, no, he understands completely," Jupiter continued. "He's willing to give you another twelve hours to get your bearings and all, but if you can't, Azelf will be given to Saturn and Mesprit will be given to Charon."

"Not to you?"

"To little old me? No."

"That's surprising. Cyrus trusts you the most."

If only you knew how wrong you were, little one, she thought with a smile. Once upon a time, maybe, but not anymore.

"Did you know, I saw him laugh for the first time earlier this afternoon?"

Adrianna snorted. She must have been seeing things.

Redirecting her attention to the conversation at hand, it wasn't like they could even use any but Mesprit at such high capacity at the moment due to using its gem, but being given a Legendary by Cyrus was a mark of pride that Saturn would never forget. Plus, Mars and Mesprit apparently just clicked in a way no Commander could with another Guardian, save for maybe Charon and Uxie, or at least that was Cyrus' theory. Now, the truth was, Azelf was going to be taken away regardless of what Mars said. There was no way Cyrus would have let all three guardians fall into Dusknoir's hands.

"Well, you know, maybe I'll get Uxie," she said, hoping to bury the topic. "Anyway, don't release Dusknoir any time soon, alright?"

"Okay. If Cyrus says so…"

"He urges so."

"I said okay!" Wisps of smoke billowed from under the tarp, cold and almost solid enough to squeeze around Jupiter's neck. Nifty, but probably impossible to control for whatever she was, and unusable once she was healed. "I hate this."

"Charon'll come and take a look at you soon, okay? He's a little busy. Last thing I heard, he was trying to see if he could tinker with the Red Chain and its power on Azelf, but from what I know it's not looking good."

Which meant that they were completely dependent on Mesprit, which meant again, that without Mars back in top form, they were never storming Acuity. They were running in a circle and chasing their own tails.

"So you're leaving already?" Mars croaked.

"Duty calls."

"I wish you cared about me."

"Come on, kid. I care about you in my own way. Or something."

"Not even Dusky cares… I have no one. No one is real with me and tells me the truth other than Grace."

Oh, he cared much more than she knew.

"Charon tells you the truth. You're just obsessed with the girl for no reason."

"Charon is different. She gets me. We had so much fun in that dream before she called me not real, I just wish I could go back," Mars sniffled. "I wish I was real."

So many seeds of betrayal could be laid here, but alas, that would screw her over royally. "I'll send Charon to check up on you and your recovery, alright?"

"Get out."

Jupiter rose back to her feet and left the tent, ignoring the glares from Wigglytuff and Ninetales piercing through the back of her head and the cold seeping through her uniform. That meeting hadn't gone very well, which screwed her a tiny bit. Okay, maybe not a tiny bit, more like a fuck ton, and she was doubtful Charon would pick up the slack. Her odds of surviving tonight had just gone down dramatically. That was the thing with bosses. They demanded the world out of you, and when you failed to produce impossible results, they either pressured you to work over time, which was what she was doing already, or fired you. Test or no test, Cyrus could have been a little more lenient with her, given what fired meant in this context.

"What a way to treat one of your oldest followers, eh?" she whispered to herself.

Charon next. He would be the hardest.

She spoke to Girafarig about Mars on the way to Team Galactic's most prominent scientist, or at least as much as she could say. Not even her Pokemon were privy to every secret. Theirs was mostly a partnership, although she had no doubt some did love her in their own ways. Some. Slaking was not included in that, but all respected her, at the very least, and that was all that was needed. A decade, she had poured blood, sweat, and— actually, no tears— into this team, training under Cyrus' wing. Late nights of him beating her Pokemon into the ground until they adapted and grew past their limits, until he molded her into the first Galactic Commander he'd wanted. Those days had been tough for her Pokemon. They bore no visible scars, but like her, the mental strain of pushing themselves every single day for so many years meant that they'd learned to go with the flow of things.

For the most part, at least. They had to, or they would have gone insane.

Jupiter looked for the man in question for nearly thirty minutes, but no one knew where he was. Supposedly he'd asked his Hypno to Teleport him somewhere he could get some fresh air away from the fog, and with his lungs, that was understandable. At some point, she decided that she'd had enough of just walking aimlessly while Cyrus was waiting for her, so she decided to look for Saturn instead. He'd be a nice way to ease into things, but he was almost just as easy as Mars, when it came down to keeping Commanders on a tight leash. Charon, blinded by his dead sister as he was, actually thought like an adult and did not worship Cyrus like a God. Adrianna wondered what both Saturn and Mars saw in him, sometimes. To love, one had to be attracted to personality, and while Cyrus' goals were not boring, his…

Well, he didn't even have a personality to make fun of. And his looks? The man looked a decade older than he actually was! His cheekbones were so high it looked like they were trying to jump out of his skin, and his face was thin enough to think he was starving at all times. He had no eyebrows, for Arceus' sake! He was like some cliche cartoon villain they'd put in for children to make fun of and hate. Adrianna really wondered what went through a man's mind, for him to consciously shave his eyebrows. Maybe it was a statement on how eyebrows were a huge part of how humans expressed emotions? Still, how extra. She'd never asked, but she already knew he would never answer.

She'd ruminated on the thought of Cyrus' eyebrows— or lack thereof— until she found Saturn leaning against a rock in the eastern parts of camp. This area was rougher than the rest, with little crags and bumps making it a bitch to navigate, given that she'd been standing and walking for so long at this point and she hadn't slept in over a day. He was brooding, and looking mighty depressed, she might add. Arms crossed and hunched up on himself, when he usually was so outgoing, bright and boisterous. It was strange, like seeing an old lightbulb flicker over your hallway when it had always been so dependable before. Usually he'd be whipping up the troops or giving a rousing speech about how this was their finest hour by now. A little bit too dictator-coded for her, she had to admit.

Guess I have to fix this one too.

Jupiter waved and plastered a bright smile on her face. "Saturn! Been looking around for you." When he didn't answer, she had Girafarig grab his attention by forcefully moving his arm. "I'm talking to you. Earth to Saturn. Helloooo."

"Oh. Hello, Jupiter. I'm…"

"You're brooding."

He clicked his tongue as she finally got close enough to see his face in detail. His usual grimace-scowl was gone, replaced by an expression bordering on the sad.

Maybe a joke was what he needed. He wasn't as simple as Mars, and she needed an easy way to slide into a conversation.

"Hey Saturn, you ever think about getting married?" Jupiter asked, stopping herself from giggling. "You'd have a ring? Get it? Wait it has rings, plural, shit that doesn't work."

Saturn barely reacted. He was just staring into the void, his eyes red even through the fog.

"Come on, what's with the long face?" Adrianna asked. As she approached, Saturn looked up at her and scoffed in disbelief. "What did I say? I admit, I had marriage on my mind because earlier I was thinking—"

"Jupiter, I just lost my— lost my Crobat," the man said in a half-groan, half-sob. "He was the first Pokemon I caught after Toxicroak…" then, a saddened smile. "Arceus, I remember it like it was yesterday. I was traveling through the Ravaged Path and—"

He didn't finish that sentence.

Jupiter's face fell, and she remembered that was supposed to hurt more than, say, being late for work or burning your toast in the morning. "Oh. Right." She cleared her throat, rubbing his back. "I mean, he'll come back, right? Wasn't that the whole point?"

"It still hurts. That horrid Champion… if only I was strong enough to exact my revenge."

It was funny, how the human mind worked. How one could do harm, kill, and expect no blowback in return. Truly, one could twist themselves into a pretzel with that reasoning, but Jupiter knew Saturn was not a creature of logic. He was loyalty, constantly pushing himself with hard work and sleepless nights, because deep down, he was still that insecure little boy whose parents thought he would never amount to anything, which was what she'd wanted to do to her own children, eventually. They had poisoned his mind so young, so much that he had started to hate the world in turn. Hate it so much he would rather see it gone than get a therapist.

Fascinating.

"Sure thing, pal. I was also thinking of impossible things earlier, like getting myself a million-dollar condo in a city." She giggled to herself and sighed. "No getting out for us, Saturn. Our faces are plastered everywhere."

"Is everything a joke with you?" Saturn sneered, pushing her off. It reminded her of a thirteen-year-old brushing off their parent and telling them they were fine. He was in his twenties, but he never did grow up, did he? He was still that snotty little kid she'd first met years ago. He looked right into her eyes. "This— this is serious, Jupiter! And I don't want to run away like some coward, with my tail between my legs!"

Ah, there you go. She had a foot in the door, at last.

"I know, buddy."

"Then act like it! Why is everything so banal with you? There's never a— you don't take anything seriously… damn it. Not even Cyrus' goal."

"Oh, I take it very seriously, otherwise I'd be gone by now. Maybe to Alola. They take all kinds of people, though I'd have to work again, which isn't my idea of having a great time, and now that we've caused the deaths of ten thousand people or so, I'd probably have to suffer through a few attempts on my life, which is quite the bother, and society despising me." Adrianna crouched, looking at her frozen hands and smiled to herself. "Aren't I sounding like Abel, now? That poor bastard. Wasn't he cute, you think?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Come on, you're one of the fruitiest guys I've known." She nudged her chin forward. "Look at you, rocking those tights. And the way you walk in them? The way you look at Cyrus? You aren't fooling anyone."

Saturn grimaced, the bridge of his nose turning a little red. "I don't! We just share a common vision, you sex-crazed lunatic," he hissed, wringing his hands together. "You're awful for even suggesting that."

"Come on, man, live a little! It's the end of the world, so what else is there to speak about?"

"Our plans, for one!" he yelled. "How is Mars doing?"

Now she was in his house. Perfect. He'd let the Mightyena in.

"Okay-ish," she lied. "I think she'll be fine if we give her a little bit more time and Cyrus swings by, which is what I'll be telling him. What should I tell him about you, I wonder? You know he could use some good news."

Her fellow Commander froze in place. Words were so… powerful, it was gripping how one could imply a threat with a phrase that might seem completely innocent to an outside observer. Now, what would he say?

"Tell him that I am doing very well," Saturn finally answered. "And that I am ready for our next phase of operation— me and all of our grunts. We're at the final stretch, and I won't let anything stop me now."

"What about your Crobat?"

Saturn smiled. "He'll be back. That's just another reason why we have to win this, isn't it?" His shoulders relaxed, and he sighed, the tension leaving his entire body. "Thank you, Jupiter. I needed that."

It wasn't everyday someone thanked her for being manipulated, but she could get used to it. Not her best work, she had to admit, she hadn't really been subtle about it at all. The kid was just so doe-eyed for their leader that he hadn't noticed. But that was Saturn, right? Anything for Cyrus, except he actually meant it, unlike Mars who had to constantly be held on a leash and be given concession after concession, lest she go wild and cause a catastrophe. Well, her and her ghost.

"Anything to help a fellow Commander," she lied. "And hey, if you ever need to kick back and relax, look for me. I've got this grunt— Gail. She's got this pack of cards with her that we can play."

He blinked. "I don't think this night is one for cards."

"Hey, I was just asking, but fair enough," she shrugged. "You talk to Charon though, okay? I might send him your way, when he's done with Mars. He's always had a soft spot for and your…" she gestured at him. "Character. Oh and also, do you know where he is?"

She didn't see what even was the thing Charon saw in him, given that they had little in common besides their share of love for organizing this ragtag group of societal rejects. Maybe that was enough, though. They were, after all, two deeply lonely men, and Saturn never brought up Charon's dead sister and let him talk about her first whenever that struck his fancy. Mars did it nearly every time they spoke, and Adrianna only rarely alluded to it, just out of curiosity for his circumstances and all. She knew, however, that she was difficult to connect with, and Charon knew about her altering herself with the help of her Delcatty. It was admittedly difficult to talk to someone like her when you knew the inner workings of her mind.

Saturn placed a hand on his chin. "He could be anywhere by now, with how Hypno knows the region so well, but knowing him, he might be hiding in plain sight."

"Really?"

"Yes. He would announce to the world that he's Teleporting away, but actually stick around. I believe he might be north, where the fog is denser and no one would find him. His sister…" Saturn stopped, lips thinning.

"I'm in a bit of a hurry here, buddy, so if you could get to the point?"

"Sometimes in his youth, he would take his sister to skip stones in parks," Saturn said. "It was a way to escape from their father, who—"

"Yeah, I don't need to hear the sob story. Abusive parents, how original. So he'd be up north if I followed the river?"

"...sure."

"Gotta get to it, then," she whispered to herself. "Thanks for the help."

Saturn too, was getting back to work instead of skulking. Good. The grunts needed a leader to look to, and she had to admit that this person had always been Saturn, if it wasn't Cyrus. She got going through the fog again, constantly attempting to flex her hands as she did so. There was a subtle annoyance at navigating this area that could drive someone crazy, it was incredible, how the government hadn't gotten rid of all this fog already. It was, according to Cyrus, a lone Honchkrow's doing who'd been alive for who knew how long (he had described in a very poetic and moving way that she could not be bothered to remember), but it was their job to make her life easier, wasn't it? Otherwise what had her years of paying taxes even done, other than funding yet another stadium or paying some corrupt cop's salary? What if she sprained her ankle on a groove in the stone she failed to see in time, or even died from hitting her head on the ground after tripping?

She snorted. That one would be kind of funny, she had to admit. Girafarig looked up at her— the tail, who was all smiles and sharp teeth. His name was Jonathan, which he hated. It was a little bit of a running joke, but she rarely called him by his actual name. The head's name was Tom, or Tommy for a cute nick.

"Oh, nothing," she said, waving a hand. "Just imagining silly ways to die is all. I had this mental picture of myself tripping and just fracturing my skull."

No laugh came from Tom, but Jonathan had learned to appreciate her humor, over the years. This far north in their camp, sometimes Girafarig would warn her of a Pokemon, lurking in the shadows, far before she could even catch a glimpse of them. Pokemon here were generally more aggressive and were willing to try out their luck in the fog they'd learned to navigate since birth to get their next meal, which was why grunts were grouped in little islands of light and activity with their Pokemon. Adrianna was just a lone woman, swimming in the middle of the ocean and surrounded by Sharpedo.

She never saw them fall unconscious. She did hear them, though, and occasionally come across their bodies. She technically could have killed them, but she figured that an hour or two from now when they woke up, they'd spread the word about not bothering the giant group of people who were armed to the teeth with Pokemon. Or not. Jupiter had never really been interested in how wild Pokemon worked, given that she'd rarely traveled in the wilderness unless Cyrus had dragged her there.

And really, killing when it was unneeded was so… crude.

"Okay… Charon… Charon…"

It was the coughs, that allowed her to track him down first.

Team Galactic's top scientist was usually easy to find, always working on some project in his laboratory, but today, he was subjecting himself to this horrible fog, throwing stones across the lake. Stones that, she might add, he could not see how far they went or how many times they skipped, so what was the point? He'd never been an outdoors kind of guy, always holed up in whatever project Cyrus had assigned him at the time, deep inside the base, hidden away from all distractions. Sometimes they barely saw each other for weeks at a time, and given that she suspected the old man was currently dying from some kind of lung disease, with how he routinely coughed up blood, it was obvious that he wouldn't be able to breathe if he was subject to Honchkrow's dense fog. His health had deteriorated these past few weeks and he refused to get himself checked out by a health professional. None of them remained right now, but he'd had time.

Yes, yes, none of it would matter if they won et cetera, et cetera. It was honestly a boring way to think, but these poor sods had nothing else to go off of. It was their only lingering hope, so Adrianna wouldn't really hold it against them.

Girafarig held her steady as she stepped down toward the river bank. How funny was it that she had nearly missed the guy because she didn't want to see her reflection in the water? He had no Pokemon with him, save for that Porygon Z who was always on a device close to him. From the Basculin's… corpse? Unconscious body? Having washed up on shore, it was good enough of a protector, otherwise Charon might have bled out with a missing leg by now.

Eh, maybe not a missing leg. That Basculin looked pretty small, but he definitely would have bled out.

"I've been looking for you all over, Charon."

No mentions of Cyrus too soon, this time. He was smarter than that.

The man coughed before turning toward her with an expression fit for a grouchy Gumshoos. "It was only a matter of time until someone disturbed me," he said in between the coughs. "What do you want?"

"I want you to do what you were hired to do?" she said, slightly incredulous. "You know, your job? You aren't paid to just stand there and skip stones."

"I'm not paid at all."

We pay you in exposure, Jupiter thought, shutting down the joke before it could come out of her mouth. There was no use in pretending to care, with him, but she still couldn't be completely tone deaf.

"What's wrong, Charon? We've been successful enough to nab two Legendaries out of their lakes, and you're having a little pity party?"

His jaw clenched, or at least she thought it did. It was hard to tell, even from up close. "I am thinking."

"Thinking of what? Besides your sister, I mean, because we've treaded that path a thousand times before." And I'm tired of hearing about it. "Cyrus asked me to tell you to check up on Mars. You know, to figure out what exactly she is."

"That should be obvious to anyone with a brain by now," he gruffed. Another coughing fit, and he took a deep, raspy breath full of phlegm. "I've suspected this for a while, but she is the… remnant of a soul, or a piece of a soul." He placed his hands behind his back, all professor-like. "As for what that means, well, it apparently means she cannot die easily."

"But she can still die? Won't she just come back like a ghost type Pokemon?"

Keep him talking. Keep him engaged in conversation, because explaining things was something Charon loved, until she could pivot and get what she wanted.

"Oh, you misunderstand, Jupiter, she's no Pokemon. She is still a person, and only ghost type Pokemon can come back from the dead," he sagely spoke. Then, he waved a finger. "No, she can die, but it would take a lot to put her down. The real question is, how the hell did Dusknoir come up with this, and why?"

Jupiter was curious, for once, but she knew Cyrus already had the answers. "I don't know much about him. He's a recluse."

"It is a monster, a horrible one," Charon muttered. "But you know what piques my interest, Jupiter? What really interests me?"

"Tell me, O wise one."

Yikes. That didn't go over well, she should have shut up. Still, Charon continued. "When one thinks of a Dusknoir, what do they picture?"

"There are stories about it. An endless hunger for souls, reapers that commit murder on a massive scale until they're chased away, and that only care about growing their own power, everything else be damned. Way to overgeneralize, by the way."

"Mars' Dusknoir… does eat as many souls as he can, but why would a Dusknoir keep that pest alive? Why would he keep her, knowing how much of a liability she is? Stay here knowing that he would have to eat fewer souls that he would have if he was not a part of Team Galactic?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"I've pondered this for a few weeks. Looked at it from every different angle, parsed through mad theories and common sense." He looked at her, a gleam in his eye, shining through the fog. "What would drive a ghost, who, for all intent and purposes, has not weaned his hunger for souls, to pause its own growth. The answer to that is—" he coughed again. "—love."

Jupiter snorted. "How cliche. Also, please cover your mouth when you cough."

"Mars is not a human. We both know this, by now," he said. "But she is real. An echo of a person who once was, or a fragment of her. Facets of her personality, but not a whole. Not yet. And maybe she never will be."

Adrianna hummed. "Ah. I see it now. The shape of it."

"It is similar to my own. There was, at some point, a terrible loss of Mars and her Pokemon. Maybe she struck at the wrong person or Pokemon, and they were more powerful than they expected," he theorized. "After all, this is a portion of her, meaning that she would share similarities with the whole and have parts of her personality. It would not surprise if she'd been a murderer in her past, just simply more nuanced about things and not so crazed."

"An actual person."

"Now, Dusknoir remains— or maybe at this point in time, he is still a Dusclops," Charon said. "The first souls he ever imbibes are the ones of his own team, and he is careful. He preserves them as best he could, but it is not enough. He cannot preserve them like this, and they are fading, ever so slowly."

"So he eats more."

The scientist nodded. "He gorges himself on as many souls he can until he evolves, and he finds his control to be so much greater now, and he vomits out… whatever Mars and her Pokemon are." He smiled, as if agreeing with himself. "Now, most of this is probably wrong, but like you said, there's a shape to this that is correct. A shape not unlike what I am doing."

"For a while, he probably tried to bring them back the natural way," Adrianna said, thinking. "A few years, maybe, but it doesn't work. They aren't the same. Never the same."

"The question remains, how did Dusknoir and Cyrus meet?"

It made sense now. Why Cyrus had been worried about Dusknoir.

Their goal was not aligned. It simply was not. Charon only wanted to bring his sister back from the dead, but years of working under Cyrus had bought him loyalty and trust, and so he was content to let him take the reigns. To let him create his new world, so long that his sister was in it, a girl he had raised himself and considered his own daughter, given the wide age gap between the two. She'd been an accident.

Dusknoir had no such loyalties. He did not need the world to be turned to ash and molded to Cyrus' liking, only to bring his teammates back.

Adrianna smiled.

How interesting.

"When Cyrus found Mars, she told him that she'd woken up in a dumpster without any memories of who she was or what she'd been doing here," Charon said. "Both he and Dusknoir raised her together into what she is today, groomed her to their liking, but… I have to wonder." He paused, grabbing onto another flat stone to throw into the lake. "Was that the first time Mars had been born, or not?"

"You'd have to know how old Dusknoir is, and even then, maybe that wouldn't help. And you know, there's still the question of why he's holding onto her memories this way. Can he even give them back? Is he not good enough, is the soul too damaged?"

The older man sniffed. "I suppose I could go and take a look at her. See if I can get any answers."

Boom, baby! Hot damn, she was so good at her job it was incredible. Igniting his passion for the unknown, his need to have his answers had worked.

"I think that'd be best, yeah."

His eyes swept the river. "You know, I was thinking to myself, when I was alone here, about the cost of all of this. The horrors we've wrought."

"Don't get second thoughts now, at the final hour."

"These aren't second thoughts. I am as committed to the cause as I've always been, but dying does something to a man. It changes the way he thinks," Charon said, throwing the stone against the water. Jupiter heard it skip maybe five or six times. Mediocre, all things considered. "I've come too far to balk now, but… would Marie forgive me, for everything I've done? Would she thank me, for bringing us back together? The answer to that is no."

"Well, she won't have to know."

"I think I will tell her, when she's born again," he whispered. "That I will come clean about the billions of lives it took to bring her back. It will kill her, it will, but we will have an eternity to heal, and she'll have her family with her again to help. Joshua and Mira."

Joshua must be the husband, then. The one who had been driving during the accident. Not that it was his fault, given that they'd been killed by a drunk driver.

"Yup. Immortality's fun."

She didn't really believe that. Sure, an early, anticlimactic ending sucked, but the fact that their lives had an end at all was what gave everything meaning.

And they'd all end very soon. The end to everything that had ever lived, and everything that ever would live. Tragic, in every sense of the word, especially when none of it would come back, them included.

"Well, I'll let you go and check up on Mars, then," Adrianna smiled. "Oh, and also, Saturn needs some company, if you have any time after that. Let Cyrus know everything you discover, okay?"

When she reached flattened ground with Girafarig, Jupiter stretched and prepared herself for the coming meeting with her boss.

Once upon a time, she would have been nervous about meeting a superior. Were her numbers correct? Maybe she should run them one more time, just to be sure. Did she look presentable, was she making eye contact for too long, not long enough, would the bad news set him off, would she be fired, how would she pay her bills, would she be able to make rent on time this month—

The usual spiel when working a job you hated at a black company.

Today, it was more like… would she be able to survive through this? And honestly, she preferred it this way.

"Cyrus."

He stood there, hands behind his back as always like a little schoolboy, with Mesprit and Azelf by his side. The two were pretty incredible to look at, even if they were asleep and in a dream-like state. So much power radiated out of them that it was difficult to even be in their presence or look at them for more than a few seconds at a time, and that was when they were asleep. Of course, they were still under Mars' control, though they would have to be given to someone else soon. To be honest, Jupiter reckoned that Azelf would fit mighty well with Cyrus, but the man despised Legendaries so much he did not want to link his own self to what he considered putrid.

Well, maybe despised was the wrong word, for an unfeeling man. He simply thought these concepts that held themselves above him to be unworthy of himself, and so he would not take control of them until the last possible moment. It would be faster, this time. Less convincing, and more of a passing of the torch. Even if that torch would burn out faster, when in his hand, it would be enough to summon Dialga and Palkia to appear and craft a new world after ending this one.

"Adrianna," he responded as she recalled Girafarig. Again, this would need to be private. They were alone, in an isolated part of camp that Cyrus had claimed as his own.

Always Adrianna, when they were alone. Their connection went beyond her name as a Team Galactic Commander. They had met long ago, in Snowpoint, when he had come to visit the outside of the temple that apparently housed a terrible horror he had read about, but the government hadn't let him in. Before he could leave town, he had wrapped her around his finger and had her eating out of the palm of his hand, so much so that she'd thrown caution to the wind and asked to travel with him.

Back then, Skitty had not finished altering her fully, and she'd been young. Naive. And there was something about an unfeeling man that made someone desperate to become the key that would unlock his heart. It had not been love, or even close to it. They'd never even been friends. It was more of a fascination with the man's behavior and quirks that she'd never been able to shake, even now.

"How's it hanging?" she asked. "I visited each Commander—"

"You know, Adrianna," he interrupted, turning toward her. Empty eyes and a face unmoving. "When we first caught Mesprit and Mars brought back our remaining forces, before she went to Lake Valor, I had her order the thing to make me feel something."

Jupiter's eyes widened. "How… was it?"

"It worked well enough," he mused. "I was given a wide range of emotions and tried experiencing what that meant, but at the end of it all, do you know what I thought?"

"That it was awesome? Did you shed a tear for the first time?"

"No, it was not 'awesome', as you call it. I thought, 'is that it?'"

"Huh. That was unexpected."

"I did cry. I did laugh, even. Feel a thousand things that had forever been beyond my reach. However… it was disappointingly, not earth-shaking as I believed it would be, in my youth. I cannot believe I wasted years chasing this, when it ended up being mediocre at best."

Yes. Back when Cyrus had been obsessed with fixing himself and learning why he was like this, when he'd wanted to find a cure to his woes instead of deciding it was the world, that was wrong, and not himself.

"At the very least, I now know that this path I tread is the correct one. That there is something fundamentally broken about this world that must be addressed." Cyrus gazed upon Mesprit and shook his head. "There have been so many disappointments, lately. Even besides the obvious, the failure to stand up to the League without the help of these so-called Gods, my Commanders only follow me for selfish measures. Saturn is the closest to getting it, but even he is not enough. His is a shallow understanding."

This was leading to dangerous territory, but better get this out of the way now than delay the innevitable.

"Charon knows about Dusknoir, or I guess he knows part of it. Most of what he said was new to me, too," she explained. "Mars distrusts him and something tells me that doubt isn't going anywhere unless you do something about it."

"I will not."

"Oh. Yeah, I figured."

"The situation being like this is in my favor, given that Dusknoir was planning on betraying me," Cyrus said, tone as smooth as polished stone. "I had told him that Mars would gain access to all three guardians, and he was never going to allow me to turn the final page upon this world."

"So he's going to stay in his Pokeball forever?"

"No. I'll let Mars release him. He will still be needed in the coming fights, but it will have to be after we begin our ascent up Coronet, when he will cut his losses and follow me regardless. The League will be high on our tail and attempting to wrestle control away from Saturn and Charon will risk too much."

"Makes sense. I guess that means Uxie's going to Charon and Azelf's going to Saturn, then."

"Correct."

Then, there was the pivot.

She noticed his Crobat, hiding at the edges of the fog, barely out of view. The beat of her wings was so silent, the air around her undisturbed despite how quick she was, and how quick she could be. The poison type loved him more than anything, but that feeling was not mutual.

"You know, Adrianna, once upon a time, you told me that the reason you were following me was to kill that co-worker of yours. She is now dead," Cyrus said. "The rest of the Commanders, they all have their reason. I know how to push their buttons, make them do what I want them to do, but you… you are a liability, now, and I know you have figured me out."

Oh, that last bit had been unexpected.

"You need me for Coronet," she shrugged, not feeling particularly panicked.

"If I have Mesprit and Mars at full capacity, I do not need you for anything. You would be insurance, but insurance I would be willing to part with."

"Fair enough."

"You know my true goal, don't you?"

Adrianna rolled her eyes. "I suspected it," she started. "I mean, it's you, Cyrus. I can't imagine you suddenly growing a heart and giving all of these people what they want with the power of two Gods at your fingertips. You're too selfish for that. You don't give a crap about any of them or their dreams."

"Crobat."

Suddenly, she could not breathe any longer. The inside of her mouth, her throat and her lungs felt like they were itchy, at first, then like they were on fire, and one did not have to be a medical professional to know that was bad news.

"I did— did it all like you asked. Made sure Mars wasn't getting any second thoughts and that Charon and Saturn were still motivated enough for what's coming." She coughed, poison seeping through her lungs as she collapsed on the floor. Her head bumped a rock and felt hot. Blood. Ow. "I—" she rasped. "I'm—"

He loomed over her, his eyes never changing. "Tell me why you follow me. Why you have not run away, or betrayed me. Why you do not care the new world will be mine and mine alone, and that you will die as the rest of them will."

"I—I'll tell you." Her muscles twitched uncontrollably, and her vision blurred at its edges. "Let me… talk."

Crobat screeched, and the poison left her lungs immediately, as if it had never been there. The pain was still present, though, and it hurt like a bitch. It was a thin, torture-friendly version of Toxic that Adrianna had watched Cyrus use multiple times over the last decade. It took a minute for her to get her bearings and to remember how to move. That and her body stopped convulsing at random intervals. You wouldn't believe how difficult it was to move after nearly being poisoned to death, but thank Arceus Cyrus' Crobat was a master of poison. A silent assassin. She could harm, but she could also heal from poison in turn.

She wiped the dust off her uniform and wiped the blood off her forehead. She'd need to get first-aid for that. "Did you have to lead with that? You're such a drama queen." She was still short of breath and struggling to stand upright. "Frostbite, and then this? You're working me to the bone."

"Tell me, Adrianna."

The Commander looked into his eyes.

He looked in her eye's direction, but not really at her.

"It's simple, Cyrus. I want to see if we can hurt God enough for him to do something about it," Adrianna said with a mad grin. "It's the ultimate character study, don't you think? I honestly think it would make a good thesis, but hey, I never went to university."

Cyrus frowned. "I see."

"Hm, yes, I see," she mimicked his voice in a mocking tone before crouching. Her finger tapped against the solid stone they were standing on, still numb. "Is He going to stand by and watch, or is he finally going to do something?" she muttered. "I think changing someone's usual behavior is interesting, but what really gets me going? It's seeing what their limit is. How many times they can get back up in the face of what amounts to torture."

Her limit, she'd known very well. It had almost killed her.

She paused and stared at her boss.

"Do you think God can be hurt emotionally if we destroy everything He's ever made, Cyrus? Is He even capable of things like love or pain— because you have to love something to be emotionally invested in it— or is He above those?" She tried snapping her fingers (and failed) before he answered, if he even was going to answer. "Here's the thing, right, we won't ever know, or at least I don't think we will, but trying it as a last hurrah? I think that's what makes it all worthwhile. I think it's what being a person means."

Cyrus sighed. "I suppose that is good enough. A lofty goal, but aligned with my own beliefs about Gods standing above the rest of us on their thrones, always hidden away from view."

"You were about to rob me of my front-row seat, by the way," she grumbled, her hand massaging her throat as best it could. "You're lucky we don't have an H.R. department."

Yes.

She would hurt God if it was the last thing she did.

And it would be.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, yesnomaybeso, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Tina M, Nova, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kolby, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Daruda, Mystic Corn, menirx, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Eric, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK--, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Dvn, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, Iepton, sqw4l, V4Ford, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M
 
Last edited:
Interlude - Smile No More
INTERLUDE - SMILE NO MORE

"Our scouts report that some grunts have been spotted east of Mount Coronet near Celestic, but they were dealt with by Craig Goodwill's Salamence…"

"He's green. You capture them instead so we get the location of where they're currently at. We could have struck them instead of waiting like sitting Ducklett—"

"Enough. What's done is done, we move on. Elite Bertha contacted us before this meeting, and they've run out of hospital beds in Canalave, Pastoria, and Snowpoint, but Snowpoint's in the worst condition."

"We can't put people in field hospitals when it's minus fifteen degrees Celcius outside. Can we send Kadabra to Teleport patients to other cities?"

"The Champion disagreed last time we asked."

"That's because we can't do half-measures. If we send a few, then it looks horrible, they do what, four jumps each, and they're too exhausted to go the rest of the day. We send enough, we weaken ourselves too much. They're working around the clock to protect persons of interest, ship supplies and move people around Coronet already."

"We can have them set up in large buildings. School gymnasiums, Gym and hotel lobbies…"

"Not many of those in Snowpoint."

"Well it'll have to do, won't it? We're at nine-thousand six hundred and fifty-five dead so far and climbing, and more than that wounded. People dying right outside Centers and hospitals because we didn't have the space to take care of them doesn't paint a pretty picture."

"The picture comes second to the actual priority. Making it through the next few days."

"I still think we should send some Kadabra now that we've actually run out of—"

"The decision rests in the Champion's hands. Champion Cynthia, what shall we do?"

Her fingers drummed against the metallic table as she kept her foot from anxiously bouncing on the ground. She sat in a room full of her top League personnel, some military, some not. The people who had helped her run the country most of the year as she had torn away at young institution after young institution she'd put in place. Ten people in total, eleven if she counted Lucian, twelve if you added his Alakazam. They all shared this blood on their hands, and for once, Cynthia was starting to think it was just so heavy.

"We send ten Alakazam. Six to Snowpoint and two each to Canalave and Pastoria," she said, leaning against her fist.

The room fell silent all at once, and she frowned. Had she said something—

"Cynthia," Lucian said. "Sending away ten Alakazam is… almost half of our Alakazam."

The Champion blinked. Alakazam? Had she said—

"I meant Kadabra," she exhaled. "My apologies."

The room relaxed at once, and the conversation moved forward again. A mistake like this? She was growing sloppy, and there was no excuse. She'd grown more prone to those, in the last few hours as exhaustion caught up to her. Cynthia was, after all, still human, and sleep was not something the world could afford, at the moment. Togekiss wouldn't mind keeping the nightmares away, but now just wasn't the time.

"Now, onto the defense of Mount Coronet," an officer said. Joachim Rouzet was the most senior member here, and one of the few who had remained from Radetic's old administration. He was an unassuming man, which was good, given that he was the director of the League Secret Service. He'd only been deputy director before Cynthia had fired his boss, but he'd been too competent to throw away. "We have soldiers, ACEs and members of the LTIP placed at every entrance and inside the mountain."

They were, as it stood, operating from the point of view that Acuity was lost no matter how hard they defended it, just in case it was. The defense of Coronet was, therefore, of the utmost importance. Decisions they made at this moment would affect the fate of the world.

Cynthia's breath trembled, not loudly enough to be seen. Everyone in this room was terrified, but all had grown proficient in showing it.

Her included. It wasn't like her. She'd been scared, anxious of consequences before, but never this much. Never to the point that her smile was faltering. Never to the point that she wanted to bounce her leg under the table and that breathing was like a Golurk's hand was squeezing her like a grape.

"Not too deep, though," Cynthia said.

"Only five miles deep at each entrance," one answered, running a hand over his hair. Fred Dranau.

Any more than that, and they'd get lost in the mountain. That was for if measures got desperate and she'd have to send those children climbing up the mountain, and hopefully their presence would allow people surrounding them to climb as well. It should, if they stayed close enough.

If it didn't…

Well, she'd be there too.

"How is Point Borea faring?" Lillia Beckings asked.

Doctor Fenetry, the leading figure in the experimentation of Legendaries ranging from the Regis, the Unown and Darkrai, answered. "Hunkering down and ready to fight, but if Team Galactic has three Guardians, the odds of them stopping them from awakening Regice is extremely low. And if this lasts another day…"

"That's Wednesday," Joachim muttered. "When Regice will be at its most unstable."

Cynthia's ears rang— a high-pitched tone that cut through any voice and somehow sounded like the loudest thing she had ever and would ever hear. "Their leader, Cyrus, is somehow extremely well-versed in Legendaries. It should come as no surprise, if he knows Regice exists, and the guardians might point him in the right direction. It would be a good distraction."

"A catastrophe," Lucian added. "A distraction is a mild way of putting it."

"Semantics," Cynthia said. She must have let something slip into her tone, because everyone in the room turned her way and stayed silent once more.

She did not apologize no matter how much Alakazam glared at her.

Lucian clapped his hands. "Shall we take a short break? Five minutes, perhaps, before we reconvene."

Cynthia waved a hand, ignoring him. "Flint can lead Aaron to take care of Regice, if that comes to pass," another military officer said. "They can take Craig Goodwill as well. The three of them should be enough, if they have enough support from the League."

"We ought to start setting that up now, then," Andrew Frazier crossed his arms, then uncrossed them. "Teleporting in the mountain is already difficult, given it changes its layout every few days, but it becomes impossible if Regice is awake."

"Mount Coronet's bowels have been even more agitated for the last twelve hours," Dr. Fenetry said.

"If we bait it into the larger caverns, we can Teleport close enough like last time, outside its range," Cynthia said. "I've had teams of Kadabra scouting the layout of the mountain night and day for weeks."

He looked like he wanted to complain about the fact that he had not been informed of that, but stayed silent. Cynthia's heart contracted, squeezed until she could barely breathe at the finality of such a decision.

"But let's put a pin on that for now," Cynthia breathed, hand over her chest. "We'll make the final decision another time."

She could breathe again.

"Cynthia," Lucian pressed.

"Yes?"

"I need to speak to you."

"It can wait after the meeting, can it not?"

"No, it can't."

The Champion exhaled.

Then she waved a hand, and everyone but he cleared the room at once. She took comfort in the empty chairs, still spinning from their momentum, and Lucian recalled Alakazam.

"You're spiraling," Lucian declared.

"I am," she acknowledged with an incline of her head. "So what? Time keeps marching forward."

"Let me take over for a few hours so you can rest."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

The psychic type specialist crossed his legs, purple hair cascading down his head, and tilted his hair as he adjusted his glasses, staring at her with that analytical look of his, finding the exact combination of words and tone that would get her to agree. "Your decision-making is fine right now, but it'll get worse as the day goes on if you don't sleep. You're twitchy, and people are noticing."

Cynthia cradled her own face and massaged her forehead. "The problem isn't that I am tired, Lucian. It is that if we get this wrong, if we mess up, the consequences would be— they would be—"

She could not bring herself to say it.

"I'll take care of things here. Please rest," he said.

Cynthia inhaled through her teeth sharply. "I have a favor to ask of you, Lucian. No one can know about this."

"Ask, and if I can do it, I will."

"Bring me home."



Celestic was just as she remembered it being the last time she'd come. It was the middle of the night, with only the stars and half a moon to shine down on her hometown— if she even considered it that, still— yet it bathed everything in a soft, silver light. As she had expected, no one was out, especially not in front of her family's home. Cynthia could not see beyond the small, cobbled path that led to it, but Alakazam would have warned her, if there was. He was already looking mighty displeased.

The stone was worn smooth from many years of footsteps, guiding Cynthia home like an old friend. As she stepped onto the porch, the creak of the wooden floorboards beneath her feet echoed in the stillness of the night, a familiar sound that brought a smile to her lips. She'd forgotten the correct spots not to be heard sneaking out, had she? Their house was bigger than it used to be, with Cynthia sending money each month, but they had only expanded on what used to be here, and Kirsten wasn't one to enjoy renovating something that worked perfectly well. Her grandmother was a woman who easily got attached to old possessions.

Despite hailing from this town, Cynthia had rarely set foot back in Celestic since becoming the Champion. Her early years were filled with the tumultuous internal backstabbing and politics that nearly always came with a change in power in the kind of regime Sinnoh used to be, especially when she'd been so young and three out of four Elite Four members had opposed her. When everything had been stabilized and her predecessor had flown out to Alola, she took it upon herself to reform the country, slowly but surely, and her year spent in Unova hadn't helped with how busy she got. Picking at Alder's mind had been a fascinating task, in the few meetings and summits they'd held with her delegation, and they stayed in contact up until his Volcarona died and he had withered into nothing.

From a fiery storm to… whatever he was now. A homeless man wandering Unova, lost in perpetual grief and rarely caught by any cameras. Back then, she'd thought less of him, for having a weak mind. For simply allowing himself to lose to a then eleven-year-old child just because it was easier that way, because he could not live with the loss, when he had talked to her about how much more work needed to be done. Their circumstances were not at all similar. All of Cynthia's Pokemon were in their prime, whereas Alder had caught Volcarona at the tail end of her unnaturally long life, when she'd been barely held together by the remnants of hushed tales, songs and prayers.

What she never thought, however, was that at some point in time, the weight of the mantle of power might make her own knees buckle and her bones creak. That she might not be enough.

Weakness. Was she not Sinnoh's protector, sworn to serve the people no matter what may come to pass? She did not have a limit, Champions did not have limits. They were paragons. Mistakes were affordable, but not today. Not when the stakes were this high.

Her hand touched the door, smooth and a pale, light green. New. How did Celeste convince Kirsten to do that?

Cynthia whispered, "Thank you, Alakazam. I appreciate it."

The psychic's singular eye twitched. He had never been good at appreciating sudden kindness from anyone other than Lucian. One hour, he said. And do not go out in public.

Cynthia smiled at him, a genuine smirk at how he believed he would have to warn her of all people. As if she did not know the consequences of this could be catastrophic for what came after, if there was going to be an after. The Champion, caught checking up on her family before appearing to the public after nearly ten thousand were dead and thousands more were wounded? Oh, there was always more yarn she could spin, more stories she could weave, but it would cost her.

And yet.

Here she was.

Alakazam disappeared without a trace before he let himself show his mustache twitch nervously at her stare.

One hour.

Her knuckles rasped against the smooth wood of the door, but she hesitated to knock. When was it, did she start feeling less at home here than when she was stuck nose-deep in her office at the League? Her home, it felt so alien, so foreign to her now that she could barely believe this was where she'd grown up. There were trinkets adorning the porch, most religious in nature. Strips of paper warded with charms or Arceus' name, but never his figure. Deigning to know what he looked like was not allowed in Celestic's branch of Originalism.

Just as she was about to knock, the door swung open.

Her twin sister stood there, her hair all over the place and evidently still half asleep, from the strand of drool dripping down her mouth. She was slightly shorter by an inch or so, and a little less gaunt than Cynthia was, these days, given that she didn't spend so long sitting in an office. Other than that, they were nearly identical.

Cynthia's eyes drifted to her stomach for a moment, and then her fingers, thanks to the gleam of a ring under the moonlight, then her eyes.

"Cynthia?" The words were a mix of disbelief and anger. "Cynthia," she said again, now sure of herself. "What in the world are you doing here? Do you have any idea of what's going on?"

"That's my job," she deadpanned. "May I come in? I can stay here for an hour, and I decided to come visit."

Celeste looked around, as if she was searching for who else would be here, but she found no one. "Where's your entourage, Cynth?"

"I came alone, with the help of Lucian's Alakazam."

Granted, Cynthia had afforded them protection from the League, just in case they ever became a target, but it hadn't looked like Celeste had caught on.

Her sister facepalmed as she leaned against the doorframe. "You look older."

"I am."

"You never contact us. You haven't written us in over ten months, let alone called. Do you have any idea of how Gran felt about that?" she asked, her eyes flaring with an intensity rarely ever directed at her. It was somewhat refreshing. "Of how I felt about that."

"I was busy, Celeste."

"Yeah. Too busy to send even a single letter or text," she smirked. "Maybe I'm too busy to let you in."

"Not now. Please."

Celeste bit her lip. "We'll see."

"So," Cynthia hummed. "You're pregnant and married?" It had been easily noticeable, with how much she was showing, the size of her stomach barely contained inside of her shirt. Cynthia estimated… seven months? But she'd never been the best at that, so she might have been wrong. "Who's the father?"

There might have been a snapback coming, but she wouldn't do that. Not for this particular topic. "Neil."

"Neil… Neil Schwartz?" She tried recalling him, though his image was fuzzy. They must have been fourteen the last time they'd even interacted. "Ah, I remember now. His parents work that gift shop close to the crater's edge."

"His gift shop, now," she specified.

"I'm sorry I didn't…" her lips thinned. "I'm sorry I didn't know sooner. This year has just been so…"

"Hectic, yeah," her sister nodded. "You can come in."

Stepping over the threshold, Cynthia entered her old home, feeling a sense of peace settle over her. It wasn't comfortable, not yet, but it was familiarity, at the very least. The sights and sounds of her home she'd nearly forgotten enveloped her. The smell of burned wood from the now extinguished fire in the hearth, the soft, repeated ticking of the grandfather clock, the old books she used to obsess over, settled neatly on an old bookshelf against the walls.

"So, what are you actually here for?" Celeste whispered. It was odd, to see her move so carefully, her hands always over her stomach as if she was cradling her child already.

"Do you know if it's a boy or a girl yet?" Cynthia asked.

"What?"

"The gender."

"Oh, sorry, I thought you'd— you know what, never mind," Celeste said with a little grin. All of a sudden, it was like they were ten again. "It's a boy. You know, I feel like he's already raring to get out." She stopped to sigh. "Arceus knows that'll be a relief on my back."

"And this Neil. He's good to you?" Cynthia asked, wandering around home. There were unwashed dishes in the sink, something Kirsten never would have let them get away with in their young age.

She was getting older.

"He's wonderful. You know, he makes a crap ton of money from all the trainers that pass through here near the end of each Circuit, and thank Arceus, because I've had to stop working."

"Ah. The pregnancy?"

The Champion looked at an old picture, framed in wood, and smiled. There she was with Garchomp as a Gible, smiling for the camera. Of course, this had been years after they'd met, given that it took Celestic that long to accept her being a trainer.

"No, Cynthia it was before that— it's Gran. You know… her eyes got really bad, and she can't move much. She needs me to take care of her."

Cynthia blinked, flinching back as if she had been struck.

"It got that bad?"

Why didn't you tell me?! she wanted to yell, but she knew she had no right, absolutely none. It was just so difficult. She wanted to deny it at first, to refuse that her grandmother could ever reach a point where she was unable to care for herself. To reconcile that person Kirsten was in Cynthia's mind with the image Celeste was painting was asking her the impossible, and she despised that feeling, that ache in her heart that made her feel so weak. This was partly why she never visited home, something she struggled to admit to herself. The place did not change, but the people did. They moved on without her. Neighbors got older, had children or died. Most of the people who she used to go to school with had moved out, not that they'd been on friendly terms regardless, and most of all, every time, her family was so…

Different.

It felt so jarring, to see Celeste pregnant and hear that she'd married already. To hear that Kirsten's eyes had gotten so bad that she was basically blind, her body so feeble that she could barely move on her own.

It was her fault, yet it hurt all the same.

"I don't think you should wake her, then," Cynthia said. "She needs rest, doesn't she?"

"I can still—"

"I can come back another time," Cynthia said. "Now let's sit. Tell me about your husband and… your life."

They spoke for a while, around twenty minutes or so. Celeste told her of how Neil and she had reconnected when she'd gone out to buy more trinkets for Kirsten, who thought she might be able to just pray the blindness away. No, that was a rude way of putting it, but Cynthia had never been favorable to how they depended on religion for everything here. Had she been less busy, had she known, had she written, then maybe she could have convinced her grandmother to get care in one of those private hospitals. The really good ones, down in Jubilife or Sunyshore. It was too late, now. Time was a cruel mistress, and she marched on no matter what petty living things wanted. Neil did not live with Celeste yet, but he was thinking of selling his parents' home, of hiring help for his shop so he could help with Kirsten, and appeared to be an appropriate man for her sister to be married to. Arceus knew Celeste hadn't always had the best taste in those, especially in their teenage years. While Cynthia had spent those all in the wild, preparing for her fifteenth, Celeste…

Well, it was best not to revisit those memories. They'd all been children, once.

"What about you?" Celeste asked.

"What about me?"

"You know what I'm saying," her sister snorted. "Any office romances? You know, people see you and Lucian hang around all the time…"

Cynthia laughed— genuinely laughed, so loud that Celeste shushed her, and all of a sudden it was like they were little girls again. "With Lucian? Legendaries, no, he and I would sooner die than have that happen." She wiped the corner of her eye. "You know, there just isn't… any time."

And no one could ever meet her standards, regardless. She'd tried, oh, she had, back when she'd first become the Champion. Most had been kept under wraps, lest the tabloids go into a feeding frenzy, but no one could ever hold her attention for long, and she always ended up breaking up with them after a month or two. Cynthia always liked them at first, but then noticed every little flaw until she didn't recognize who she had been infatuated with in the first place and broke it off. Bertha asked her to stop, after a while. She had summoned her to her office one day, on the eve of her eighteenth birthday, and asked her if she wanted to change things or just to keep sleeping around.

It had been a hyperbole, which was rare, with Bertha. Cynthia had been more interested in picking their brains and sharing mutual interests than anything else.

She'd been young, back then, and still believed that her life could be normal despite her responsibilities. Voices had been raised, but eventually, years later in her early twenties, Cynthia had realized that Bertha had been correct. Doing both was just… impossible, at least for her. Not when she'd been so much more hands-on with everything than Gabriel Radetic. One needed to be, when steering a nation, and that took a lot of micromanagement.

"I'm just fooling around," Celeste said, pushing her on the shoulder. "You know, I've been sidestepping the topic, but if you can… you know, tell us anything about what's going on with Team Galactic— if it's too much for you—"

"That's confidential," Cynthia said smoothly.

"But you came here for a reason. You're having a tough time, aren't you?"

Sinnoh's Champion drew upon a breath so large it might as well have been endless. "This entire year, Celeste. I have never overseen a decline so steep, failure after failure." Their eyes met. "I have used fear as a tool of the state, imprisoned and sacked political opponents to install loyalists and rule with an iron fist, ceded more and more ground to authoritarianism and I am now being forced to cooperate with despots like Lance Blackthorn. But I suppose I am a despot as well," the Champion spoke with a wry smile. "I have ripped everything I have spent over a decade working on to shreds, and yet it looks like we might fail anyway." Her hand ran over her forehead to wipe off sweat that wasn't there. "I had meticulously altered the face of this nation by the rules to establish a precedent for the Champions who would come after me, to build institutions from the ground up. Restrained myself in this world made of… of cardboard. Worked countless sleepless nights to make a difference," she exhaled. "And yet, look at it."

There was no Television to show the consequences of her failures, and Celestic had not been targeted by Team Galactic, yet Cynthia stared out of their tiny window and imagined her hometown, burning to a crisp, like the entire country had. It enraged her. The fact that so many innocents had died under her watch, under her care. If she got her hands on any Galactic Commander now, there would be…

No. Unleashing Spiritomb on them would be inefficient, and there would be no time to waste. It would be best to simply get Garchomp or another one of her Pokemon to cut them in half before they or their Pokemon could blink. Save for Charon, of course. Deals were malleable, but she couldn't let emotions get the better of her. Mira Compton's cooperation would ensure Sinnoh's security in the future.

"It's that bad, huh?" Celeste muttered, placing a hand on Cynthia's arm. She squeezed. "Arceus, I wish I could help you, but…"

"You cannot. Thank you either way, Celeste. I usually never get overwhelmed like this, but it's been building up and it needed to come out. I have an image to uphold. I'm a beacon."

"Beacon," her sister smiled. "That's what you wanted to be. Always talking about that word and uh… paragon, I think. Oh, and symbol."

Hope, change, movement. Out with the old, in with the new and the streamlined. She'd tell anyone who would listen about it, back then, but most of the time, it ended up being Celeste, Gible, and her grandmother, given her less-than-stellar reputation at the time.

"You never did tell me about your journey." She leaned against the couch and stared at the ceiling. "But by the time the year was over, you were a completely different person. The world had ripped the child out of you. We barely recognized you, but that goal? That need to do good, to help, to be a beacon," Celeste said, her tone full of conviction. "It never changed."

Cynthia laughed. "Sacrifices have to be made, to grow into a person who can be Champion. It is not simply about the power of your Pokemon, your charisma, your connections, or your willingness to do the work. You have to have all of that, but you also need to want something. Want it so bad that you don't mind that parts of yourself will have to be burned and rebuilt, lest the role refuses you. When it does, it swallows you whole, chews you up and spits you out a broken mess."

She had seen it, studied it before. Many times, when a Champion lost to a challenger after having reigned for years or decades, it was not only because their team had not been up to par, but because they had lost their fire. The drive which had gotten them to their position in the first place. Now they just went through the motions, guided by the invisible hand of power while their challenger had that spark in their eye they'd lost long ago.

Many times, even, their Pokemon were individually weaker, yet they won anyway.

In the end, the challenger always represented ideals. A need for change, as she had. In their eyes, the current Champion was often a villain. After all, was it not them, who had let their country get to this point? Who had allowed so much so and so, this and that, and yet they dared to look tired, to look exhausted? She'd thought the same, when looking at Radetic and his Walrein. He'd been corrupt, a creature born of the old guard, and yet she'd often used the same tactics he had to speed up her reforms for the greater good. She had allowed Poketch to grow unchecked like he had, and kept their relationship just because it was convenient and she'd failed a few times to bust their monopoly.

One day, perhaps, she would face someone much like her. Someone who would have grown tired of her destroying their home, in their eyes, and she would just be so, very tired.

Too tired to win.

Contrary to popular belief, Champions often knew, when they'd be facing a contender that year, and they also knew when there was a real risk of losing. Sometimes, it was a challenger with years and years of attempts. A diamond in the rough turned into a fine cut. Few came close to this at present. Craig was the closest, and recent years at the Conference had driven the top competitors to great heights not seen in a long time. She had once said Craig Goodwill would lose to Flint. More recent assessments of him thanks to them working together had her think he might make it to her depending on how he approached the fight against him and Lucian. Of course, he would lose, but he would be the first to make it through since she'd selected her new Elite Four.

Sometimes, it was a prodigy that swooped up badges in just a few months like she had, taking the region by storm. There was no one like that, at the moment.

Those? Those, you could not be warned about years in advance.

Radetic had known she was coming only a few months after she'd begun. He had seen her talk about him, and how he was the source of every problem that ever was and every problem that ever would be. And she had ruined him, so utterly destroyed him and his legacy that he had been run out of the country. Wielded the power of an entire state's apparatus to drive him off so she could more easily replace the people loyal to him swarming every inch of the League like rot.

She would do it again, if given the choice. Every time.

"You talk of it like it has its own will," Celeste said after a while. "Power."

"It does," Cynthia agreed. "The mantle does. In a way, I am more its tool than it is mine. At the beginning, it seems so… limitless. The world is in the palm of your hands, and it looks so much smaller than before. But then you pull one lever, a single lever, and it ripples across an entire nation, and you realize that this will not be as simple as you think it is." Her breath shook, and she also leaned back next to her sister so their shoulders touched. "Your eyes open to how much influence you truly wield, and you suddenly feel so paralyzed. No amount of reading books about political theory or governing prepares you for such terror."

Celeste nodded weakly. "I understand," she said, her voice trembling.

And she did. This was their first proper conversation in years, she did not have a single taste of what sitting atop that throne truly meant, and yet she did. Their bond was still tight, despite everything they'd been through.

"This year… I just keep replaying it in my head, trying to think of how I might have stopped Team Galactic in their tracks with the information I had at hand, and I spot mistake after mistake."

"You aren't omniscient, Cynthia."

"I am not, but that doesn't excuse my failures."

"And now? Have you been broken yet?" a voice rang out from the hallway.

Celeste jumped, and Cynthia grinned despite feeling guilty about having woken up their grandmother. She dragged herself through the darkened hall with a walker, and Celeste quickly jumped at the opportunity to help her after turning on the lights.

"I remain standing still, Kirsten."

Her grandmother was no trainer, yet she was the strongest person she'd ever known, and yet she was fading. Her eyes were a milky white, and she had clearly gone blind. Her arms and legs were like thin, spiny branches, and she couldn't even walk without going out of breath.

It hurt, to see her like this. To witness the last embers of a dying flame. The coming of a long, endless winter.

Celeste panicked, "Gran, your wheelchair—"

"The wheels can go to hell," Kirsten said. "And Kirsten, Cynthia? Really? I raised you better than that, and it's no use trying to distance yourself from me to make my passing easier. In this household, you will refer to me as your grandmother, or you will leave."

"...Gran."

"Good." Celeste guided her to the living room, and she sat to face Cynthia with an exhausted, frustrated groan. It must have been hard, to still have her sharp mind, but for her body to be unable to keep up. White eyes stared directly at her— no, slightly past her. "My ears might not be what they used to be, but if you wanted to sneak around, you shouldn't have spent the past thirty minutes giggling with your sister."

"That was only ten of the thirty, at most," Celeste said.

Gran waved a hand dismissively. "She must have told you about Neil and the baby, I presume. He's a good man, if a little boring. A good fit for her, since she likes wearing the pants in the relationship, personality-wise. He's even kept the name Collins, can you believe it? Back in the day, that was as good as cutting off your balls and putting on a wig."

Her sister sighed. "Arceus give me strength…"

"Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course," her grandmother quickly added, a line well-rehearsed, by the sound of things. "So, Cynthia. Tell me about your troubles," Kirsten said. "Has the throne grown too large for a little girl from Celestic?"

Cynthia stopped herself from scoffing. Deep down, the want to impress her was still there, but she'd grown past it a long time ago. She vented about everything she'd told Celeste, and suddenly wished she'd asked for two hours instead of one. Her grandmother simply listened, not bothering to say anything besides the occasional hum or nod.

"Things must truly be catastrophic if they've got you acting like this," her grandmother calmly said. "I'm sorry, Cynthia. Truly."

"That paralysis I was talking about," the Champion said. "I've grown past it. Used to it. Learned to delegate more, or at least until this year, and learned what actions would affect which sector, but now? It's gripped me again. Every potential action… if I fail…"

The world ends.

That had always been the case. She had learned of this months ago, but the closer this got to being a reality, the more stressed she'd gotten, and if they did not succeed at Acuity, then she struggled to see a path where they'd make it through the next couple of days. Cynthia wasn't sure they even had that. Mount Coronet was, as they understood, not alive, but… it had a way of acting that pushed or pulled people in certain directions. Usually that was away from Spear Pillar, be that using temporal or spacial distortions, but the guardians would render Team Galactic immune to that, or at least the people closest to them.

"If I fail, it will be, as you said, catastrophic," Cynthia finished her sentence.

There was a beat of nervousness on Celeste's face. "More catastrophic than they already are? Should we— should we be going somewhere? Is this place safe, Cynthia?"

Oh, Celeste, Cynthia thought. I would take a ten, a hundred, fifty times the casualties in a heartbeat, if it meant that Sinnoh prevailed. I would watch you, your unborn child and our own grandmother die, if it was what it took, because that is who I am.

"Little hellraiser Cynthia," Kirsten said, hands intertwined. They were veiny and discolored. "Carrying the weight of a country on her back. I told you the role would scrape you until there was nothing left other than bones."

Cynthia frowned. "You told me I wasn't going to make it."

Yes, she had not left town on good terms with her family. In fact, one could say that she had run away, though she had no doubt her grandmother had expected it, given her parting gift. But what did it even matter, what she'd said? Why was she bringing it up now, and why was she rising to the bait?

"Gran…" Celeste hesitantly spoke, eyes drifting between the two. "Now isn't a great time for this. We should be thinking about leaving, shouldn't we?" She paced around the room and looked at their landline. "Arceus, I need to call Neil—"

"You're fine, Celeste," Cynthia said. It did not matter, where you went.

"You would not drag me away from here regardless," Kirsten added, helpful as always. "And that is not what I said, Cynthia. I told you, before you left, that the powers that were would never accept a girl from Celestic, even if she won. I was correct. What I did not expect was for you to clean house and make them accept you." She paused, smacked her lips and they turned to a rather jovial smirk. "I do not mean to say you are not up to the task, Cynthia. Clearly that is what you inferred."

Ah. She had, and it had ruffled her quite a bit. "I misunderstood, then."

"What I did mean to say is that this job will kill you, soon enough," she continued. "It will not have to be because you'll die in some battle, though that might be the case—"

Celeste scoffed. "If she's dying, she's taking everything in a thousand-mile radius down with her, let me tell you."

Cynthia laughed, a short exhale through her nose, but Kirsten continued.

"I mean that it will wring you out like a wet towel until there's nothing left in you," she nonchalantly said. "It'd be a shame to see my granddaughter dead before I passed. Lord Arceus knows you already have half of your body in a grave you dug yourself."

"Retirement is not an option."

"Sure it is," Kirsten smiled. "This year alone has eaten away at more of you than the last ten. The next might as well, and after another, well, you might as well put me in your will."

"Hey, leave some for the rest of us," Celeste joked. "I have a baby on the way."

"You have to promise me to buy that villa in Unova I've always wanted."

They all laughed.

"This year has worn me down, it's true," Cynthia said, more seriously. "I considered taking a break after it. I have a new Pokemon who needs to be trained, and I don't mean that just in the battling sense. A year off would allow me to focus on him," she sighed. "But with the bombs… no, I need to be there. To rebuild. And I wouldn't have the excuse I had last time I took a year off."

Celeste's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Oh, a new Pokemon? That's been a while. What is it?"

"A child who has never been afforded civility, and who therefore only knows how to fight," she said. "You can't meet him, Gran. Not yet."

While Celeste and her incident with that Zangoose when they'd been young and stranded on route 210 had weaned her off Pokemon forever, Kirsten was a curious woman, no doubt wanting to see who had caught her attention this time. Her inroads with Zoroark were… well, they were slow, as she'd expected, but at least he had understood rather quickly that he could not kill her, and they were at least on speaking terms.

"You haven't even let me see that little miscreant and you deny me yet another favor?" her grandmother teased.

"Garchomp is better off not knowing I came here, or she'll worry."

Celeste chimed in, "Plus, I'd be willing to bet you don't want her terrified of what's coming." She nudged her chin in their grandmother's direction.

"Well, she's grown past eating the furniture and stuffing in my pillows, so maybe she wouldn't have to be," Kirsten laughed.

"I'm pretty sure you're the only woman in the region capable of scaring little Garchomp, Gran," her sister said, a smile of her own plastered on her lips.

Cynthia leaned forward. "Do you remember when I came home earlier than usual from our training and we got mud all over the house?"

Celeste nodded. "Hmhm, and I'd told you that it was a bad idea and it had been raining all day, but you said 'Gible's hungry, Celeste, and she won't train until she eats some more'," she mimicked Cynthia's younger voice. It had always been slightly lower-pitched than hers. "Never mind that she'd eaten like three hours ago already. Lo and behold, I get yelled at with you."

"It was a bad day at work," Kirsten shrugged.

"Well, you could have brought me the food and I wouldn't have had to go inside," Cynthia said.

"Oh, don't play that game with me, Cynth. I did bring the food, but you always wanted something specific with exact portions because of some diet you read about in a book or whatnot, and only you knew how to make that stuff. It was funny to watch you pay for it by beating trainers who passed through, though."

"A little eight-year-old, giving teenagers a run for their money, ha!" Kirsten laughed. "Served them right. They had no respect for our town or culture, and they still don't might I add."

"Eh, it's gotten better. You know, Champion clout and all. People don't want to disrespect Cynth's hometown," Celeste said.

Cynthia was lighter, now, and yet she hadn't gotten any answers.

"Gran."

"Ah yes, getting back on topic," the old woman nodded. "You feel paralyzed, unable to act… hold on." She closed her eyes, as if she was searching for something. A few seconds later, she held out her hand. "Hold on." Cynthia frowned. "Don't be daft, hold it."

She clasped her grandmother's hand, her breath shivering as she felt at the skin. She'd been what, eleven the last time she'd done this? The firm grip she remembered was gone, and now there was a delicate fragility to her grandmother's grip. The skin was almost papery to the touch, like she was holding onto some kind of grainy surface. Cynthia could feel the bones beneath the surface, each joint slightly swollen. Calluses adorned the fingertips, remnants of years of physical labor, both around the house and at her old job as a logger.

So small.

"I remember, once," Kirsten said. "It was shortly after you'd befriended Gible… a few months, if I remember correctly. Maybe a year. This was at the beginning of that year's Circuit, and there weren't any trainers around, so you'd go out every day and train out in the wilds, sneaking out while I was at work. I'd get one of the neighbors to babysit, try to get old Richmond and his two pups to keep track of you, but somehow, some way, you always managed to get out after a few hours. Maybe Richmond had gone soft and was letting you through, but he swore he never did."

She worked her jaw and exhaled, a short laugh as she reminisced. There were a few tricks Cynthia had employed, back then, like having Gible create tunnels to get her out of town and masking her own scent by rubbing mud and trash all over her body. It had been a tight fit, but easy for a child to do. Of course, now she knew that back then, Garchomp's tunnels were not at all stable and she could have died, had she been unlucky.

Her grandma continued, "You know people around here didn't like you kids."

"Born out of wedlock, yes," Cynthia said. Years of training and habit had taught her to smoothen out her expression despite wanting to grimace. What good were customs, if they discriminated like this? She could see Celeste shift uncomfortably next to Kirsten. The subject of their mother having been a victim of sexual assault wasn't a comfortable one. "And?"

"Not just that. You couldn't help but yap about how great being a trainer was to anyone who would listen, talk about how you'd make this town a better place. They hated you. Some even thought you were getting possessed by some kind of malevolent ghost and approached me one day when I was praying at the shrine. Thought you'd get into their kids' heads." Kirsten was blind, yet she met her eyes— truly met her eyes for the first time. "I have to admit, I was also growing tired of you. What if one day, you didn't come back? What if you were eaten or killed by some wild Pokemon like that Zangoose? So one night, I tossed and turned in my bed, asking myself, what was it, that made you so different than every other child? Than your own twin sister?"

"Did you find an answer?" Cynthia asked.

The blind woman shook her head, eyes having now wandered away. "Not that night, no. Not the next, either. I don't think I found an answer until the day you left. Remember?"

"How could I not," she said, barely a whisper.

She could still feel the fading summer sun bashing down her skin without a cloud in sight, save for the enormous wall of fog in the distance. The tears at the corner of her eyes when realizing that this was it, after having had the biggest argument with Celeste she'd ever had and it looked like their relationship would never be mended. She'd had Riolu and Gible, back then. Well, them and…

"I came up to you with the egg," Kirsten grinned. "Some trainer had left it in their Pokemon Center room, probably malcontent with what he was getting, and Sandra, the nurse Joy at the time, was my friend, so a little payment was enough for her not to call the Rangers. They would have taken a month to get here anyway, but I digress. Surely, it was a sign of support, was it not? So why did I, then, tell you that 'you wouldn't make it'?"

Ah, she was using her own words against her.

"Because a young girl from Celestic—"

"Because I didn't want you to leave," Kirsten admitted. "Because I would miss you, and I knew after that day, I would basically never see you again. I saw it in your eyes, that day, and I finally understood. Six years old, and you were talking about making a town that hated you better. Asking for books about history, politics, the economy, Pokemon care and training… It's a wonder I didn't figure this out earlier, but I supposed it was easier not to see."

Cynthia opened her mouth, but her grandmother's voice bulldozed over hers.

"You'll roll your eyes at me for this, I know it, but sometimes, people are put on this Earth to be vehicles for change."

The Champion snorted. "Don't take all of my accomplishments away by attributing them to Arceus."

"I am not. I am saying that something laid the seeds and that you grew into your own," she said. "And from the day you were born, you'd always wanted to tend to your own farm as well. To remove the weeds, till the soil and plant seeds of your own."

Cynthia's lips thinned. To equate, compare her ambition to farming was a little too on the nose for her.

"Now as you know, my dear, farming is hard work, especially in a farm as large as this one. Your body does not stay young and springy forever, you joints and bones are worn down over the years and each dawn brings a familiar ache. The bending, lifting, and hauling required to tend to crops take their toll, leaving shoulders stooped and backs bowed." Her grandmother stood up without her walker, legs shaking under her own weight, but neither Celeste or Cynthia dared to move. "Now, no one asked you to be a farmer, let alone the best damn farmer of these lands. You were warned repeatedly, but it couldn't shake you off the path. Why?"

"I thought you had the answer, now," Cynthia whispered.

"Because you must," she said. "Because it is who you are, because you have to do it, or you are incomplete, and taking it out of you might as well be like trying to cut off your oxygen. You'll thrash around, but if you aren't freed, it'll kill you. No matter what combination of words, what methods are used to convince you otherwise, it will not have you stray off your path. The one of a leader."

Kirsten's hands gripped Cynthia's shoulders as hard as they could, and she stood over her, then let a hand rise to her cheek. "A person's life is a war between who they are and who they want to be, and you've been winning that war for as long as I can remember. The stakes are higher than they've ever been, but this is who you are, Cynthia. Your mind is old and worn like the body of a farmer, but you must act, still. You might fail, you might not, but you are special. You are the only one qualified enough to work this land, now. You have learned of its shape, its quirks and what it takes to run it smoothly, and no one else right now would be able to do better than you, it would take too long to catch them up. If you get it wrong… no one would have gotten it right."

Sinnoh's Champion took a deep breath. "That does not help as much as I hoped it would."

"I'm your grandmother, not magic," Kirsten said, patting her on the cheek twice. "You're lucky you don't come here often, or I'd subject you to more of that, but Cel takes the brunt of it."

"Well, at least I didn't get farmer," she said. "I got librarian, last time. But you understand, right?"

"Because I must," Cynthia nodded. "Because I have taken it upon myself to carry this land upon my back, and I would do it all over again if I could."

"Good. Now Celeste, get me to bed, please."

No pleasantries were exchanged, before Gran went back to bed. Cynthia did not promise that she would visit more often when this was all over, nor did she say that she regretted her actions. Her grandmother had been correct, when she'd said that she'd known she would never see her again on that day she'd left. Cynthia spoke to her sister for the remaining fifteen minutes, sitting on their porch until Alakazam came back to pick her up, and she hugged her goodbye.

"Does the baby have a name yet?" she asked, locked in her arms.

"Yes. Cedric."

"Keeping the 'C' thing alive, are you?" Cynthia laughed softly. "I'll miss the birth, you know? I'll have to deal with the fallout from all of this."

"I know. And the months afterward, too, but at least you're talking about the future," she said. "Want to touch him?"

Cynthia blinked as she stood there, not having expected that. "May I?"

"You may."

She put a hand over her sister's stomach, and after ten seconds or so—

She gasped, feeling a kick, and she quickly dropped down to her knees and gasped. "Arceus, wow, that's— that's strong! Isn't that strong?"

"Oh yeah. He's raring to come out already, let me tell you," she smiled. "Did you not expect anything?"

"No, it's just… moving. Both figuratively and literally. Does it hurt? When he does that?"

Celeste shook her head. "It doesn't hurt, it just feels a little weird, but I've gotten used to it. How soft, by the way. Maybe your job didn't kill all of you after all."

Cynthia, Alakazam jeered. I've been patient enough. It's time to go.

"I'll take care of Gran for you," Celeste said. "She's got years left in her. See how sharp she still is?"

"She meanders more than she used to and speaks slower, but yes," Cynthia said. "And her words helped."

"I'm glad. Now you go kick ass and save the world, okay?" Cynthia could feel Alakazam's disapproving stare bear down the back of her head, but she managed to keep her face straight. Celeste saw through it anyway and blinked. "What, it was just a guess."

"A bad one," she lied. "Go back to sleep. Tell your husband I said hello."

"Will do. And don't forget to sleep, you look like shit."

She stood next to Alakazam and reappeared amidst a flurry of reports from League officials.

She yawned extremely loudly, declared that she would sleep for the next four hours and to wake her up if they were attacked and that Lucian would take over while she was out. She settled in the corner of an empty office and rested her back on her Togekiss.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, yesnomaybeso, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Tina M, Nova, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kolby, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Daruda, Mystic Corn, menirx, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Eric, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK--, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Dvn, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, Iepton, sqw4l, V4Ford, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M
 
Last edited:
Interlude - Last Supper
This is the last interlude of the set. These were deliberately grouped together.

INTERLUDE - LAST SUPPER

Hours earlier.

It had begun as a simple idea.

Let's pretend tomorrow is going to be normal.

Routine was what had kept Cecilia sane her entire life. It was something she could take comfort in, back when she used to live with her parents. To be able to know exactly what was going to happen at each hour of the day, knowing that she would only have to see her father once that particular day for dinner, and even then, that was only for around thirty to forty minutes. Every lesson, every event, every activity, every single moment in her life was meticulously planned down to the second and derailing off that schedule had been enough to have her burst into tears, back then. Because for all she'd been miserable— well, back then, she hadn't known life was miserable, but she had a larger perspective, now— there was something about the unknown that spread pure terror through the human psyche. If one of her attendants said that no, she would not be going to her dance lessons and then meeting her old friend Amy that day, her mind always started to race, picturing the worst scenario every time, because it meant that her father had something in store for her. He had micromanaged all aspects of her life.

Her circumstances were different, now. She held more power at her fingertips than she ever had, and her mind had been freed from her family's shackles. Her friends had taught her to let go of routine and enjoy a bit of spontaneity in her life, but in the world's darkest hour, Cecilia had decided to return to familiarity. Just like she had pretended as a young child that the berating, the yelling, the belittling would be fine, so long as she knew to expect it, she had decided to pretend that tonight was one like any other. Her therapist would no doubt tell her that this was unhealthy behavior, but he wasn't there to stop her.

That was how she found themselves sitting at a table, fingers tapping away at her laptop while she caught up on recent emails. Toxicroak eyed the screen curiously at her side, the subtle light reflecting off her yellow eyes while Slowking translated the emails to her to help teach her how to read. At least she's interested in learning, unlike Scizor. She did look bored out of her mind, but that was routine. Bored was good. Bored meant they were breathing, that their heart was pumping blood through their body, that they were still alive and the situation was mundane enough to be trite. She had long said that she wanted this entire situation done with, like ripping off a band-aid or jumping into a cold pool, but she wanted at least a day.

Not even a day. Just a single night.

She had not forgotten her oath, to kill Team Galactic grunts should Justin be dead. She'd been gathering her courage to actually check, but that would come later.

Grace had taken a bit of convincing, to agree to this, but Cecilia thought it would be especially good for her, with how happy she was acting. Mira had agreed right away and Chase had straight-up refused. They'd been reunited once again at Lake Acuity, though only Grace was with her, at the moment. They'd been given homes much like the one at Lake Valor, and Cecilia could hear her voice coming from the other room, along with the usual sound of a kitchen. Slicing against wood, the clattering of cutlery, the hum of a preheating oven, but also her speaking with her Electivire and Claydol.

Claydol was always with her, now.

The television was on, though it wasn't playing the news. Instead, it was some channel that played romance movies 24/7 that Grace had put on earlier before she'd started cooking dinner. Occasionally, Cecilia would glance the screen's way, but she was completely lost and hadn't kept track of the plot for this one. Movies weren't that fun to watch without Grace there to comment on every little thing, and plus, she was working. Sorting through junk mail from clothing stores about sales, sponsorship offers from Sinnoh that she would never take, given that she was leaving, scams, but sometimes, one caught her eye like this one.

It would be hard to glance over the name of Mark Obel.

Yikes, Slowking said. The man can't take a hint, can he?

Toxicroak laughed, a harsh, raspy sound that sounded, each exhale a concoction of croaks and gurgles as her poison sac expanded and retracted repeatedly.

"He's worried," she said. "No need to laugh, darling."

The fighting type shrugged, as if to say she didn't care. From the way Cecilia had spoken of her brother to her, she was somewhat at fault for the lack of empathy, not that she had any for him to begin with.

"We don't laugh at our detractors," Cecilia said, her tone like a teacher's. "We hold our heads high and kill them with words, or better yet, with silence. We let them know that just because the region is on fire doesn't mean all has been forgiven and we'll suddenly turn a new leaf. Wounds this deep run forever."

That did not mean that she could not read the actual email.

From: MarkObel
Subject:
Please confirm your status in greater detail.

Cecilia, I've tried contacting you a thousand times, but you aren't answering the phone, so this is my last resort. You've told me that you were alive, but that isn't enough. I need to know that you're in a safe space and that no further danger will reach you. We can't get my hands on any information about what's going on beyond the bombings, but I just want to let you know that the moment Sinnoh opens its airspace again I can have you on a plane back to Unova. If that doesn't work for you, I can also bring your friends until the situation comes back to normal.

Answer the phone, please. Keeping me in the dark like this won't help.

Mark Obel
Your brother.


Panicked as he might be, it was still in character for him to be so clinical. The subject, the signature, the way he typed… it was just like her from before.

You're torturing him, Slowking said with a curious hum.

Toxicroak nodded, but she had the widest grin on her face instead.

"Torture?" Cecilia scoffed and shook her head. "These are simple boundaries I've established. I confirmed that I was alive earlier today, and that's enough."

You only call him when you need something for Zolst.

"That's just being smart about things. I don't pretend to care about him like he does with me… though maybe that's a little harsh. He does care, just not enough for me to reciprocate."

The email quickly went into her trash bin, though did offer a little insight into what other countries knew about Sinnoh's troubles. If Mark didn't know Legendaries were involved, then no one in Unova did. She knew he had people in the country, like every region had people in others, but she doubted after all of this year's purges that any of them were in any position to know about what was going on, here. It was possible he'd been lying to her, too, given the rumors about her being a spy spreading about. People lie, Cecilia, she told herself. You best get used to that possibility, and quick.

"At least he didn't bring up his parents or spout some nonsense about the importance of family," she sighed.

There was no point in keeping people in her life who would only make her miserable unless they could be of use. She understood why Mark had done what he'd done, taking their father back, but that didn't mean she had to smile and tell him all about how he was forgiven. To ask him about how he was doing, how heavy the burden of the mantle was, or how he had to make decisions that went against what he personally wanted for Unova's stability, with the political realignment going on there.

She moved on to the next—

From:
Subject:
Please give me another chance.

I can't get a word on if you're fine or—


To the trash, it went. Toxicroak complained about that, given that Slowking hadn't had time to read the message in its entirety, so she would never know what had been sent. The poison type didn't care for Amy, but she did enjoy schadenfreude in spades. Cecilia had blocked her everywhere, but she must have forgotten her email. Amy might have believed that Sinnoh being in the midst of a crisis meant that she would answer, so she'd shot her shot and tried to contact her, knowing that she'd be blocked if she failed. The reasoning was a little confusing, but it tracked, given that she was insane and her behavior was starting to look like a stalker's. Hopefully she'd give up by the time she was in Unova. Cecilia wished she could tell her to move on already, but any further contact would just give the girl a sliver of hope and have her latch onto that faster than Slowking thought of puns. Toxicroak sighed and left the table, deciding that she'd watch TV instead if Cecilia was going to be like this and not let her enjoy someone else's suffering.

"Thinking that way's bad for you regardless," Cecilia said.

Slowking translated her next word as she slumped into the couch, which was 'hypocrite'. Toxicroak extended one of her red claws and started to study it, licking the surface to test the potency of her poison.

"Don't drip poison over the couch," she warned.

She caught up on her emails in the next ten minutes, but it was only when she refreshed to make sure she'd been meticulous and hadn't missed any that her heart nearly jumped out of her throat.

From: ProfJuniper

She closed the screen before she could see the subject.

"Holy shit," she whispered. Her heart was running a marathon in her chest. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!" Each word became louder and louder. "I can't believe it."

All the swearing got Toxicroak's attention, though she pretended not to care and only turned her head a fraction.

Okay, well, admittedly, I wasn't looking at the screen anymore now that Toxicroak left, Slowking said. But the swearing tells me this is either horrible news or extraordinary news. Shall I flip a coin?

Cecilia cracked her screen open, too scared to go any further. "I don't know which one it is. I didn't read it." She gulped, lips suddenly feeling very dry. "It's a message from that professor I told you about."

Ah, yes, the one with the name suspiciously close to Jupiter. Maybe an alter ego…

Her stare told him that now was not the time for those kinds of jokes. Not when so many had died, and especially not when they were pretending this was a night like any other. She could compartmentalize, separate the bombings from the world ending, but she could not do so if someone brought up one of the Commanders.

Cecilia took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

This was a typical night.

She had contacted a few professors back when she'd been in Canalave, but she had not expected an answer to come so soon. She'd thought they'd come in summer, after they had a chance to see her performance at the Conference, but maybe her winning her eighth badge had been enough for this particular professor? From what she knew, Aurea Juniper was somewhat eccentric, but her credentials were excellent and she specialized in the origins of Pokemon— specifically how they came into existence, along with ancient civilizations, which had her studying a whole lot of… eldritch things. That meant she was very nonchalant a lot of the time, and her general attitude had her estranged from most of the scientific community in Unova, which was why she was living in the middle of nowhere.

Sorry to all Nuvemans, Cece thought, but at least it's bigger than Twinleaf.

"I can't look," she stammered, now calmer. "I can't look."

I can look for you,
Slowking suggested.

"Cece? I heard you swear, what's up?"

Grace stood in the doorway to the kitchen, knife in hand. Truth be told, she had taken to this as much as Cecilia had, but that was okay. Her hands were still bandaged and wrapped in plastic gloves.

They both liked pretending, especially if they could mimic what it would be like to live together.

Claydol— or Cassianus, now, hovered behind her while Honey had remained to take care of things. She was wearing an apron over a white shirt and some shorts. They hadn't really been given enough time to come to Snowpoint with the appropriate clothing, and Emilia was the one who kept their winter clothes, at the moment. Her suitcase was in a hotel in Canalave and she was at Mount Coronet, so they were not at all accessible.

"Come here," Cecilia said. "This— this is insane. No emergencies, just… you know, it might be good news."

Her girlfriend walked across the living room. "Well, no need to beat around the bush, you've got me intrigued, now."

Cecilia told her everything, recalling all the times she'd spoken to her about professors in Unova, weaving it into an entire story about how this could make or break her year depending on what was on the email. Ordinarily, they wouldn't be worrying about any of this, but in a way, it was refreshing for her, to be this anxious about an email.

Tomorrow isn't real, she kept thinking.

Just like Toxicroak had come back, Grace was hovering behind her by now, her face slightly above her shoulder. "Now you've got me nervous."

"Are you kidding? Can you look at it for me?"

"What?"

"Just read it before I do."

"I mean, it has to be good, right? She answered you, and quickly," Grace said. "You could have been left on read for months."

"That means you can read it."

The blonde was clearly about to retort, but instead she sighed, placed her knife on the table and nodded. "For you, fine."

Cecilia stood up and allowed Grace to slip into the chair. "Wait, my fingers are greasy," she warned.

The Unovan had already been closing her eyes and looking away from the screen. "I don't really care, but Slowking can open it for you."

I'm still sad you didn't let me read it for you, the psychic grumbled. So who knows what I can and cannot do— ah, okay, no need to glare at me like that, I was just joking.

The screen flipped open, and Cece waited with bated breath.

Grace cleared her throat and started reading, "Dear Cecilia, I hope this message finds you well. In the purpose of staying as transparent as possible, I will tell you first that despite what you wrote to me about wanting to be picked for your own skill and experience, the reason this message got to me from my assistants so quickly was because of your last name. As you know, your brother— uh, sorry, let me skip ahead. Hold on… there you go. The reason I came to this decision, however, is because of you and your merits alone."

There was a pause, and then she continued. "Wait, never mind, look!" Cecilia could tell she was smiling, so she cracked an eye open. "I am writing to formally express my enthusiasm and commitment to sponsoring you as you embark on your second year as a Pokemon Trainer—"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Cecilia jumped for joy, and Grace stood up to hug her, concerns about her greasy hands now forgotten. She giggled when she kissed her cheek. "Oh, I'm so relieved… Arceus, I can't believe this is real. This is real, right?"

"It's real. I told you it was gonna be good!" Grace beamed. "I'm proud of you, Cece."

"Well, she didn't say she was going to sponsor me quite yet—"

"Don't ruin a good thing," she laughed, rolling her eyes. "Should I keep reading?"

Cecilia draped her arms around her girlfriend's neck and settled her chin on top of her head. "I'm okay, thanks."

"You're trapping me anyway. Not that I'm complaining." Grace's hand wrapped around Cece's arm. "You're lucky Honey can handle things."

"Where did you even find lamb?" Cecilia asked as her eyes scanned the email. "I thought all they had was some stuff to microwave."

"I asked them while you were showering and they got it here quick. Honey wanted to cook some lamb, and you know… yeah."

Essentially, Professor Juniper was outlining everything she'd ask of her during their contract, which was admittedly a lot. There was what she'd planned for, which was having her study Hydreigon and Golurk, which were her two rarest Pokemon, and potentially her future Spiritomb, if that ever came to pass. She figured that was the bait that had made Juniper bite, given their ancient origins and how she could potentially figure out how they were made. Cecilia would have to pacify hers before any of that, which would probably take the majority of the year or longer given what Cynthia had said, but it was still a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity even for a professor. Cynthia had vouched for her all the way back when she'd first typed her first email, so she knew it was true. Her connections were paying off already.

Juniper would also be able to call on her whenever she discovered something off-route worth studying, where Cecilia would act as her bodyguard. Not only that, but she wanted help in gathering data, documenting her findings, and retrieving artifacts. She was essentially going to be a part-time field assistant if she agreed, which was… a lot.

In exchange, though? Sure, there was the pay— less than Grace was making right now, given that Juniper didn't have the resources of a huge company behind her, but it was still enough to live, which was great news given that she was out of money (she needed to wean those spending habits of hers, and quick) and showed Cece that Juniper actually wanted her. The number itself was a lot smaller, but Unovan currency was stronger than Sinnoh's, so it was decent, for a small lab like Juniper's. There was also the occasional TM thrown in, along with general mentorship, but what she mostly cared about was the networking possibilities this sponsorship brought.

While Aurea Juniper was not the most well-respected professor in the region, she still had connections. The main avenue was that she was married to Professor Fennel, who for her part was one of the most famous professors in the region for what she was doing with dreams, Munna and Musharna. They'd gone to the same college, going as far as writing their thesis together on the evolutionary biology of Pokemon Species and forms. While Juniper mostly kept to herself, Fennel knew politicians and Gym Leaders, despite her being married to Juniper. It was an in into Unovan politics, if she played her cards right.

I apologize for answering in such troubling times for Sinnoh, but I figured I needed to answer first before some other professor got their grubby paws on you. I usually don't sponsor trainers, but I figured that since I'm starting this year, I might as well add you to the pile. You'll be the fourth and final person working under my laboratory, though the other three will be far newer than you and I doubt you'll be seeing much of them beyond the first few days of the Circuit. I'll be giving them starters of their own to get them going this summer, which they're all very excited about.

"Why would she sponsor new trainers?" Grace asked.

"I don't know. I think she might see potential in them?" Cecilia hummed, feeling at her girlfriend's soft hair. "And you know, she's got to start from somewhere. If she's never sponsored anyone before, not many good trainers will be lining up to work for her."

"Makes sense."

Don't worry about any stigma you might face for having worked closely with Cynthia. There are indeed rumors about you being some puppet, but I won't let that get in the way of our work and I don't involve myself in politics unless they can advance my research. I know you'll be a busy Combee in that regard, but leave all of that outside the lab or harass my wife about it.

We can hash out further details in person, but for now, please let me know if the structure of our partnership works for you.

Professor Juniper
(555) 124-2167
Nuvema Laboratories


"So. Are you writing back instantly?" Grace asked.

"Obviously. Give me the chair."

They swapped places, and Cecilia got typing. Midway through, Honey called for her, so she made her way back to the kitchen. It was important not to come off as too desperate, but still grateful. It was a careful balance to strike, but she believed she'd done a good enough job. Cece stretched, closing her computer.

"Keep Toxicroak company," she told Slowking.

The water type just nodded, hands behind his back as he waddled toward the couch. Cecilia, meanwhile, made her way toward the kitchen to see if she could help with anything. She wasn't the best cook. She knew how to make some things, but to her parents, cooking was something the lower class did, never themselves, so those hadn't been in her lessons. All of the knowledge she'd gotten was from watching her friends cook or the few times she'd needed to heat something up on the road while traveling. She peeked over the door frame and smiled.

"I'm telling you I got it," Grace said, eyeing her laptop. She was following a recipe. "There, lamb's done. It's got incisions all over." She twirled the knife in her hand and dropped it. It clattered on the counter and nearly fell on the ground, but Cassianus kept it hovering faster than Honey could lunge for it. "Thanks. I want to get good at that, but I obviously need practice. What's next?"

Electivire was too tall and large to see what he was doing, but it sounded like he was peeling either carrots or potatoes. A subtle rasp that was nearly impossible to hear. He grunted, with a strange engine-like whirr.

"I told you already I won't practice without Cass there. Uh, sorry, I mean Cassianus," she corrected after the psychic blinked. "What next? Rubbing the thing with olive oil? Right, we've got to season it too…"

For a few more seconds, Cecilia just watched, though she had no doubt Claydol had already seen her. There was something enchanting about observing her going about this. It felt… homely just to have her here, doing this. To have someone she knew she could rely on, no matter what, and to know they could care for each other. It was comfort Cecilia hadn't grown up with, and it still felt new after all these months.

Now that she'd let go of her knife, sneaking up on her might have been fun, though Cass no doubt would have sounded the alarm.

"Need any help?" she asked.

"Oh!" Grace turned toward her, and then back toward the counter. "Uh, I was gonna toss the lamb in the oven after seasoning it, but… you can season the veggies, if you want. Honey was gonna do it, but—"

The electric type waved a hand and spoke.

"He says you can do it if you want. He doesn't like seasoning, since the salt and pepper gets stuck all over his fur. He'll finish dicing the potatoes, but he did the other stuff."

"Skin is convenient." Cecilia walked up to the counter, her arm slightly touching Grace's on purpose. "But you know, salt is a mineral. You could use magnetism to your advantage."

The electric type looked at her like she was crazy.

"I suppose it does take the enjoyment out of it."

Grace chimed in. "It does! He'd never do that."

Honey nodded, saying something she didn't catch. The place was extremely busy in a slightly overwhelming way and the ceiling light was reflecting on the tiles, bouncing right into her eyes, but she got her bearings rather quickly.

"So I just put salt and pepper on these?" From what she knew, that seasoning was rather simple, but effective. She looked at diced carrots and onions, which had been shoved into two different bowls, and the potatoes Honey was cutting. He was going so fast his hands were a blur of motion.

"See how quick he is? I get jealous of how he handles knives sometimes," Grace said. "Oh, and yeah, just spread it across evenly."

She grabbed the salt first and started to pour.

"Not too much, you don't want to drown them in it!"

"Well, how am I supposed to know how much?!" She quickly stopped the pour, fearing the damage was already done. "And don't tell me to just eyeball it, I know you were going to. Is it okay, still?"

"Spread that across, and it should be fine for the salt."

"Across? It's in a bowl."

"Just give it a little shake… I admit, though, I should have kept those on a flat board. We get kind of scatterbrained when we cook."

Electivire shook his head, and Cecilia didn't need a translation for that one. He was telling her not to include him in that 'we'. He started looking through cabinets to see if he could find a wooden board.

"I recall having reminded you of this at least twice. Three times would be impolite," Claydol said.

"I was distracted by Cecilia swearing! I mean, that almost never happens."

"I wouldn't know. I have known her for a total combined time of eight days, six hours, fifteen minutes and forty-six seconds. That isn't enough data."

Grace finished covering the lamb in oil and wrinkled her nose. "Well, I have the data, and she never swears. Only when she's furious or elated."

Electivire spoke up again, this time in a whisper.

"You can't swear yet," Grace said. "Too young. And don't think Sweetheart won't snitch the first opportunity she gets."

"In general, Pokemon mature faster than people," Cecilia offered.

"Don't encourage him! Pass the salt." She handed it over, and Grace started sprinkling the white minerals on the meat. Electivire handed Cecilia a wooden board she could spread the vegetables on to have a more straightforward time seasoning, and she moved onto pepper. "But yeah, hey, congratulations again."

Cecilia smiled. "Thanks. It's a huge relief for sure, but I won't relax until I'm in her office signing that contract."

Her girlfriend looked at her for a moment. "You know, that's something I find really great about you."

"What, my thoroughness?"

"Not just that. I mean how proactive you are with things. You know, you emailed that professor right away, no questions asked. Well, her and a few others." They swapped salt and pepper in one smooth motion, and she kept speaking. "Makes me feel a little slow in a way."

Once upon a time, she would have panicked at those words, thinking she'd done something wrong but not anymore. They'd grown past that and they could just talk, now.

"When you want something, when you really want something, you have to do everything in your power to get it," Cecilia said. "And this is only the first step out of thousands."

"What if that doesn't work?"

"Then you'll have tried. And you're the one whose whole philosophy is trying your hardest."

"I think that's not a philosophy as much as a healthy mindset."

"Hmmm, disagree," Cecilia said.

They both finished seasoning, but according to Grace the lamb had to stay in the oven for thirty minutes before they added the vegetables in the tray, so they were done for a while after she seasoned the potatoes. She washed her hands, Grace took off her plastic gloves and they went back to the living room, where they proceeded to force Toxicroak and Slowking to give them space. Grace lay on her side, her head on Cecilia's lap while she played with her hair, twirling it around her fingers. Cecilia didn't think she was interested in this movie, given that she'd only started looking near the end of it, but it was something to pass the time while they waited for Mira and Chase to come by. Grace had released Meltan out of their ball, and the steel type spent two whole minutes screeching and complaining about having been put in there until Slowking picked up metallic scraps from Grace's bag and started feeding them. They were… not sleeping, but inactive on top of Grace's stomach right now.

"You know, what I meant earlier was that I feel like I haven't done enough of my own thing since Pastoria. You know, volunteering and stuff," Grace muttered.

"Well, you had a lot going on after."

"We all did. I mean, I won't make a big fuss about it, I don't even want to think about it, but… you know. It feels like I was just fumbling around and hoping for the best. Still am."

"You said you looked up stuff."

"I didn't send emails. I could have contacted Mallory, she has contacts in Unova."

Cecilia chuckled. "You hate her guts. Didn't she tell you she wanted to abolish all trainers and think you'd be on her side?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I really do, but well, desperate times. I don't care about her, I just want her contacts. I'll do it tomorrow."

Silence followed.

She'll do it tomorrow. The words were so convincing Cecilia had allowed herself to forget. She was pretending, yes, they both were, but by the Legendaries, that had seemed so real that they'd nearly put her off-balance. Nearly had her actually believe that yes, tomorrow she would wake up in the morning and type a message on her computer to Mallory Ryan, instead of being here and risking her life with the rest of them.

"Right," she finally said. "Tomorrow."

"Oh, do you want to stop the—"

"No, it's fine," Cece smiled. "You were just really convincing. I like it."

Terrifying, how the human mind works, Slowking added.

Grace scoffed. "Shut up. Let us have this night."

Is it me, or am I getting bullied tonight?

Toxicroak snickered at that, just loud enough to pretend she was trying to hide it, but actually not.

"Legendaries, I'm gonna have to get started on the paperwork soon. Dad said he'd help me out." Grace rolled her head toward Cecilia with a groan and hugged her waist. Mimi nearly slipped off, but they kept herself anchored to Grace's shorts, poking little needles into the fabric.

"It shouldn't be difficult. If you visit a Unovan embassy, it shouldn't take more than a day there, and they'll help you fill out a lot of the stuff. Unovan-Sinnoh relations are warm enough for the process to be streamlined. Then you'll just have to sign up for the Circuit again when you get there, but I have to do that too."

"I've got to do my taxes too…"

"What? You haven't done them yet?!"

"It'd be funny if I went to jail for tax fraud after this." She grinned, a hint of teeth flashing even though her face was still buried in Cecilia's stomach. "In a morbid sort of way, it'd be hilarious."

"We're doing those tomorrow. I'll help you."

"Thanks. You're the best. Hey, you know, I have this really embarrassing request."

"What? I thought we were past that."

Grace chuckled, legs bending when they accidentally touched Toxicroak's coarse skin. "Sorry! Um, yeah, we're totally past that. Totally."

"Tell me."

"If you laugh at me, I'm burning the house down."

"Why do I feel like you mean that?"

"Because I mean it. Sunshine would do it, he'd just ask why after the fact and complain about the reason."

Of course, every Pokemon here save for Meltan had something to say about that. The steel type wanted to see it happen.

"You're insane. I love that about you," Cece said with a hand cradling the girl's cheek. "Tell me, I won't laugh."

"Remember all that time ago when I said I wanted a nickname for you?"

Cecilia's heart skipped a beat. "That was only a few months ago in Snowpoint. Don't say it like it's been that long."

"Yeah, well it's snowy outside." She pointed toward a small window with her good foot. "And we're close to Snowpoint, and you know things like this— echoes, reflections and rhymes in my life, they matter to me, so it reminded me of it. Not that I forgot! You know, it's just that I never found a good one."

"That doesn't bother me, you know?"

"But everyone calls you Cece, and I wanted my own thing, you know? I mean, it's silly to get hung up on it now, but isn't it what tonight is all about?"

"Well, if you have an idea, shoot."

"Oh, I've had it for a while. I mean, I nearly slipped sometimes already. You know, I call my Pokemon baby sometimes— I was just wondering if that was okay?"

Arceus, finally!

"I would like that very much," Cecilia said, ignoring the fact that the inside of her head was currently celebrating as loud as a Virbank rave. Still, her lips tugged upward and she couldn't help but laugh. "Say it."

"I can't say it now. It has to come up naturally, or it'll be embarrassing."

"Say it, or I'm having Zolst blow up the kitchen."

She already had the Pokeball in her palm. A flicker of amusement passed on Grace's face. For a moment, Cecilia thought that she would ask how exactly in detail she would go about it, but the look passed.

Now definitely isn't the time for that.

"Gah! You can't use my tricks against me!"

"Please?"

Grace cleared her throat and calmly sat up, letting Mimi slide down to her legs.

She was completely red.

"Well, I better check on the lamb," she said, putting Meltan on her head. The steel type turned to some kind of jagged diadem.

Cecilia pouted. "Really?"

And she did so, speed-walking away until she reached the door, with Honey and Cass behind her. Then, she turned back. "You better be ready for it, though, because it's coming sooner or later. It'll just be a surprise."

"I don't believe you."

"Oh, it is. And when it does, it's gonna kick your ass…" then, she whispered, all sultry-like, "baby…?"

Oh, yeah, she liked this. The way she'd said it was a little forced and silly, but Cecilia's face felt warm. "That feels—"

"Bye!" The door slammed behind her.

Cece hugged her knees, her face stuck in a stupid grin.

So much for having grown past getting embarrassed.



"This is stupid."

"It's fun, Chase. Think of it as a last hurrah before things go to shit."

Chase was pissed. Pissed and cold.

He'd refused this idea of having dinner because it made no sense. Sometimes, he truly believed that his friends had gone insane, but the time to worry about that had probably long passed. He trudged through snow, which was continuously falling and constantly being cleared by plowers making their way through Lake Acuity's roads. He'd been given a coat too tight for him and his sneakers were not at all made to walk in snow. He could already feel his socks getting wet and they'd just been walking for two minutes. Their house wasn't far, not even a thirty-second walk, actually, but Mira had gotten the great idea to visit Savika for whatever reason, and she was quite a ways away. He shoved his hands under his armpits for warmth and covered his mouth with his shirt so the hot air could flow down his chest.

"I think we should be training instead," he said.

"So your Pokemon can be tired come tomorrow?" His friend scoffed, shaking her head at him like he was stupid. "No way, man. Your Pokemon are eating tonight and then going straight to sleep."

"Sig doesn't sleep."

"She does! Or she pretends to because everyone else does, but either way, it's super cute."

Chase stopped himself from agreeing with her. "It's pretending. But yes, I guess you're right. I was thinking light training anyway—"

"Relax! Tonight's just a normal night."

"I train during normal nights!"

Mira just whistled.

"Whatever. Are you gonna tell me why we're going away from the people who invited us for dinner?"

"What, you don't want to meet the woman who saved your life?" Mira teased.

"Did you see her when you came here?"

"Eh, only in passing. Hey, did you know she caught a Sneasel?"

"What? I thought she had this anti-trainer thing going on."

Mira bumped his arm with her elbow. "Hey, you can have a Pokemon without actively being part of the system she hates."

"And aren't we literally a part of that system right now? You know, this whole 'being a part of the government' thing. And, how the fuck is she even still here? Shouldn't they have kicked her out? I know Craig vouched for her or whatever, but…"

"Yeah, it is odd, but hey, maybe the League's become soft-hearted."

"Maybe tomorrow I'll get wings and fly, too. You see how adding 'maybe' to that doesn't mean anything?"

"Stranger things have happened. You can literally control people with your voice."

"That's different and you know it."

She just snickered and they kept going in silence. The base was also quiet, contrary to what Chase expected. He could see a pair of League Trainers smoking cigarettes in silence, with a Rapidash lighting them with its fiery mane. Every time a plower passed by them, the driver would have a miserable look in their eyes, and it wasn't just because they were out late plowing snow. Another group of five leaning against a building, huddled around a Magcargo as they spoke in hushed whispers. The atmosphere here was tense, to say the least. People knew to expect the worst, and worse of all, they knew Legendary Pokemon were coming, now, and that it was only a matter of time until everything went to hell. Shame seeing them like this, Chase thought to himself. He'd gone from disliking the League, to hating it after witnessing their atrocious response to Falkirk being destroyed, but he knew better but to blame footsoldiers instead of the people in power. Plus, one didn't have to be a master tactician to see that there was an issue with morale.

"How're you feeling, shrimp?" he asked.

"Excellent. I've handed my stress to another me just for tonight."

"What an awful way to approach things." He shook his head, clicking his tongue in disappointment. "I won't make a fuss about it, though. You can have your day."

Mira's lips flattened. "Thanks. I really appreciate it." She looked up at the sky, only lit up by a half a moon and the stars above. "You know, I just wish the others could be here with us. So we could all celebrate."

"I don't think they're in a celebratory mood. Only you three can come up with this whacky shit. You're literally gaslighting yourselves."

"And yet, here you are, following me."

He called her annoying under his breath.

"You're probably right, though. You have Lauren blowing a gasket at me. Hey, did you know she actually yelled at me? It only happened twice and it feels like I'm being dismantled every time she does it, even on the phone—" Mira's feet nearly got stuck in the snow, and Chase kept her from tripping. "Thanks. It gets deep around here."

He let go of her arm, not having missed the sprawling shadow that had risen behind her, just in case. "Sure. I think they keep away from that old lady's house to give her some space, so the snow—"

"And you know, I want to tell her everything. I plan to, when this is all over, except maybe without the world-ending bits."

"Yup."

"But I can't. It's already a miracle she's uninjured— did you know she was actually caught at the edge of one of the bombings? She could have gotten seriously hurt if she didn't have her Reuniclus around her all the time."

"Uhuh. That sucks."

She scoffed. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Wha— I am listening! Arceus! What, do you want me to write you an entire essay?"

Legendaries girls were so annoying sometimes. Couldn't they just walk in silence so he could be spared all of this rambling? And when he offered something back, she said he wasn't listening?

Make it make sense.

To be honest, Williams would also be constantly venting about his relationships anyway, so maybe it wasn't just a girl thing.

He seemingly got his wish, and Mira got quiet until they reached Savika's cabin, nestled along the shore of Lake Acuity. The Lake itself wasn't frozen, though shards of ice still clung at its edges, reflecting a little light. Its weathered wooden exterior was aged to a soft gray by the elements and blended into the stark, snowy landscape. The roof sagged slightly due to being covered by a thick blanket of snow, and a smaller cabin rested to the side of the main house that Chase knew contained piles upon piles of dry wood to make a fire.

Chase climbed the stairs, which were surprisingly solid. "So what are we doing here?"

"Just wait," his friend answered, knocking on the door with her good hand. The other was broken, still, but she never complained about the pain anymore thanks to another one of those mind tricks. When there was no answer, she knocked again, louder this time. "Hello? Anyone home?!"

"She might be asleep. When we stayed here she went to sleep early every night and woke up at dawn."

"Damn it… well, I don't want to be rude."

"Yes. Thank you for wasting our time here, Mira," he sighed, not bothering to hide his sarcasm.

"I just wanted to see if she could give us something."

"Like what?"

"You really won't like it."

"Oh, fuck, it's alcohol, isn't it?"

Her face twisted in disbelief. "How the hell did you know that?!"

"You know Grace doesn't drink, and I sure as hell am not drinking tonight. You're not making Cece wake up with a hangover, buddy." He grabbed her by the arm and started dragging her away ignoring her protests, but the door slowly creaked open. There was a small Sneasel there, hanging by the knob with a clawed hand, and it looked at them with a tilted head. "Oh. I guess that's the Sneasel."

It was hard to forget the fact that one of these had nearly killed him, given that he still bore that scar on the back of his arm, but he wasn't nervous. More like intrigued.

"Hey little guy," Mira whispered. She crouched and held out a hand, but Sneasel hissed, its hair standing on end. "Is Savika asleep?"

Chase watched the two interact for a bit, and he was a little amused at how little Sneasel seemed to trust others. Savika had probably raised it as a guard or something, or maybe a Pokemon to alert her when there was danger and she was sleeping.

"Guess we'll go," Mira sighed. "Sorry for disturbing you and stuff. Tell Savika that a Chase Karlson is thankful for her saving his life."

Chase tightly nodded. "...yeah, you tell her that."

They turned away.

I really wanted to see her and thank her again before…

Arceus, this wasn't like him.

"Looks like the fake alcohol plan failed, and I messed up inviting her over for dinner. Cece's going to kill me."

"Nah, she'll have that disappointed, haughty look," Chase said. He'd never seen Cecilia angry. Miffed, yes, but never seriously angry like he'd seen his other friends."And wait, dinner? So it wasn't just to get drunk."

"Wait, you seriously thought she wanted alcohol? I was just joking, Chase, we only came here to invite her for dinner. We aren't idiots."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, it was a joke. A bit."

"A joke is supposed to be funny."

"Sorry. At least this way we'll be able to be open and not hide anything. I think Cece just wanted to repay her for the help. And her disappointed look would be even worse, honestly. Makes me feel like trash, and it's like, the worst part is, she really thought you could do better, but in a good, friendly way."

"That is worse."

There was a beat of silence, and Chase reached an epiphany.

"Do you really think the League would have let you two get drunk? Stupid."

"Dude, I told you I was fucking with you."

"Oh yeah, totally," he said with a mocking laugh, then mimicked her voice. "Oh, I was only pretending to be stupid."



"Savika isn't coming," Cecilia sighed. "Shame."

"Aw. Hey, you can go see her another day."

"It's okay, I'll just… focus on this."

The table was long and narrow, stripped bare of any decorations except for the white, thin linen draped on top of it. At each seat awaited simple ceramic plates and glasses already filled with water. The centerpiece of the table was the lamb, now cut into thick slices of meat, seasoned with fresh herbs and surrounded by ample vegetables. Cecilia thought she'd done well, for having so few materials to decorate with. Soft music played in the background, a jazz album from Unova she liked, and the lights above were only dimly lit.

"Oh, this looks sweet!" Grace said. She'd just come out of the bathroom and gotten ready, given that their guests were supposed to be here at nine. A late dinner, though Cecilia knew Paldeans and Kalosians tended to eat late, too. "You did a great job— where'd you find the tablecloth?"

"It was in one of the counters, along with a bunch of others. I thought this one looked nice, though. Simple."

"I sure hope I don't drop any sauce on it."

Her eyes swept over her work one more time. "It wouldn't be the end of the world."

The food looked a lot better than she'd expected, too. Not that Grace and Honey couldn't cook, but they'd truly outdone themselves this time, even though they'd just been following a recipe. The presentation was top-notch, too.

"I figured the seating arrangement would have Mira next to Chase here." Cecilia pointed at the chairs at the edges of the table. Chase wasn't supposed to be coming, but they'd made a bet that he'd show up anyway, and it had paid off given that Mira had messaged them about it. "Then me next to Chase, and then you and Maylene— did she confirm she was coming?"

"Yes. She is sitting right outside, though, so you could have asked her." Grace checked her phone. "Six more minutes. You look really pretty, by the way. Now I feel underdressed."

She smiled. "Don't worry, you know it's just a me thing."

"Hey, I actually like dressing up now that you got me into it."

Cecilia had gotten dressed for the occasion. Since they'd gotten to bring their belongings, she had gotten one of her old dresses out of her bag, and even ironed all the wrinkles out of it. She had never ironed anything before, so that had been an entire ordeal, but she'd somewhat succeeded with Slowking's help, in the end. Oh, it was only a simple black dress with straps around her shoulders, but it'd do the trick.

"Why'd you move the chairs all to one side?" Grace asked, wandering around the table.

"There's an elegance about it, don't you think?" She shrugged, hand drumming against one of the chairs' backrests. "I've seen it done a few times in restaurants, where people all face one direction."

"It does look cool. Might make it difficult to talk, though."

"We'll manage."

If she was going to decorate, she was going to do it right.

"How'd you get Maylene to come, by the way?"

Cecilia knew the Gym Leader had saved her girlfriend's life already, but she remained curious. There was a leap between doing your duty and eating with your old tormentor and her friends.

Grace fidgeted a little. "These circumstances have a way of bringing people together, I guess. I wouldn't say we're friends, but when I asked her if she wanted to come by for dinner she said anything would be better than League rations and agreed. Plus I think others being here helps." Grace watched Cecilia straighten a fork on the table and smiled. "You know, you, Chase and Mira didn't do anything to her, so… but it'll probably be awkward anyway."

"I'm glad you apologized anyway. You thought there was no hope, once."

Traces of joy returned to her face. "That's… true. I guess things work out sometimes."

A minute later, there was a knock on the door.

"Ah! Must be Maylene," Grace said. Cece figured she must have gotten Chase's and Mira's knocks down and was making an educated guess. "Uh—"

"I'll go get it," Cecilia said.

Admittedly, she was slightly nervous. The only other Gym Leader she'd met was Candice, and she didn't really behave like one. She needed to get used to meeting important people, and fast. She spoke to Cynthia regularly, for Arceus' sake. She opened the door and found Maylene standing there with her Lucario in tow. She only had a coat draped over her shoulders, but she wasn't even wearing it properly.

"Leader Maylene." She outstretched a hand, and Maylene shook it. Firm. "It's a pleasure to have you here."

"Just Maylene. And yeah… thanks for inviting me, I guess. It takes my mind off of things, which Grace said was the goal." Maylene leaned to the side and looked inside the living room. "Uh, the others aren't here? Should I come back later?"

"No, no, please come in—"

"Okay, thanks, it's freezing out."

Then why are you wearing your coat wrong? Cecilia silently wondered.

Maylene showed herself inside, and Grace greeted her with a small wave, which she returned with a nod. So Grace's assessment was accurate. It'd be best if Cecilia could smooth things over a little tonight. She knew how much it'd mean for Grace.

Maylene glanced at the table. "Oh crap, this looks really good. Smells good, too. Lucario, take a look at this."

The fighting type smiled, licking his lips at the food, which was a strange sight. She was more used to Chase's Lucario acting serious all the time.

"Grace made it—"

"Cece and I cooked it," Grace interrupted.

Cecilia could see Grace non-verbally begging her to let the half-truth slip. She didn't really understand why she wanted to take away that accomplishment, but she let it go.

"Chase and Mira are late, as usual," Cecilia complained. "You'd think they'd manage to get here when they live literally thirty seconds away."

"Knowing them, they waited until the last minute to get Savika," Grace said.

Maylene raised an eyebrow. "Who's Savika? Can Lucario and I sit, by the way?"

"Oh, sure, go ahead," Cece said.

They passed the time by recounting their adventure through route 216 and finding Savika while Chase was almost dead. Maylene said that back then, they hadn't been considered important and so they weren't tracked for any reports to be written up, so she hadn't known about it beyond the broad strokes of what had happened. Most of their Pokemon were out, now, though the largest and most cumbersome ones were still in their balls. They'd already eaten, so they were just here to mingle and for company. They wouldn't be able to fit everyone in here, though, given that this place was rather small.

"I didn't know about the Sneasel." Maylene was slightly wide-eyed. "I can't believe you guys survived. Most new trainers just would have died."

"We were lucky," Grace said.

"Eh, luck can only go so far," Maylene shrugged. "Candice would tell me about Sneasel sometimes and how the ones off-route aggressively hunt humans through the snow for days until they and their Pokemon are too exhausted or cold to fight back effectively."

"Like Mightyena, right?" Grace asked. "They'll stalk prey for days, too."

"Exactly, but the cold version of them. They both hunt in packs, too. They call them endurance hunters."

"Ramon's Mightyena's really nifty. There's a reason he's his ace."

"Who's Ramon?" Maylene asked.

Grace's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. "What? He made it to the top sixty-four— you know what, never mind."

"The ones who attacked us kind of tried to do that, but they gave up after a while," Cecilia said. "They might have been too hungry to wait."

The atmosphere was honestly a lot better than she'd expected! But of course, Chase and Mira got here, finally, and the former got snow all over the floor by forgetting to wipe his feet before entering.

And the first thing he asked was this, for some reason.

"Did you want alcohol from Savika?"

"Excuse me?"

Mira snickered, opting to greet Maylene instead. Cecilia thought the Gym Leader might be a little overwhelmed by these many new faces, but only Grace would truly be able to tell. Maybe she was struggling to get in the spirit of pretending everything was normal.

Honestly, red wine would have been nice, she silently thought.

"This looks really good, guys. And hey, Honey, good job!" Mira grinned. She fist-bumped the electric type and mimicked an explosion.

Grace tilted her head. "Since when is that a thing?"

"Since now."

Electivire flexed, and his tails whirled around in excitement.

"What's with the table?" Chase nearly touched the cutlery before Cecilia warned him not to. "Okay! Okay! Arceus, I won't, no need to take that tone with me."

"You're being a child," Cece said. "It's just a specific style. Maylene didn't complain. She even complimented the table."

"Well, I'm not gonna complain when someone invites me…" she muttered.

Grace grabbed the entire dish. "I've got to reheat the food because of you guys. Be right back, and then we can eat."

It went like this.

Cecilia sitting at the center, flanked by Grace and Chase, who were too flanked by Mira and Maylene. They would chat, laugh and relate to each other, passing around as much food and drink as they pleased. Pokemon talked to each other too. Chase slipped scraps of meat to his Houndoom while Zangoose lazed on the couch with Sigilyph and Toxicroak. Slowking had struck a friendship with Maylene's Machamp, and was giving a comedy performance to a large group of Pokemon. Outside, Tyranitar, Hydreigon, Golurk and Abomasnow were occasionally visible through a window. The first two had needed to be barred from fighting to train and Abomasnow was largely there to keep an eye on them. Grace had talked about how Sweetheart wanted to make snow angels, so that was a nice distraction, and Golurk was a very easygoing person who'd no doubt let them go at it if they asked hard enough. Instead, he played music that crept through the windows, so warm that the fact that it was coming from a ghost surprised Maylene. Jellicent floated with Alakazam and Gardevoir, who were warming up next to the radiator. Scizor was side-eyeing Meltan for trying to eat him and used Exeggcute as a shield to distract them…

There were too many happenings to describe everything, but their home was so alive it was easy enough to forget tomorrow would ever come.

Everything was glowing.

But every good thing had to come to an end, eventually. Maylene couldn't be on break for more than an hour, and she'd already gone over that. Multiple League Trainers had come to get her, and she left first. Another hour later, Chase and Mira were about to leave, mostly because the former said they needed to sleep to be ready.

Before that, however, a conversation took place.

"Chase."

Mira was speaking to Grace in the distance, unabashed by the cold and the snow. Cecilia and Chase were alone.

"Hm?"

"I wanted to talk to you later tonight. At around one in the morning, if possible? I know you said we all needed rest, but…"

"You aren't going to tell me why?" he groaned, putting his hands up in exasperation. "First Mira, now you, I feel like I'm being dragged around all the time."

"It's serious."

His eyes narrowed. "I'll be there."

Chase had answered so quickly it took Cecilia a second to even register it. Their bond ran deep enough for him to know that she meant what she said, and she couldn't be any happier for it. They had sworn an oath on the shores of Falkirk, that they would always look out for each other no matter what came to pass.

"Thank you, Chase."

"Ah, well, what can you do." Chase scratched the back of his head and took a few steps toward Mira. "I'll see you later. I think I might know what this is about."

"Do you think less of me for it?"

He hesitated, with his back to her. "I don't."



They lay in bed together, arms and legs so intertwined Cecilia didn't know where her body ended and Grace's started. It was pitch black in the room, so dark she could only vaguely see her girlfriend's face. A shape in the shadows, unmoving, yet so close. Still, she could tell she was caressing the left side of her face, with how rough and coarse the scarred tissue was there. Countless bumps and crevices, dotting her arm, shoulder and cheek. Cecilia liked to touch the area between the scar and skin. The transition between the pristine and the hurt. Their Pokemon were sleeping in their Pokeballs— even Meltan, but Cassianus hovered next to the bed, eyes glowing slightly in the night. Occasionally, they'd make a strange chime or beep, but other than that, they were quiet.

As for them, they were not sleeping quite yet. Managing to go to sleep right now would be a feat that she wasn't quite sure either of them was capable of, though at least Grace sounded like she was growing more and more tired. They were giving themselves another hour before Slowking was forced to knock them out with Hypnosis so they were well-rested, though Cecilia had a conversation to have with Chase first.

A hand slid her hair behind her ear, and Grace's soft voice rang out. She was so close her breath tickled her lips and nose. "You okay, baby? Your body's kind of tense."

"I'm getting ready for what's to come," she simply answered.

"Today isn't over yet, is it?"

Cece laughed. "Not yet. But you know."

"Yeah. I know." She paused, placing her forehead against hers. "Do you think it's sad that we pretended?"

"I was happier today than I've been in a long time," Cecilia whispered. "Seeing you happy makes me happy, even if it's just a game. I know you put yourself into that mind space for me. Thank you."

While Cece liked to put her issues away in the deepest recesses of her mind for her to deal with at a later date, Grace could trick herself into believing they weren't there, if she was in the right headspace.

She wasn't like that anymore. Her voice no longer had that pep, and she sounded tired.

They both were.

"It's okay," she said. "I liked it. Hey, it was like we were living together, wasn't it?"

Cecilia smirked. "It was."

"You know I was thinking— maybe we combine our two incomes together next year and rent a place in Castelia. Have like, a base of operation. I know it's kind of a waste of money with the Centers, but it's… nice, isn't it?"

"I'd love nothing more, Grace." Warmth rose up in her chest like an erupting volcano, and she grabbed her girlfriend's hand. "Wouldn't it be fun to visit apartments together?"

"What if we visit apartments we can't afford and pretend we're rich?"

"I wouldn't want to waste someone's time like that."

Grace hummed. "True. I just think it'd be nice to have some stupid fun, for once."

"We can find other ways to have stupid fun. Like you visiting me at work."

She giggled. "We'll have to get Cass and Slowking better at Teleporting for that."

"It's about time, anyway. We're a little behind in that department."

Her phone vibrated on the nightstand. Cecilia turned away, ignoring Grace's whining and looked at the message. The light nearly rendered her blind for a few seconds.

Chase K.: I'm outside.

"Chase wants to talk to me," Cecilia said. She wasn't going to say the reason— not until she made sure Justin was safe. "It'll just be a second."

"Okay," Grace complained. Well, not really complained, but did that thing where she was totally complaining even though she was pretending not to be. "I'll try to wait for you. Don't forget to have Slowking out."

Cecilia slipped away from her grasp, quickly got dressed and knelt next to the bed when she was done.

She kissed Grace… a few times and whispered, "I'll be right back."

She slipped away from the bedroom.



"There you are." Cecilia wanted to complain that he could have just stood outside the house, but she'd been the one to act like this was a secretive thing. And it would be, depending on the results.

Chase turned toward her and adjusted the cap on his head. He'd been standing here in the cold awhile and pacing, if the tracks in the snow were anything to go by. It was hard to imagine Chase pacing, given that his go-to coping mechanism was to act like he didn't care about something and close himself off, but he'd done it a few times in the past.

His lips thinned. "Yup."

"Listen, Chase, I—"

"Dinner was great, by the way," he interrupted. "And you know, it was cool to hang out after so long."

Cecilia nodded. Before all of this, they hadn't seen each other since she had left Canalave for Pastoria, shortly after their trip to the Iron Islands together.

"It was fun. But I have to ask… I wanted to ask a member of the League, but I can't build up the courage to. I even failed to ask Maylene. I want to know if he's dead, Chase."

His face darkened. "Yeah, I figured. So you want me to ask for you?" he grunted. "You know what I think."

"I want us to ask together," she said with a sad smile. "I need to have all of the information before tomorrow happens. To know how to approach this."

He frowned at her, not understanding what she meant, but that was better that way.

"Fair enough. I'll help you out."

"Thank you," she exhaled in relief. "Shall we go, then?"

They weren't planning on going far, just to one of the ACEs who were guarding their homes, yet the short, minute-long walk there felt like an eternity. Cecilia's steps drifted across the snow, each heavier than the last, every single one adding to the bubble of anxiety that had formed as a lump in her stomach. The cold wind swept across her clothes, stabbing through her skin like a thousand needles and seeped deep into her flesh.

Her breath trembled.

There were many ACEs here— ten visible, and that was only the ones who weren't hiding. There was also Maylene, though she was closer to Grace's home with her Lucario, given that her job was to sense Dusknoir, if he ever came back. They reached a brown-skinned woman who was shorter than average and who was flanked by an Ariados whose legs were rhythmically stabbing into the snow. Her name was Nevaeh, according to Chase. One of the ACEs who'd been at the mansion during the raid and who had been guarding him from the start. They seemed rather close, from the way he smiled at her. They even shook hands, and he extracted more emotion out of her than she'd ever seen other ACEs show except Carlos for Mira. She felt a pang of lacking at that, for being worse at growing close to people, but that wasn't why they'd come here. Chase looked at her one last time, to make sure, and she nodded.

"Nevaeh, we have a friend who was caught in the explosions this morning in Canalave. His name is Justin Gardner, and we'd like to know how he's faring, if you have any information about that?"

Her response was instantaneous. "Ah, Gardner. His fate was shared with us."

Cecilia took a breath—

"He's expired," she said. "The explosion killed him instantly. The League is in possession of his Pokemon, though they'll only be dealt with when this is all over."

The delivery was emotionless.

Chase grimaced, his eyes tightly shut. "I'm sorry, Cece," he forced out. "I'm sorry."

Cecilia stopped breathing, and she took a step back. Two— maybe— maybe more, she didn't know.

This was real. It was real.

It was.

"Who— did this?" she asked, barely able to form the words. "Who's at— who's fault here?"

Neveah shrugged. "You're asking for individuals. Abel believes the one most likely responsible for the bombings would be Jupiter, given that she was in charge of finances and general plans like these…"

Neveah's voice faded into the background.

A flame flickered to life inside of her and instantly turned into a blazing inferno of dragonfire.

Her breath trembled, as did her fingertips until she gripped the sides of her dress so hard she could still feel her nails through the fabric. Her vision blurred, the world becoming shapes and colors no matter how much she blinked. Her heartbeat was so loud she could hear it and feel it pulsing through her arms, ears and chest. Usually, ice would flood her veins and make her think clearly, but not for this. Anything but this. It was an all-consuming blaze, leaving no room for reason, rational thought or compassion. The time for tears had gone, replaced now by the need to destroy, destroy, destroy, destroy, destroy—

Her breathing came in raspy gasps, the air seemingly combusting into her lungs and burning. She realized Chase had been holding her up. He was saying something, and she could hear the words, but not make sense of them.

Her ears were ringing.

She had come from nothing. Her father would never think she was enough, her mother was barely a human being, her brother was complacent, Amy had been fake. But she'd found people who'd taught her what true friendship meant. What love meant. What family meant.

One of the members of her family was dead. It was still so hard to believe— when she closed her eyes, she still saw him alive. Cecilia hadn't even seen him go, and she would never see him again.

The next word came as a growl, each syllable drawn out until they became barely comprehensible. A scream so incoherent only Cecilia herself could understand it.

"JUPITER."

Today was over.

Tomorrow had just begun.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, yesnomaybeso, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Tina M, Nova, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kolby, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Daruda, Mystic Corn, menirx, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Eric, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK--, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Dvn, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, Iepton, sqw4l, V4Ford, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M
 
Last edited:
Chapter 307 - Pact & Oath
CHAPTER 307 - PACT & OATH

The transition between the unconsciousness of sleep and being awake was lethargic. There was this strange, ten-second or so period of time where my body moved, but I couldn't actually tell what was happening. My arm slowly crawled to the right of the bed, and it only reached more cold, wrinkled fabric. It moved around, up and down until I realized something.

Cecilia wasn't in the bed.

I jolted awake, blinking away the last of the tiredness as fast as I could. My body panicked before my brain realized that she might just be in the living room. There didn't look to be any sounds of fighting outside and she usually woke up far earlier than I did anyway. Wiping the corner of my mouth, my eyes glanced toward Cassianus, who hovered at the side of the bed with some book floating close to one of their eyes. As usual, they closed the book and chimed one of their morning hymns, a cheerful song that had been no doubt built to greet Kings and Queens of times past the moment they woke up. Sometimes, they played the sound of nature too, but I'd told them I liked music better.

Good morning, my King.

"Cassianus, do you—" my voice stopped when I realized it was slightly echoey. "...I won't ask why you put a barrier around me while I slept." My feet swept over the side of the bed, and my toes touched the edge of the shield. Cold, and hard as steel. "But why did you not let sound through?"

The psychic blinked, arms wobbling slightly to their side. I hadn't known Claydol as long as the others, and this rarely ever happened strongly enough for them to show it, but they were nervous. I apologize for any transgressions my barrier might have caused, they said with a slight trill in their usually smooth voice. The shield suddenly disappeared, though I didn't notice visually, but with sound slowly returning to my ears. Quiet chirps of birds beyond my window, the moving of vehicles clearing snow, and the frigid wind hitting the walls of the house.

I rubbed my eyes and rose from the bed. They floated out of the way. "So? Are you going to tell me why? I'm not mad, I just… you never do this. Where's Cece? She come back last night?"

There were traces of discomfort in their eyes, but they answered nonetheless. "I told her I would not say, but… the Queen came back last night looking extremely distraught." My heart sank, but I decided to let them finish. "She watched you sleep for five minutes and seventeen seconds, then asked me to make a soundproof shield around the bed. Should I have refused, she said she would have Slowking do it, and she was very, very threatening when she spoke, and I must obey the Queen, and—"

"You're alright," I said. "It's okay, baby."

They'd been moving erratically by the end, there. They'd dropped their book and nearly knocked the light off the bedside table. Any more and they'd have returned to their computer-like speech, which was something we'd worked hard to fix.

"I'm sorry if I scared you." My hand touched their body and caressed it, fingers tracing around the tough clay. "You only wanted to help, I… I was just stressed out. I am stressed out."

"I apologize regardless." Claydol's head bobbed up and down, and they levitated through the room. "The Queen was causing quite the ruckus in the house throughout the night, but I did not hear her leave again."

"Shit."

I quickly followed Cass and opened the door to the hall leading out of the bedroom.

And there was only chaos to be found. Not in the hallway itself, since it'd always been empty, but the counter that lay at its end next to the bathroom had been shattered, with splinters of wood and shards of glass from a mirror littering the floor. I'd been about to run in when Cass held me back and asked me to please put shoes on so my feet didn't get injured and reminded me that my ankle wasn't well enough to run yet, so I painstakingly, slowly walked through the corridor.

The walls themselves were fine, though I noticed there were dents here and there. I called out to Cecilia, but no answer came despite Claydol's assurances that she should be in the living room. We passed by the bathroom, which was also utterly destroyed. Tiles that had lined the walls in neat, orderly rows were now cracked and chipped, some completely dislodged, lying scattered on the floor like discarded pieces of a puzzle. The mirror was a web of cracks, its fragmented surface offering back a distorted reflection of the chaos and our faces. The shower curtain had been thrown to the floor, and the ceramic of the sink was chipped and cracked. As we reached the living room, I began to understand that she'd done this. Not her Pokemon, but Cecilia herself.

The pit of fear and anxiety that had been forming inside my stomach jumped up to my throat and made me exhale a groan. It was a physical thing, heavy and growing.

In the kitchen, drawers had been yanked open and their contents spilled in a chaotic cascade of utensils and knick-knacks that now littered the floor. Plates and glasses were a mess of porcelain and glass, with their pieces grinding underfoot with every step. Past that was the living room, where the television was still playing the distorted sound of the morning news with its light constantly flickering and its screen also neatly shattered. Pillows on the couch had been torn open, chairs were knocked down, a potted plant was uprooted from its broken pot…

Cecilia was there, sitting on the torn-up couch and watching the broken TV. Her dark brown hair was disheveled and wild, with pieces of broken wood still sticking through, and the clothes she'd put on last night were torn open. There was an area at least five feet all around her was still pristine and untouched by her rage, or maybe it had been cleaned up. She had bandaids all over her arms and hands. Maylene was looming over her in silence with her arms crossed along with Lucario, but she looked at me as soon as I entered.

"Cece— what happened here?" It hurt to even speak, and each word had to be forcefully expelled from my mouth. I took a few steps forward, debris crunching under each step. "What happened?" I asked again.

Cecilia answered, "Grace." Yet she was still not looking my way— still looking at the screen. "Good morning."

There was something in her voice that scared me. Like the building of a storm you knew would be bad, and despite the fact that it was still safe to go outside, it would not be for long.

"Erm, it might be better if I let you two speak." There was an uncomfortable shift from Maylene. Even though I could tell she was annoyed at this, she wanted to remain polite. "I'll get out of your hair, but my orders have me inside of the house now that Cecilia tried destroying it, just in case she hurts herself really badly."

A grimace crept up on my face, and I crouched in front of Cecilia. My hands settled on her lap, which she grabbed immediately and squeezed before relaxing slightly.

Maylene scratched her cheek. "So yeah, I'll leave you two to it." Before she made it to the door, though, she turned back toward us and inclined her head, along with her Lucario. "And I'm sorry."

The door closed, and silence returned to the home.

"Sit."

I looked at Cecilia, but before I could speak she repeated herself.

"Sit. Please."

I settled next to her, hands squeezing anxiously at the torn-up couch. This was so unlike her that I had no idea how to react. No, it wasn't completely unlike her, it was just that she'd never gotten angry enough to do something like this. To let go of every scrap of normality and civility that shackled her and allowed her instincts to take over. It had happened to me multiple times, but the targets of my anger tended to be far more focused. If I was a blade, Cecilia was a fire ready to burn anything in its path until she reached the source of her ire.

But what could have gotten her so furious?

Cecilia ran her hands through her hair multiple times until it was slightly straightened out and sighed. She leaned back against the backrest, her eyes glazed over with exhaustion, and she stared directly at the ceiling light above even though it was turned off.

"I wondered whether or not to tell you this last night— agonized over this while I watched you sleep." There was a slight smile on her face, but there was none of the usual warmth. It was full of nostalgia for a happier time, and that had me tense. "But it would be hypocritical of me, to keep this from you. We spoke to each other on the phone, when you confessed about what you did to Edward Backlot and to Maylene, and we said that there would be no more secrets. You deserve to know, but I'm sorry. I really am."

She took a deep breath and looked at me.

"Last night, I spoke to an ACE Trainer and found out that Justin was dead."

The world collapsed before me. The floor and couch were swept away from under me, the walls unraveled in a thousand layers and the air disappeared from my lungs. The narrative I had spent so much time spinning disappeared like a candle in the wind and reality swept over me like a hurricane. It carried me far, so far that it felt like I was suspended in the air. Falling until every part of me would be carved by the wind and rain, and there would be nothing left of me by the end. I tried to breathe, but could only cough as I gripped my shirt where my heart should be.

"Grace." The voice was distant.

I closed my eyes and I could still see his face, smiling as he showed me the book Louis wanted for his sanctuary. Him learning to reconnect with me after darkness had robbed his personality. How happy I felt when I realized helping him was possible, if he so wished—

Further back, still. Getting him to slowly open up to us, his dreams of improving human life, the day he had entered our tent and said he wanted me to teach him how to battle because of discovering how fun it was. Hopes, family, life, his Pokemon, the years ahead of him…

None of it mattered.

It hurt. It hurt like someone was gouging my heart out of my ribcage. It hurt like my lungs were being crushed under a hundred tons. It hurt like sharpened knives were covering every inch of my skin and tearing through my muscles until they unraveled like strings.

It hurt.

It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt—

A warm embrace wrapped itself around me. Flittering wind, a breeze gentle and warm enough to feel good on your face. "You will blame yourself for this," the calmed, fiery storm whispered in my ear. Maybe calm was the wrong way to look at it. It was frozen in time until it could be unleashed at whoever it pleased. "You will wonder what would have happened, had Justin been closer to you so you could keep him shielded, or had you convinced him not to go, or had you told him to release his Audino. You always do."

"Isn't all of that true?" I begged, voice quivering.

The storm wavered, but strengthened itself until it kept me from falling further. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. But you hold within your hands the sharpest of blades, love." It picked up, now, growing so loud I could barely hear the voice itself. "Do not point it at yourself."

"Who?" I rasped. "Who should I point it at?"

This bombing plan wasn't something Mars would do. She would complain about the killing being too impersonal… because she wouldn't be able to see the suffering in person. She was a very particular way of cruel I understood very well, and this wouldn't have pleased her. No, she would have gotten bored before she even began organizing the bombings, she was far more spontaneous. Had it been Saturn, then? Or maybe—

The storm raged. Thunder boomed above me, meteorites fell through the clouds and crashed deep below, creating shockwave after shockwave.

The world was ravaged.

"I will handle it."

It, as in thing, not as in the situation. The storm spouted so much wrath with that word that it even pained me despite it not being aimed at me. It made me want to cower, to hide to not get in its way, lest it sweep me away on the way to its target as well.

"But what I said remains," the storm said. "None of this is our fault. You understand, don't you? Team Galactic must burn, burn and burn until there is nothing left but ashes. Even if it is the last thing I do, be it because I die or the world ends."

"I… understand."

"So open your eyes. Open your eyes and face this."

Light blinded me.

Claydol chimed in worry, but otherwise stayed silent. They were not one to interject when they saw themselves as lesser, still. The problem was slowly improving, but nowhere near fixed yet.

The storm— Cecilia let go of the hug, wiped my tears with her thumb, and it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the brightness morning brought again. My fist unclenched from my shirt and every heartbeat stopped bringing agony with it. It hurt, still, but it was enough to function. I'd said there would be no more moping, no more self-pity, but my friend was dead and he was never coming back. Arceus, and his Pokemon would be so devastated. Arcanine…

"Why did it have to be this way?" I asked with a trembling jaw.

"Because the world is cruel, and one must fight it if they wish to have a place in the sun. They must grow strong enough to impose their will upon everything the light touches no matter the consequences."

Be careful with that line of thought, part of me wanted to say.

But I did not say anything. Not for this. Not now. We would heal when this was all over, but the look on Cecilia's face told me nothing I ever said or ever could say would convince her otherwise, not that I wanted to try anyway.

"So— it was Jupiter, then."

Cecilia nodded, patting down her clothes so she could look presentable. "I will kill it." Her voice was as smooth as polished stone, calm and resolute. Assured. "It doesn't matter who I have to destroy in my path to do it or how much I have to toil, I will kill it on sight as soon as it shows itself."

That is where we differed.

The focus of our ire was on individuals, but she would blow everything away in order to get to her, because that was who she was and in her nature to do so, and I knew to keep myself honed in on who truly mattered. She dehumanized, whereas I knew the horrors people could bring, because they were people, no matter their origins. She would kill in an instant just to wipe out who could be a threat to the people she loved, not caring for the suffering of those who deserved it, whereas I wanted to draw out every ounce of pain to equalize their sins and make the world balanced again.

I swallowed the bile building up in my throat, but it kept coming.

She stood up. "Before I came back here, I asked the ACEs about it. They have information from Abel, who has been helpful in that regard." I scowled at the thought of him, which she didn't miss, but she simply inclined her head in apology. "I know how it behaves, the sick way it thinks, and I know of all of its Pokemon, since it led the attack at this lake."

I wanted to tell her to be careful, but we both knew what a fight like this would imply already anyway, and I had also embroiled myself in a vendetta against other Commanders. She offered me a hand. I took it, and she pulled me up. We were both in pain, but knew what had to be done.

"Did you tell the others?" I asked.

"Chase and Mira knew first. I was debating… telling Louis, but I had to. I couldn't leave him hoping, because delaying the hurt would be meaningless. It doesn't matter if we hurt him now, or two days from now if the world still exists, he will find out."

I sucked in air through clenched teeth. "But he's alone, Cece. He's alone in a bunker with no one to keep him sane. He doesn't have me to—"

To take the hurt away.

"You shouldn't have told him. You shouldn't have."

"I trust him," she simply said. "I believe in him."

I flinched away from her, inching away on the couch. "Don't act like I don't—"

"I did not say that you don't trust or believe in him at all, nor did I imply it," she hissed. "I simply have more faith in him than most."

"You didn't see him like I did. He was withering like a dying flower, he didn't come out of his room, he… he'd wished he had stayed in the dark instead of learning about the end of the world."

"And I know all of that."

"And you impose that knowledge on him anyway?" My eyebrows creased, and my foot pressed against a shard of screen on the ground. "Do you want to make him fight?"

"I don't think he will fight, no. He's a gentle soul, not at all like us. All his life, he pretended to be something he wasn't to please his father, and he's finally become true to himself."

I bit my lip, shutting my eyes and imagining the pain he must have been in. Him and the others. "What's done is done. What now?"

"You should call Maylene over, and then we'll ask her about what's happening outside."

"And then we wait."

She nodded. "Then we wait."

I shambled toward the door, with my legs still feeling slightly weak. The weightlessness that had spread through my body earlier had tricked my brain into thinking my body was heavier than it actually was, and my bad ankle wasn't helping. Seeing this, Cecilia and Cass joined to help me, with my girlfriend supporting me by the arm and the ground type brushing a slightly psychic force to my left to keep me upright. Two more, five more, ten more steps, and I was able to walk on my own without Justin's death pressing down on me as hard.

Before I opened the door, I looked back at Cece. I sniffled a few times before being able to speak again. "Did you get all the rage out of you?" My hand wrapped around the knob to stop it from shaking so much. "Uh, I mean, are you sure you're okay?"

"I—I'm sorry about that. It won't happen again, I just couldn't… I just couldn't keep it in. I tried, I really did, I managed to talk, to calmly get in the house and to warn Cass to let you sleep, but—"

"I understand."

We all had our vices.

As it turned out, Maylene had been sitting right at the door on the two steps, coat draped over her shoulders as she shivered. She shot up, nearly bumped into me, and then quickly apologized. Her anxiety couldn't be more obvious if she tried, but I believed it was because she knew Justin was dead. Everyone had known, but we'd just been pretending. Pretending because accepting reality was more painful than pulling wool over our eyes and smiling, thinking that our friend would be waiting in a hospital by the end of this with only burns, cuts and bruises.

I want to throw up. I stood there, unable to talk out of fear that any sudden movement would have me hurling on a Gym Leader. My hands gripped the doorframe and Cass gently whispered in my mind, but I couldn't— I couldn't just put it away like Cece could.

"Are you two okay?" Maylene asked. "Uh, I'm sorry about your frie— about Justin. I didn't know him, but I know how hard it is to lose someone, so… I'm sorry."

Cecilia spoke from behind me. "And I apologize for my outburst and anything I might have said. I wasn't thinking straight."

"Well, at least you're talking, now." Maylene tried to walk through, but it took me five seconds to gather the strength to let her in. She looked closely at me as she entered. "You look really bad, Grace. Do you need to—"

I vomited. Yesterday's dinner spewed out of my mouth and would have landed all over the floor and staircase to the outside had Cass not contained it in a psychic bubble, which they promptly threw out and buried in snow. Cece brought me to the broken-down bathroom, and luckily the water still worked even if half of it dripped on the floor, now. I washed my face, cleaned my mouth and used the opportunity to talk to her alone.

"Listen," I told her, not wanting Maylene to hear this. She faced me, her back to the door and eyes more intense than they'd ever been. "You have to make things right. My heart will be imbalanced, the world will be wrong so long as those three Commanders live."

It would be like a cough that never went away, an itch one couldn't scratch, a word on the tip of my tongue, constantly nagging and nagging until all three were dead.

"I know."

She'd said so before, but I was certain, now. "Good. It's a pact, then."

"An oath."

My hand squeezed hers until it hurt so the deal could be bound to something. It was flimsy at best, but it was enough.

We were ready.



Two broken girls faced Maylene, eyes no longer tired like they'd been two minutes earlier. It was as if they'd been rejuvenated by something, and they were eager, now. Eager to get into the thick of it and fight, to kill, to get their revenge on the people responsible for so many deaths.

Her hearing was, as she'd said, better than the average person's, and given that part of her job was to stop these two from doing something insane like running off to get their revenge or continuing to trash the house until it collapsed on their own head if they used their Pokemon, she'd enhanced her hearing, channeling aura from her heart to her ears to hear their conversation. It was rude, didn't respect their privacy in their weakest moment, but it was sorely needed, given that these were orders and she had no choice but to listen, especially when they were key to solving everything. What she'd heard was a vow of murder that told her they would stop at nothing to go through their pact… or their oath, whatever the difference was, if there was any. They were both sitting on chairs this time. They'd pulled two of the three that were still intact up and were sitting at the dinner table.

"So nothing happened last night?" Cecilia asked, hands intertwined together. Every few seconds, her jaw would clench and tighten. "No scouts? No attempts to Teleport in?"

"You'd know if that was the case." The Gym Leader tried to keep her voice gentle and steady not to set her off. Lucario had warned her, when she'd first entered the room and Cecilia had just been rampaging across the living room like a wild beast that she'd let her anger out of a cage, but it was currently under lock and key. "We expect it to come today regardless, but it looks like Grace's words had a real effect on Mars. We've had plenty of time to prepare Coronet and here, but obviously…"

"Obviously you hope we put a stop to it here," Grace said, tone deadpan. Too deadpan. "But if we fail, what's the plan?"

Maylene's foot tapped anxiously against the ground. "Then we suit you up, and it's onto the mountain, but… yeah, we have no idea if you'd get another opportunity to free the Lake Guardians, given that we know they'll be given to Cyrus. He's the one that's going to… summon Time and Space. He'll leave troops and his admins behind, and with the mountain behaving the way it is—"

"How is it behaving?" Cecilia asked.

"The most agitated its ever been. It makes organizing very difficult, but I'm not involved in most of that stuff, and they don't tell me much." Maylene groaned, putting her hands up. "Can you believe they have me basically doing ACE Trainer work and they aren't telling me shit? Arceus…"

The two shared a look, but Maylene had no idea what that meant.

"Uh, I'm gonna go get some water," she said. "I assume the fridge still works?"

Cecilia nodded. "I wasn't strong enough to break it."

So she tried anyway. "You two want anything?"

They both shook their heads in silence.

Well, better silence than them going crazy. Maylene got herself some ice-cold water and waited.



Team Galactic arrived four hours later. You could tell they had, by how the base came to life in a single instant. People outside yelled, the door to our home flung open, psychics Teleported right next to us and attacks started flying outside. That, and the blaring alarm that was so loud I could barely hear myself think. Maylene and her Lucario flanked me, and by extension Cece while I was escorted out and we were both put in a car. Apparently Teleporting me was too risky even with the darkness tempered because the rate of failure had jumped as soon as Mesprit had appeared. A League Trainer I didn't know the name of drove us while ACEs filled the car to the brim. Pokemon fast enough to keep up with the car ran along with it— Umbreon, Ariados, Luxray, Gallade, and the like.

And yes, it was just Mesprit, apparently.

"They didn't bring Azelf?" I asked. The car was driving so fast and shaking so wildly that my voice was, too. There was an Indeedee and a Mr. Mime hanging on the roof and shielding the vehicle as it traveled. "I guess they really can't use their power."

Cecilia was staring straight ahead. "It'd be needlessly risky. Just one slips out of their grasp, and odds are, they wake up and turn all of Galactic into paste before going back to their lakes. If they succeeded with only Mesprit last time, then there's no reason to bring the other and give me and Chase the opportunity to save them. They're removing as many weaknesses as they can."

ACEs chatted between themselves around us, mostly with military babble I didn't quite understand. There were talks of setting up a perimeter, of trying to use bug types to find a weakness in the barrier instead of brute forcing it like last time, but mostly they were worried about the time being wasted. Last time, Mars had Teleported a minute away from us at most and I hadn't needed to Teleport, but this time she was further than that, even when taking a car. Staring in the rearview mirror, I could see another one following behind us— Mira and Chase, no doubt.

We reached our destination within two— three minutes at most, with the driver having to navigate around all of the people and Pokemon moving around. I hopped out of the car and saw a glimpse of Mars… sitting on the floor, maybe? It was hard to tell, with how hard the barrier was being blown up, and it looked like they were sticking with mostly dark type moves for now which was making it even worse. Once again, psychics reinforced Mesprit's barrier, but there were fewer of them, this time. Were they saving them for Coronet?

The question answered itself when I was allowed to see a glimpse of pink hair.

The person with the Red Chain wasn't her, it was Charon. I saw slivers of a balding head with faded pink hair, a lab coat and his usual hunched posture, and I knew that it could only be him despite only having seen him once before at Valley Windworks. The chain was wrapped around his wrist and he was greedily holding onto the red gems. His Hypno was no doubt powerful enough to replace multiple psychics on his own, so they'd gambled and sent only him, a Jynx and a Medicham.

They were going to give him Uxie.

There was no time to see or check Mira's reaction behind me. Cecilia and Chase were being kept on standby just in case Azelf showed up, but otherwise she was just gazing upon Mesprit in contempt. The Legendary was at Mars' side, now, like they were hers, instead of hovering far above her. Once more, I linked my emotions to Mesprit as my eyes closed, and I plunged into their mindscape.



He was there. Charon stood there, his eyes already closed and his body slumped over, only held by Mars. ACEs and League Trainers screamed all around her, barking out orders both to people and human, and her head whirled toward Grace— she was standing there as if she was in a trance. Shit, shit, shit, how did this work again? Mira blinked, opening her senses to Uxie's gift and her head and eyes nearly exploded to how bright Mesprit was. She turned toward the Lake and tried to find Uxie, but she'd only be able to enter Uxie's mind the moment Charon freed them. All this time, ever since Mesprit had been stolen from Lake Verity, Uxie had stayed silent to her calls. They used to talk and keep up every day until Uxie grew too exhausted to continue ranting, with how far she was from their Lake.

She missed them. She really did, even if she understood only ten percent of whatever it was they were talking about. Suddenly, something disappeared from Mira's head. A presence, just gone in the blink of an eye, and it was like she was no longer whole. A light as bright as a star— a literal star appeared at the bottom of the lake, and Mira went blind from the sight. Its light swallowed all around it, and she could no longer see or even hear. Knowledge was— knowledge was loud, just so loud she felt like she was going blind and deaf. Even through her eyelids, the sheer radiance of Uxie's mind seared her skin like flames.

But she knew what she had to do.

Her breaths grew ragged and her heart nearly jumped out of her throat at the fear of confronting her uncle, but she had to do this. She wanted this. So Mira yelled, fighting against all who would want to destroy the world and she jumped into the sun.

Then,

Mira stood atop a pillar.

It was the tallest structure to have ever existed. She didn't know how exactly she knew that, but that fact was as solid in her mind as the sun rising from the east and setting in the west. There was barely enough space on the pillar for her person. She couldn't lie down, and she wasn't sure that she wouldn't accidentally fall off if she sat. Mira gulped, suddenly overtaken by vertigo so intense that she could barely think. It was as if a force was forcing her to look down, and yet she couldn't see the ground. Only the pitch black below that surrounded her. The pillar itself was made of white… bone, or something akin to it. The surface was smooth enough for her to stand on, but the rest of it was jagged and adorned with green and gold.

The only thing she could see in the distance was a mountain capped in snow, but the summit was somewhat obscured. Not by more darkness, but blurred, as if she was looking at a pixelated picture. The pillar she stood on was taller than the mountain, but something told her this was… Mount Coronet? The shape of the summit tracked, and since it was one of the most famous landmarks in the entire world, it was easily recognizable to her.

Her breathing grew more and more intense. "Shit… shit…"

What to do? Knowing what Grace had told her about the experience, it was only a matter of time until Mesprit kicked her out now that Uxie was out, and that meant she barely had a minute or so in here, where time moved slower than in reality. Or maybe her interference here would give her more time, but still, that meant that she had to actually fucking reach Uxie.

But how? This wasn't real, but Mira had an inkling that falling down all the way to the bottom of the inky darkness would mean that she would never be able to reach Uxie, and it would be extremely unpleasant to her mind. The knowledge was there, intrinsic to her somehow, yet she had no idea where it came from. Mira looked at her hands to see if there was any sign of a timer like Grace had warned, but instead of paint, she found herself disappearing.

Literally. The tip of her fingers, and her shoes now that she was paying attention was blurring and then vaporizing into nothingness as if she had never existed at all. What would happen when her feet were completely gone? Would she still be able to navigate this place, or would she crumble to the nothingness below?

Nothingness. Before common Pokemon came into the picture, humans had harnessed fire to shield themselves from the cold and the dark. To light what had been previously obscured and navigate the unknown— because that was a person's deepest and most pronounced fear. It wasn't merely an apprehension or a mild anxiety; it was a profound terror that rooted itself deep within minds, thriving in the soil of their most primal instincts. This fear was not of the dark itself, but of what unseen horrors might lurk within it, waiting, watching. The true terror of the unknown lay in its absolute uncertainty; it was the embodiment of every fear, every anxiety, every nightmare, because it had the potential to be all of them at once. It was the ultimate adversary, one that could not be seen, could not be fought, and could not be conquered, only staved off.

Mira's foot hovered over the void.

Open your eyes and mind to Knowledge. Do not fear the unknown.

Witness what it has to show you.


She jumped toward Coronet.

Her arms windmilled around her, a silent wind whipped around her hair and ears and into her eyes, yet she kept them open no matter how dry they felt. Witness. Witness. Witness. It was screaming at her within every recess, every corner, every inch of her mind. No matter what, she had to look, or she, too would be lost to the unknown. A sphere appeared below her— a bright crystal akin to what she saw when she looked at other people's heads. She groaned, expecting to land on top of it, but instead, she plunged into it like water and landed in another era.

Witness how violence defines your kind.

She fell through a battle between hundreds of men and Pokemon around Lake Acuity. The smell of death, blood and iron spread throughout her nose and throat, and she lurched at the sight of dead bodies of people who looked to be as young as twelve. They carried no Pokeballs. Only swords, spears and armor made of leather. For tens of thousands of years, there was nothing here but the occasional battle, person or Pokemon. It was as if this place was frozen in time.

But eventually,

A burst of activity.

Witness how peace and cooperation are more precious to you than anything else.

She fell through a village that hugged the shores of Acuity, small but peaceful. People traveled with their bodies covered in layers of fur and a few fire types like Flareon or Fletchinder kept their partners warm. Children went to school, goods were traded and people bathed in the warm waters of Acuity, treating it like a hot spring amidst the frigid cold. She saw it grow and grow until it housed tens of thousands of people.

Gone in the blink of an eye.

Witness how the strong take from the weak.

She fell through burning smoke and ash, the village being razed to smithereens, its people were enslaved and the earth was poisoned and salted. Piles upon piles of bodies burned, wood and silver was stolen, and Mira witnessed as Willpower unified Hisui under one banner. Knowledge had already gone south years beforehand, but this was a village she had founded, and it was no more.

Witness the impermanence of humanity.

She fell through nature having reclaimed its place here, but it wasn't for long. Soon enough, more people passed through, and then starved, or left, or died to a Pokemon attack.

She fell and saw history. History Uxie had documented, the only history they'd ever seen without the help of a shard; cycles upon cycles of chronicled human and Pokemon history until—

The world spat her out atop Mount Coronet.

She stood up with a groan, ignoring the fact that her head was spinning. All of her fragmented selves had been forcefully reintegrated within her, and even though this world was fake, it was like her head had been split in two by an ice pick. The mountain's summit was hard to make out, but the ground below her was smooth and beige even if it was horribly unstable. The broken world extended beyond her. Mira stood up with a tired exhale and blinked, hoping that it would be easier to make out where exactly she needed to go. Every movement she made, every step she took seemed to trigger a cascade of glitches, distorting the reality around her into a fragmented nightmare. Beneath her feet, the ground felt unstable, shifting unpredictably with each movement. Sometimes solid and firm, other times dissolving into a mess of screeching noise and static. It challenged her balance as she navigated the uneven terrain. The air crackled constantly, and the horizon was still obscured besides the pillar she had come from.

The sound of her movements were wrong, a blaring noise that sounded like someone was pressing pause and play on a video over and over again. Soon enough, she managed to find some kind of arch that was made out of the same bony white as the pillar had been, along with the green and the gold. It was the only normal-looking thing in here, and crossing it had her cry for something she'd forgotten by the time she made it through. Mira held out a hand to her cheek and blinked, not understanding why she felt so melancholic, but the gate led her to—

Her apartment.

It stood there, perfectly pristine in the midst of Uxie's broken mind. Knowing that time was running short, she ran there as fast as she could. Her arms were nearly all gone, now, as were her legs, yet she could move anyway like her limbs were invisible. Mira drifted across Mount Coronet until she reached the building, and the doors opened before her with a distorted woosh. Everything was exactly the same on the inside. The dinky hallway, the narrow staircase, the narrow walls, the ceiling that was just a little too high— that general feeling of crampiness that she'd grown used to, yet it was in a better state. Not new, but… years old. Yes, she remembered now. This was the state of her apartment complex right before Uncle Ernie abandoned her.

It'd be in her apartment, then. She knew that was where everything was going to go down.

Her door opened just like the ones at the entrance of the building. The paint was already chipped, but far less than she'd grown used to. The inside was in a far worse state than it currently was, however. The floor hadn't been vacuumed in who knew how long and a dust coated the inside of her nose, throat and lungs. Piles of dirty clothes were lying about, either on the ground, on chairs, or on the couch. Dozens of empty bottles of beer and the occasional liquor were everywhere Mira turned her head.

She knew exactly where Charon would be. His bedroom that he'd turned into an office where he had spent countless of sleepless nights trying to recreate Mira's mother through coding. He'd been a genius, and he'd thrown it all away. Mira hovered toward the bedroom and stopped herself from gasping.

He was there.

He was there with her mother.

She wasn't a projection, a ghost or on a screen, she was real, in the flesh, and he was touching her hair like it was gold. He was standing over her, having sat her down on his bed and was looking at her with the brightest of smiles, as if the sun was shining down his face and he was simply content. She'd never seen him this happy. Uxie was there too, but as blasphemous as it seemed, her eyes weren't even drawn toward the little Legend. They were drawn to her mother.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Charon said.

She was. Damn it, she was, and Mira wanted to sob and bury her face in her shoulder. She wanted to tell her how much she missed her. How much she wished she was still there. Loss like this was something that never went away. It was something you learned to live with, and you hoped nothing would ever open that wound again after it closed.

"Mom…"

"She won't speak. She's a vision I had Uxie make from my memory." Charon's hand dropped to his side, fist slowly clenching. "I didn't have the time to work out all of the kinks yet, and you entered this world and interrupted us before I could bring her back fully."

"You wasted no time, Ernest."

"That is Charon to you." He glared at her and clicked his tongue. "After seeing this— the potential in this, you still want to stop us? You still want to get in the way of Marie's resurrection?"

Mira stared at her mother's eyes— her flowing pink hair, the fake smile, the empty eyes—

She wasn't real.

She wasn't.

She was memory.

There was a sliver of hesitation, of wanting to let Charon finish rebuilding her from memory so they could talk, but it died as soon as her heart summoned it. She would not be led by her heart, and she had not come this far to abandon the cause because it felt good, to see her parent. If Ernie had wanted to convince her, he would have brought her Dad in too, but he didn't care about him, did he? Nor did he care about her. Charon only cared for himself and the twisted vision he had for his family.

She had to fix him, but she couldn't. Not here. Not when the world was fake.

She was but a floating torso and a head now, and circumstances hadn't given her much time, but there was nothing left to do but try.

Mira turned to Uxie, whose eyes were still sealed shut, and gave her pitch.



I opened the door to the cabin with tears still in my eyes from passing through the white arch to get here.

Getting here had been quicker now that I knew where to look and I hadn't gotten distracted by how alien everything was. The cabin itself had changed— or more like it had been filled in by things that had been missing beforehand. The layout was the same, with the coffee table low enough to be used while sitting on the thin carpet below despite the tiny chairs. There were pictures framed by wood, their image in black and white. Pictures of Mars smiling, sometimes with a Pokemon, sometimes with other people whom I had no idea of in locations unfamiliar to me. They were all laid out on a wooden dresser at the edge of the room, along with other nonsense like… physical badges I didn't recognize, jewelry, blades, and even a golden tooth. The cabin itself had been fixed from all the fighting I'd done, and there were no signs of a struggle.

Mars was there, her back to me, and she had one of the pictures in her hand— one I couldn't see.

"Where's Mesprit?" My voice boomed across the cabin's living room, and I took a second step. I pressed my weight on a chair leg with a foot and snapped it off after two attempts. It was firm in my grip, and I approached her… but she didn't even turn my way.

I was almost offended. Were we not sworn enemies— but it didn't matter. If she was just going to stare at pictures…

Pictures.

These were pictures of her before she'd lost her memories. Did that mean she used to live here…?

No matter how intrigued I was, the paint had overtaken my hands, now. This was a small cabin, so I assumed the tiny, cramped corridor next to her was the way to other rooms, like a bathroom or a bedroom of some kind. I tried making my way past her, chair leg ready to strike if she moved even an inch, but she just… let me through. Her face wasn't as dejected as I'd hoped from the fact that she'd learned she wasn't real. Instead, it was calm, almost happy as she stared at the picture of her as a child, smiling wide next to a birthday cake. This one too, was in black and white. It was almost unnaturally attracting my gaze, with how dim it was compared to the world itself.

What followed was exactly what I'd expected. A bathroom with nothing to write home about— I was surprised this place even had plumbing, but I supposed it did have a kitchen and a sink attached to the living room. What could be assumed to be the bedroom was locked shut. I rattled the handle at first, then pushed, then slammed my entire body against the wood.

It didn't budge.

I called out Mesprit's name, but there was no answer.

"They won't reply, since they no longer want to speak to you."

I flinched, knocking myself against the wall, and I would have fallen had I not held myself up. My arm swung wildly behind me but hit nothing. My eyes widened when her hand snatched me by the collar and pushed me against the ground. There was no pain, but the fact that she could actually touch me— that was— that was horrible news. My fist clenched around nothing. I'd let go of my stick.

"I don't want to fight." Mars crouched in front of me and smiled. "Not yet at least. I want to talk."

I groaned, kicking her in the shin, but she showed me there wouldn't be a repeat of last time. There would be no back-and-forth fight, no struggle, and I would not get the upper hand over her. Her leg didn't even budge, and she forcefully carried me back to the living room. I struggled, oh, I struggled, biting, scratching, tried to poke her eyes out, rip out her throat, punch her stomach— nothing worked. Something had happened for her and Mesprit to completely bond and now I was screwed.

Mars threw me onto the living room floor, and I tumbled a few times until my head hit something. It took a moment for me to realize it was one of the coffee table's legs. Mars sat to face me and calmly waited.

I shot up to my feet and ran toward that room again, but the result was the same. The door would not open. I picked up the stick from earlier and tried to use it to break through the wall instead of the door, thinking that it might have been some magic bullshit keeping me in, but wood against wood didn't work any better.

Fuck.

There was nothing else to do.

"You done?" Mars eyed me with a curious eye as I made my way back, and it took everything not to throw every insult I knew her way and not to flip the table in her face.

"So the caricature wants to talk to me?" I tried in hopes that instability would lead the door to open.

"Funny. That won't work anymore."

I bit my lip. No other leads, Grace. Let her talk. "So what, then?"

"I'm not real. I know that, now," she said with a sad smile. "I haven't talked to Dusky about it, but Cyrus told me everything."

"And you don't think he was fucking lying to use you like he's used you for years?"

Mars rolled her eyes. "Stop trying to split us apart. I wanted to thank you, and this is how you act?"

A scoff escaped my throat. "Thank me?"

"Well, you and Mesprit for opening my eyes. Everything makes sense, now."

This wasn't going well.

This wasn't going well at all.

I had no idea what Cyrus had put in her head, but there was no way I was going to be able to fight that off. Had he planned this— to own someone and have them bound so tightly that he could by extension control each Legendary to this extent? Last time, Mars' hold on Mesprit had been so much more unstable. There'd been weaknesses to probe at and insecurities to attack. I expected it could have been a little harder, but to the point of not even letting me see Mesprit? Mars continued rambling about how her mind was clear and how she appreciated me, and other nonsense while I thought up a strategy and acted like I was listening, because if we failed here…

It wasn't over, it was never over until I died, but it'd be the worst-case scenario.

"What did Cyrus tell you?" I asked.

She leaned forward against the table with a gleam in her eye that told me she wasn't used to people asking about her. There was no point in pretending to be friendly or to care about her. Mars wasn't stupid, she'd know it was a trick.

"What do I get in exchange?"

"What do—" I stopped myself and took a deep breath. There wasn't time to get angry. "Is there anything I'd be willing to give you that you would even accept?"

"Yes! When we meet in the real world, I want us to hang out for… thirty minutes before we fight. As sisters."

"Sure," I said. Sisters didn't have to be friendly. Sisters could kill each other, too, and who knew, maybe that was what sisterhood was like to me with her. She hadn't specified no Pokemon, either. Not that I wouldn't have lied to her anyway, even if it would have felt wrong. "Anything else?"

"Okay. It's a promise?"

"Promise."

For a moment, I thought she'd hold out her pinky, but instead she finally leaned back, and I realized how much pressure she'd been putting on me by just being too close. My shoulders untensed and I rubbed the back of my neck.

"I used to be dead," Mars said. "These pictures you see here, the trinkets, the cabin, it belonged to me when I used to be alive. Maybe my subconscious created it anyway, but only filled in the blanks after Cyrus spoke to me. I think the places we keep the Guardians are supposed to be important to us— but I digress!" She clapped her hands in excitement as if she was telling a story, and then repeatedly drummed them on the table. "Dusky brought me back from the dead! Me and my team!"

I used to be dead. The words bounced in my head over and over. The person I'd grown to be linked to was a ghost. Not a ghost type Pokemon, but a ghost. A revenant who came from a time past.

"I had the same reaction when he told me," she giggled. "Dusky tried to give me my memories, too, but he couldn't because it was too difficult and it had been too long, so he decided that we should have a fresh start. He kept them from me to protect me."

"To protect you? Come on, he did it to control you, Mars." If I wasn't going to get Mesprit out of this, then I at least wanted to plant seeds of doubt again that would hopefully last, this time. "There's no other reason to keep you in the dark."

"Well, Cyrus says that's wrong." Her face twisted into angry frown. "I'll talk to Dusky about it eventually, and I'll see what he says, but they wouldn't lie about that when I have control over one of the Guardians!"

Scratch that about her not being stupid. "You said you know deep down that Cyrus doesn't care about you. He's using you and your Pokemon as tools— you literally can't die!"

"Oh, we can die, it's just harder to kill us."

And thank Arceus for that. At least I knew, now.

"The point remains, you're an incredibly powerful trainer. Someone who's been kept in the dark like you are is easier to control. I would know. You should know."

"Then why would he tell me about it now?"

"Because you—" Deep breaths. Calm down. I grounded myself by gripping the table's leg so hard it shook. "Because you were asking questions, and it was the best way to keep the situation from unraveling at the seams! He doesn't even have to make a convincing story either, because he only needs you to be on his side for like twenty-four more hours!"

"You don't get us."

I gestured at her, trying to make sense of her existence. Was this what she was like, without being obsessed with cruelty and murder? It was like arguing with a damn ten-year-old! "There is no 'us' with you and Cyrus!"

Mars smiled, bright and true, like she was a girl in love and her eyes shone like the sun. "He kissed me."

Disgust flooded me, and for once— for once, I let a sliver of pity reach me. Pity that collapsed and burned to a crisp the moment I made sense of it, but it had been there nonetheless.

He had her.

And that is when I knew, despite the fact that the paint had still only reached my arms, that I would never win no matter how much time I had.

Time passed.

We spoke.

None of it mattered.

I slowly opened my eyes as cold wind prickled my skin and saw Uxie within Team Galactic's barrier. Mira lay by my side, on her knees and heaving with tears flowing down her face and freezing on her cheeks. Her hands— including her broken one— gripped snow through the agony movement brought and dug, dug and dug until Chase, Cecilia and a nearby ACE all restrained her.

Team Galactic disappeared, leaving Charon's Hypno behind.

It was either dead or unconscious due to the strain aiding Mesprit had put on it, along with the other psychics they'd brought.

"He used…" she choked. "He made her talk to me." Her words were barely coherent between sobs. "I'm so—sorry. She said things, and I know she wasn't real, and I was so close, but when she started talking I just— I couldn't make my chance count, I'm fucking worthless!"

I sat down in the snow, uncaring for the cold and wet, and a sigh left my mouth. I was too emotionally exhausted to offer any support that wouldn't seem fake, though I guessed with what Mars had told me about memories, Mira was talking about her mother, and I had no doubt Uxie would be far more proficient at bringing those to life.

It made me an awful friend. Chase was there, and Cece was trying her best, at the very least, but I just…

Long day ahead.



Hands.

Hands, hands, hands. They touched me under my arms, on my legs, my back, my stomach and knees. They covered me like a second set of skin, with constant assurances and voices buzzing in my ears like Cutiefly. Every time, I would answer with 'yes, I understand', and they would nod and keep going.

First, I stepped into my base layer, a second skin designed to wick moisture away while retaining warmth. Over this, they layered fleece for insulation, with its fabric helping against the biting cold. My outer shell was a fortress against the elements— a high-tech, waterproof, and windproof jacket and pants, their bright yellow colors a stark contrast against the dark within the caves. My feet were encased in insulated mountaineering boots that were just as heavy as they looked, with a certain rigidness around my ankles. There were gloves, too, thicker than I'd ever worn to keep me shielded against frostbite. On my head was a helmet with a light, and on my back, a backpack full of supplies, flashlights, hyper potions, batteries and ropes if I ever needed them. It was so large that it was nearly taller than I was, and I already knew I'd have to make either Honey or Angel carry it. The trainers around me tried to quickly teach me what everything was for, and I did my best to pay attention to every minute detail. 'Yes, I understand,' I said again.

Most importantly.

My backpack had a few oxygen tanks that I'd need if I didn't want to die near the summit, if we ever got that far, along with a dark breathing mask that looked like it'd fit right on a hazmat suit.

A voice among the sea of voices spoke out to me. "Your Pokemon should be able to handle the lack of oxygen better than you, but should it become a problem, you'll be able to share some oxygen with them using this." They handed— never mind, they strapped some other mask on my bag, this time, since it was full. "It's made of stretchable material and should fit on your Togekiss, Electivire and Turtonator's mouths, though obviously they'll go through oxygen much faster than you. The rest should be fine, even up the mountain. The ACEs will give you theirs and sacrifice themselves if need be, but if you're ever separated…"

"Yes," I calmly said. "I understand."

Around me, Cecilia, Chase and Mira were all being given the same speech. The same words, the same, countless hands, the reassuring smiles hiding terrified faces hoping, hoping we knew what we were doing, hoping that their families would be alive by tomorrow, hoping their dreams, goals and aspirations still mattered, hoping they would see the sun rise again.

Hands.

Hands and faces.

"Yes, I understand."

I understand what you want from me. I want that from me, too.

A one-eyed Alakazam strode into the room, spoons floating behind him. We'd been put in the headquarters of the lake, although a private room where only members of the League with a certain clearance could enter. I recognized him as Lucian's. His missing eye was a testament to how far Ditto technology had come, and what the Pokemon who had fought before its spread had missed. He scowled at me as soon as our eyes met, but it passed soon enough.

I shall bring you to the base of Mount Coronet, Alakazam said. His spoons softly dropped in his hands after he flexed them a few times. Any questions? No questions.

He'd barely let us speak, but to be honest, he was right. There were really no questions.

Let's go, then.

The cold was replaced by the heat of approaching summer, and I could feel the sun on my face again. I'd start suffocating in this getup soon, but I knew the mountain would grow cold only a few minutes inside, and putting this on had already taken ten minutes, so I wasn't taking it off again.

We came face to face to Mount Coronet, along with a makeshift camp at this entrance, which was… near Celestic, if that fog I could see far off in the distance wasn't just me going insane.

Rugged stone and jagged edges. Mourning like they were alive.

It stretched so tall. Up, and up, and up, and—

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, yesnomaybeso, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Nova, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Eric, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Dvn, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, V4Ford, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G
 
Last edited:
Chapter 308 - Ascend, Children of Coronet
CHAPTER 308 - ASCEND, CHILDREN OF CORONET

The hugs felt a little artificial, with these suits making us unable to feel our warmth and given the fact that we'd just lost Justin. It was like a stopgap— or putting a bandaid over a bullet wound. Pauline's face looked like she'd just cried for two hours straight, because she had. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her face was stained by dry tears. Even now, in my arms, it looked as if she was on the brink of breaking. My hands ran all along behind her, from her neck to the small of her back so she could feel safe in my arms, but again, it was nowhere near what she needed. She would be mourning like this for a long time, and part of me felt like I should have been, too, yet I had a job to finish before I allowed myself to cry again.

Emilia's hug was far less succinct than Pauline's. She was, for the time being, holding herself together enough to speak.

"I'm so sorry." I didn't know why I was apologizing. No, that was a lie. I was apologizing because I'd been the last one with him. "I… there are no words."

My friend sniffled. "I still didn't believe it, you know?" she whispered. "When— when Cece sent that message, I couldn't even register the words I was reading. I wanted there to be a reasonable explanation so desperately, but I was just being stupid. He's just… gone."

That was death, sometimes. There was no time for any goodbyes, and maybe the last time you'd seen each other would be horribly mundane. Like that breakfast we'd all had together before Justin and I headed to the library. With the benefit of hindsight, you wanted it to matter. For your last conversation to be meaningful, instead of it being about buying stupid books, or the words being 'see you later' with a wave and a smile.

There was no later. But you couldn't know that until it was too late.

Maeve's hug was not as short as Emi's, but it was cold. Like brushing my skin against cold metal. She took a while to return it, as she had with Mira, but it warmed when she did. She was still in there, deep down, but she had shielded herself within layer after layer of walls so she wouldn't be hurt any longer.

I wanted to ask how she was feeling, or if she was okay, but we both knew the answer to that already. Maeve had basically been Justin's nanny from Sunyshore to Pastoria, and they'd grown very close. To have him gone now was brutal on her, even if she hid it well from the others. Her nails dug into my suit and her eyes shut tight, like she was holding back tears. From what I knew, she hadn't cried even once.

"We'll get them," I said.

"We will."

And that was all that needed to be said.

Denzel was next. He tried to smile at me, but failed so, so terribly that his visage collapsed and he started sobbing. Not even he could be our light, not today. He was so much taller than me, yet he held onto me for dear life, squeezing until all the air was sucked out of my lungs and his tears dripped down my shoulder. The only thing I could do was be here for him, and to try and be a good friend. My batteries had recharged some, since we'd lost at Acuity.

"I knew it, deep down. I knew from the minute you told me he was caught in an explosion and he wasn't with you when you came," Denzel sobbed. His voice quivered, and he struggled to start his next sentence. "I— I wanted to believe so desperately, but I just couldn't. Still reading the words was just—"

"I know." I held on tighter, biting my lip until it hurt. "I know."

This was going to scar us forever. Around us, the others were comforting each other, too. Our friends had been in an isolated part of camp, or as isolated as they could be, given the circumstances. This place wasn't as built up as the Lakes. There were no walls, no trenches, no paved roads, but any area with such high concentrations of troops could be called a fortress in its own right— or at least it was, when not dealing with Legendaries. This was only one entrance— the one closest to Celestic. Hundreds of tents, dozens of bathroom stalls and even a makeshift Center with a League-approved Nurse Joy littered the area, stretching for miles around the base of the mountain. The League had somewhat appropriated the Ranger Station on this side of Coronet for themselves, but it still wasn't enough to house all of their troops and heal every Pokemon who'd been wounded in previous attacks, hence the expansive network of tents.

Hearing Coronet's tremors was something I'd need to grow used to, though. It sounded like a constant earthquake from deep within the crust of the earth itself.

When the hug ended, I asked. "Have you gotten word about Louis?"

"No. Not yet," he cried. "But the League confirmed that he was alive. He's quiet."

"Quiet? What does that mean?"

"I don't know. He's thinking. I have a word to say to Cece about being so reckless, he could have hurt himself, or something."

"She said she believed in him, but I…" I looked at her. She was hanging at the edge of a conversation between Mira, her and Emi, only talking when talked to. "I think it was reckless, too, but she's not in a place to listen right now."

My best friend scoffed. "Wha—"

"Can you do it after everything's done?" I gripped his wrist and looked into his eyes, but he avoided my stare. "Please."

"...fine. I can't speak for Pauline, though."

Our friend was being 'cheered up' by Chase, which in normal circumstances would be unheard of, but these times were anything but ordinary.

"You look tired," I said.

"I haven't slept since I came here. I can't."

"You'd better get some rest before everything goes down." I patted him on the arm. "Just lying down is better than nothing. Trust me."

"I'll try later," he reluctantly nodded.

The reunion was, as expected, relieving, but also so sorrowful, because no matter what happened today, Justin wouldn't be coming back. My friends distracted me enough so that I didn't feel nauseous, and I focused on the task ahead. Denzel explained that the inside of the mountain was nearly impossible to navigate by the League, but that Cynthia had already gone inside in hopes of reaching the summit before it got even worse.

When I asked what even worse meant, he'd told me that it meant truly impossible to get through the mountain's many layers in groups larger than a few individuals. So many troops were available, yet organizing them would be a fool's errand. In the end, they would all be stuck on their own or in tiny bands, climbing up the mountain without an ounce of strategy.

"It's like gambling," Denzel said. We sat in a group around him, with a bright light lit up to illuminate the surroundings. It was daytime, still, but it had started to rain now, and the sky was overcast. "You basically go in and hope for the best, but odds are you aren't going to make it very far unless you're Team Galactic."

"Because they have the Lake Guardians," Emilia said.

"Yes. But the League thinks you four—" he pointed at me and the rest of the shards, "—might be able to bypass that. You'll hear about it in the debriefing. What time is it?"

Chase checked his phone. "It's in an hour. An hour and thirteen minutes."

"Alright," Denzel sighed. "But yeah, it's fucked in there. Really fucked."

Yet we were all going to need to go in anyway.

The briefing was, as Denzel said, basically there to tell us how the mountain seemed to be functioning. Never had they seen it behave this way. Not only had every pattern for spatial distortion just completely gone out the window, but time inside went slower than outside, making waiting for reinforcements from out of the mountain far more difficult than normal. How much time has Cynthia been in there, then? I pondered. From our perspective, a few hours only, but from hers? Double the time? A day? More?

When we were going to go inside the mountain, would a few days in feel like a few hours out here? That meant that the moment Galactic entered, from their perspective, the world would only have a few hours left.

I took a deep breath.

It was only my second time seeing Aaron— the one who gave the briefing. It was odd, seeing someone so young in a position of such power, but that was probably how it had felt like to see Cynthia become Champion all the way back then. None of us spoke to him, though he did spare us a look as he left. He too, was going to go inside Coronet early for reasons unknown, along with Flint and Craig.

Before that, however, the latter passed by to see us.

It had been difficult to tell at the time, but Craig had looked far more youthful, back when we'd first met him. Even when he'd been recovering from that wound on his leg, he'd had that boyish smile to him that you couldn't help but return. That charisma that had propelled him to the top, not only skill-wise, but connections-wise, too. Today, now that he knew everything that was at stake, he looked old. It was the little things, like the stress lines on his forehead and next to his eyes, the messy look with the uneven stubble, the way every breath seemed to take so much out of him.

Craig Goodwill, for the first time, allowed himself to look tired. There were other LTIP Trainers present, but none were as skilled and powerful as he was. The fact that he was joining Elite Four members on this secret mission proved that Cynthia considered him their equal, at the very least.

Oh, he tried his best to put his public face back on the moment we started speaking, but I could see through him, now. The small talk was only leading to what he really wanted— to speak to Mira alone.

Just as they left, Denzel's phone rang.

It was Louis.

We all grouped around Denzel, demanding he put the Poketch on speakerphone so we could also hear, but he waited until he was sure Louis was fine with it to actually do so. Our prying stemmed from a place of worry, but there was always the possibility he'd be angry at us like he'd been with Emilia. We all spoke over each other, mostly asking if he was alright.

"Good afternoon, everyone." His voice shook at the other end of the line, like he'd just finished crying. "First of all, Cece."

My girlfriend just watched the screen, her face unmoving.

"Thank you for telling me so early," he said. "Thanks to you, I've had time to… get ahead of things."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"First of all, getting the funeral planning started." The statement hit me like a truck. I closed my eyes and ignored the prickle in my heart. "Second, finishing negotiations to get my sanctuary started."

Denzel spoke, "But the money—"

"I delivered the news to Al," Louis sighed. Al was short for Albert— Justin's father, and CEO of Pherzen. "He'll help me with the funds, along with the funeral. He's as crushed with this news as we all are. Justin's Pokemon will be the first to be in my sanctuary, if they wish to be."

"Louis— Louis, that's beautiful," Maeve muttered. "Thank you."

"I'm not fighting," he said. "And I think I'm still… running on the adrenaline from the news, and that I might crash and burn horribly, but if I'm not doing anything II might as well be doing this. Preparing things for when you all return."

Cecilia smiled, and a relieved sigh left her.

How many times could a man be beaten, for him to rise again and again? I'd asked myself.

It seemed like the answer still hadn't been reached, and thank Arceus for that.



Mira hadn't expected Craig to take her this far.

He Teleported her to some kind of grasslands way to the south of Sinnoh, if she was reading the temperature and terrain correctly, and his Orbeetle had done so like it was nothing. She remembered hearing that Teleporting in or close to the mountain was incredibly difficult ever since the third Guardian had been stolen, but that meant Orbeetle was at a skill level similar to Lucian's Alakazam, Teleportation-wise, at least, which was insane considering Craig had only owned her for a year. The tall grass here reached her waist and prickled her hands and wrists— she had taken off her gloves due to the heat.

Pressure built up in her head as the last of her minds came together, and a throbbing pain returned to her broken hand. She'd moved it too much in her grief, after hearing her mother talk and failing to get Uxie out of Ernest's hands.

Hearing her again…

Hearing her again hurt so much more than she could have ever imagined, and the worst part was, she was memory, and she always would be. It was as if Charon had poured salt onto a wound that would never heal, and done so with love. Hearing her mother say that she loved her, that she wished she was still here to watch her grow up, that she missed her.

It had been too much, and now Mira was tearing up again, damn it.

"Oh. Sorry?" Craig's eyes widened a smidge in surprise. "Should I bring you back? I wanted to get away from Aaron, that guy's bugs listen in on everything—"

"No." She sniffled, wiping her eyes with her good hand. "No, I'm fine, sorry."

Craig patted her on the shoulder, and Mira would have laughed at how awkward it was, had she not still been emotionally recovering from her mother and Justin. Craig clearly wasn't used to people Mira's age— or no, the more accurate way to put it would be to say he was used to handling them a certain way. His sister hated physical contact, and you could count the hugs she gave on the fingers of your hands.

Hence, the awkward shoulder pat from as far as he could be.

Mira knew Craig would have given her ample time to recover from her breakdown, but she also knew he had a mission to get to, so she split herself in two again and shoved everything toward her second self, and suddenly Mira felt stupid for ever having cried. I'm fine, she told herself, and he knew it, too.

Craig fiddled with his Orbeetle's Pokeball. To Mira, he'd never seemed like the kind of guy to have to keep his hands moving when he was nervous, but these were unprecedented times. "You know—" he cleared his throat and started again. "I called Lauren earlier."

Ah, so that's what this was about. It made a lot more sense, now.

"Was she rude?" Mira asked.

"No, no, it was a very good phone call, all things considered. You know, she was a little irritated at being kept out of the loop, but she said she missed me. And uh, that she was with our parents, waiting for me to come back." He smiled, and though Mira was no Grace, she found it to be sad. Wind swept across his hair, and he looked across the horizon. "Yeah. It was nice, talking to her and my folks. I considered swinging by, but I figured it'd hurt too much."

Mira didn't like how this conversation was starting.

He was talking like he was already dead.

"That's nice," she said, not knowing how to answer.

He inhaled sharply. "Hey, I'm gonna keep this short. Lauren's… well, you know how Lauren is. I'm glad she met you and your group this year, and I'm glad you kept her out of all that dangerous shit." His fingers traced around his Pokeball's release button. "You guys are basically her first friends, and I'm happy about that. But she's closest to you."

"Is she?"

"She talks about you all the time, even before today," Craig said. "Usually it's just battling, but you've carved yourself a space and she really, really likes you, which is why she might have gotten kind of intense the last time you spoke."

Mira grimaced. "Did she tell you about the fight?"

"In great detail. Every second of it," he laughed. "Sorry, I know it's none of my business, but if she was venting to me out of all people it means she needed it."

"It's your business! She's your sister—"

"She's grown up, now," he interrupted. "I'm not going to know everything about her, and that's okay. But I wanted to ask you a favor."

"Ask and I'll do it."

"If I don't make it and you do," he said, his face slightly pale, "take care of her for me."



"Come on. Leave him alone, he's going to need this."

Tangrowth sat underneath a cone of light with his eyes closed, greedily soaking in as much sunlight as he could. Mimi didn't quite understand why their favorite playmate wasn't available any longer. We'd be in a cave without sunlight for possibly days, so we both figured it'd be best for him if he stored as much energy as possible. Now, ordinarily, it was raining, but I'd gone to the edge of camp, away from the Ranger Station and the tents to use Princess to clear the weather a little bit. When she'd soared into the sky and used Defog, I couldn't help but be reminded of Nightstalker.

Of course, Nightstalker could clear miles and miles of clouds while all she'd done was clear a small area instead, not because she couldn't do more, but because she'd be needlessly exhausting herself.

I picked up Mimi in my hands, and they inflated, swelling to twice their size, which still wasn't much. Enough to barely fit in my palm.

Honey was looking at the sky, cheering his sister on while Sweetheart was grumbling because she'd rid them of the rain, and Buddy was chatting with Cass about strategy to keep me alive in Coronet. We would have ACE bodyguards, but we all knew those wouldn't last that long.

Sunshine grunted beside me, asking if I'd ever seen Tangrowth focused on something like this.

"He was when he was learning Vine Terrain," I said. "You were too busy learning Fire Blast to tell, but he's been getting less distracted."

He answered by saying he wished he'd been there to see that.

It wasn't like him, to be so sentimental, but I didn't press him on it. We knew today was special and could potentially be our last. I had no grand speeches left to give, no rallying cry. It was just duty. There was nothing glorious about that. Instead, we enjoyed each other's company, and they took my mind off the fact that one of my closest friend was dead.

Gone forever.

I lifted my hands up to my face, and had Meltan face me. "Hey. It's going to be time to get back in your Pokeball soon."

The steel type's eye wobbled.

"Don't cry. We promised, remember? This is it. The day I warned you about when we were at the hospital."

Acknowledgement radiated out of them in waves more intense than I'd ever come to expect. I squinted at the slight headache and caressed the top of their head with a single finger. Mimi complained, clearly not liking the texture of the gloves I was wearing.

Yet.

There was something far more serious about them. The way their eye was as smooth as polished steel and utterly unmoving, their body kept a tough, solid consistency instead of the usual gooey substance, and they seemed to shine slightly brighter, as if they were stealing light itself from Angel.

No words were spoken, only warbled concepts, but what they were saying was as clear as day.

You are a violent creature, Mimi had said. But you fight, fight and fight against it in a way I cannot help but admire. Do not lose that fight today.

I was reminded of the Eternal Alloy, their progenitor, and I gulped. "I won't. It'll just be the Commanders. We promised."

Then, the moment was gone, and they returned to the childlike Mimi they usually were.

It was only an hour later, that the first alarm blared in the distance.

Team Galactic had broken through another entrance so quickly that the League hadn't even had the time to Teleport us.



When Maylene and the League had told us Mount Coronet was more agitated than it had ever been, I hadn't expected it to literally be shaking. Constant tremors, ran through the cave, grinding plates and stones, shifting earth and swirling dust combined into a symphony that sounded like mourning to me, even more so than it had been from the outside. My boots ground a small pebble underfoot as I struggled to keep focused. We'd left— no, the more accurate way to put it would be that Coronet had ejected us away from the well-patrolled and lit parts of the mountain already.

Darkness was absolute, here. It weighed me down like a physical thing, pressing down my back until it was hard to breathe. A dozen rays of light illuminated the path ahead, from me and the ACEs, who were also donning the suit I'd been given, but also from our Pokemon. For my part, there was the glow from Sunshine's shell, Cassianus' eyes, and Honey was constantly sending pulses of electricity forward and there was a slight glow around him. It reminded me of the first time we'd been trapped here, and he'd been forced to spin his arms to create a source of light so we'd be able to navigate the cave. Sweetheart could see perfectly in the dark, but she remained in her Pokeball. With me were Maxwell, Ariel, Maylene and a bunch of other ACEs I didn't know. Not all of our Pokemon were out, not yet. The more of them were out, the more there was a chance they'd get thrown off to a completely different location. This was the same reason we'd only gone in a small group and needed to separate from the others.

The cold was something barely felt, with my special suit and Sunshine right next to me, but I knew that would only be temporary. At the highest of heights, the cold would permeate through all. Even heat and Cass' barriers. Part of me wondered if we were too numerous, but we were banking on getting enough of us to the second layer, or at least that's what Maxwell had said. He didn't want me to be alone, because I'd 'get myself killed.'

There was a smell to the darkness, an earthy scent of mineral and moisture, a hint of something ancient and untouched. In places where the path narrowed, I could detect the faint, mineral smell of hidden pools. There were scant signs of life in those, though a Remoraid poked her head out as she trembled in fear. No Pokemon had attacked us yet— in fact we hadn't seen anywhere near the number that should have been out and about, and we all knew it wasn't because we were too threatening as a group. The usual groups of Zubat and Golbat attached to the ceilings of the cave were instead fleeing in the opposite direction we were going in, Geodude and Graveler cowered in corners, huddling in small groups and whispering to each other. Once, two Machop even ran through our group, uncaring of the danger we posed, and one of them went as far as bumping into an ACE's Hariyama.

Everywhere, the young looked for guidance in the old, asking, has this happened before? How bad will this get? Should we abandon our home, our sacred mountain? Coronet, o Coronet, why are you crying so? A Carbink, old and scarred by the centuries, led a congregation of over a hundred rock types, the largest group we'd seen so far. Their gems glowed in the dark, illuminating the audience without us having to flash our lights down the ravine they were in. Over a hundred eyes looked back at us as we crossed above them—

Graveler, Rhydon, Roggenrola, Aron, Rolycoly, Lunatone, Solrock— yet they said nothing. Their gazes were piercing. Judging, for Pokemon were used to humans being the cause of a lot of their issues. But the worst part of it, was that…

Their stare. It was helpless.

Have faith, Carbink would answer. Have faith, for that is the only thing we can do.

It was difficult not to stop and explain, or to try to tell them that everything would be okay. Painful, even, so much so that I found it hard to hold back tears. Their sorrow, their worries, their anxiety, I could see and feel it.

But we couldn't stop. We had to catch up, but it was difficult when Coronet itself was being forced to work against us. We had to walk twice as long to get half as far, and my ankle still wasn't at one hundred percent. The fact that we had to slow so we didn't lose any ACEs to the mountain didn't help, and we'd already lost two. They'd disappeared in complete silence and without any warnings behind us.

"We should be close to reaching the next level in the mountain," an ACE said. She was looking down at a device— large, circular, and cumbersome to carry, but that apparently helped navigate the constantly shifting cave. "Prepare for the crossing."

Maylene bumped my arm with her elbow and whispered, "Still feeling no pull?"

I shut my eyes. "It's difficult to… focus. I'm getting overwhelmed." When I opened them again, there were so many dark colors swirling about that it was giving me a near headache. "I— only know that they're above us, which is obvious. Detail is hard in here."

The bubble of anxiety within her heart grew a smidge, though she barely allowed it to show. "Okay. Let us know if you figure anything out, okay?"

"Yeah."

"If you want, I can carry your bag." Before I could even answer, she was already beckoning me with her hand. "You're tired and we're not even ten percent of the way up yet. We can also have one of our Pokemon carry you—"

"I'm fine," I whispered back.

While I'd planned to have one of my teammates carry my bag, Honey was the only one with the correct body shape to do so and he was currently on lighting duty. Even if I released her, Tyranitar's scales might tear the bag, and Angel had to rest with the energy from the sun he'd stored all day. The less he was in the dark, the better he'd perform when the time came. Electivire had already asked multiple times, but I had refused. We were barely even starting to ascend. The least I should have been able to do was carry a stupid heavy bag.

Unfortunately, Maylene had other ideas. She basically stole my backpack and carried both hers and mine like they were lightweight, with one strap around each shoulder.

"Don't make a fuss about it," she huffed.

Legendaries, I'm so out of shape.

I understood how right she'd been when we reached the first staircase.

Calling it a staircase was a misnomer, but it was apparently the official term the League went with, and it was only one of many, even at this level. The path beneath my feet was a treacherous one, made up of jagged rocks and steep inclines that seemed to conspire to slow my progress. Stalactites loomed overhead like the sharpened spikes that threatened to fall at the slightest provocation while stalagmites rose up to meet them, creating a jagged landscape that would have been enjoyable in other circumstances. I knew given the fact that the ACEs had grouped up and created a psychic barrier above our heads that they would fall, and it was surprising they weren't already due to the tremors. Maylene and I flinched when a spire of stone shattered against it, though the ACEs barely reacted.

The transition between layers was when the mountain was at its most agitated. A tremor nearly brought me to my knees, and I knew the impact would have bled me had I not been wearing so much protective gear. The shaking was making it difficult to even walk, and I had to recall all of my Pokemon so they wouldn't get lost in the crossing. My ears were full of pressure, making it hard to hear what anyone was saying. Eventually, the steepness grew to such levels that we needed to crawl up, but soon enough—

The second layer was so radically different than the first it might as well have been another world. When I released Cass and Honey again, the electric type let the worry slip away from his face and gasped, and the electricity around him wavered. Lights turned off around me, and my own followed suit.

We wouldn't need lighting anymore, here.

Gone were the narrow passages and tunnels. Instead, the second floor of Mount Coronet was one huge cavern that stretched as far as the eye could see, as did glowing lakes and flowing rivers whose light stretched so far we could see the ceiling. The sound of rumbling was still present here, but it was softer and masked by the constant sound of running water and dripping liquid. The algae-covered waters shone a mix of turquoise and cerulean, and their light danced in the skies like an aurora borealis. The air was thick with moisture in a way that stuck to your throat, and it carried with it the scent of damp earth that reminded me of the Safari Zone. There was even wind here that reinforced the waves caused by the tremors, along with moss and small shrubs growing alongside the water. There were grass types here— Paras, Oddish, or Shroomish that all glowed slightly in the gloom. Part of me wondered how the hell Paras had even gotten here, given that they were an invasive species supposed to be contained to Eterna and its surroundings, but life always found a way. They were colored grey instead of the usual vibrant orange.

When we'd first fallen down the mountain due to that fissure months ago, I'd seen that the layers of the mountain were different, but to see such variation in biomes had me reconsider the variety of life I'd come to expect from this place. The upper and lower layers of the mountain were not accessible to the usual trainer, and most of what we heard of Mount Coronet was the drab, rock tunnels that stretched endlessly.

Not… this. This was beautiful.

I squinted and my face tightened before I rereleased Sunshine. It was cold, now, not enough for it to be felt through my clothes, but enough for my unprotected face to feel uncomfortable.

"It's colder than it should be," Ariel muttered. "Do you think that—"

"The mountain always has some amount of variance," Maxwell interrupted. His Honchkrow cawed at her like she was stupid. "But if it is what you think, then there isn't much we'll be able to do about it. They already planned for it."

"It's Wednesday," an ACE who was shorter than me said. "Stranger things have happened before."

Maylene and I looked at each other, then at our Pokemon, but Maxwell quickly shut us up and explained. "There's a certain Pokemon that the League keeps sealed here," he said as we began to circumvent the lake closest to us. "It's the reason the inside of the mountain is always this cold, even at low altitudes. Let's proceed with the headcount."

What followed was what had taken place every twenty minutes or so. Confirming that everyone had made it, or who had been lost to a crossing. These losses were nearly seamless and impossible to track, even for our psychics because of how fucked up Coronet was, but at least it gave me an opportunity to rest.

"We lost Nancy and Sigurd," Maxwell sighed. "We keep going."

For a while, we kept walking, guided by the same device that had gotten us to the second layer. Minutes stretched into nearly an hour, where we finally stopped and I allowed myself to rest, my breaths ragged and my lungs feeling like they were on fire. We were, admittedly, taking a break only because we'd reached a barrier preventing us from going any further.

The water itself.

Up until now, we'd gone around the massive bodies of water, but this one was impossible to cross. The walls around it were impossibly smooth and covered in moss that rows upon rows of Pyukumuku fed on, so we'd have to fly or swim through. Teleporting was not something any of us were willing to bet on without Lucian's Alakazam here to help, and he was too busy coordinating everything. It wasn't just us, climbing the mountain. It was hundreds, thousands of people in small groups that needed all the help they could get.

It did, however, signify a loss of faith in us. We had failed twice, and the League always had other prospects. We were useful, of course, but we weren't the sole group they were relying on.

"Shit…" Maxwell dropped his bag on the ground with a groan and clicked his tongue. "Arceus fucking damn it, of course it had to put us here."

Maylene's eyebrows creased, as did her Lucario's. "I don't understand," she said. "Yeah, maybe swimming is dangerous, 'cause Grace told me about all kinds of Pokemon swimming in the lake—"

"They won't attack," I interrupted. "Not now. Not when their home is crying. They stand united."

The Gym Leader blinked. "Crying… sure. Either way, it shouldn't be an issue, no?"

Maxwell ignored her, and he rummaged through his bag while the other ACEs stood in an eerie silence. It annoyed me, that even in these final hours, they weren't communicating properly.

"Guys?!" Maylene threw her hands up in frustration, hissing in a half-whisper. "A little help?!"

"We entered with fifteen ACEs," Maxwell said. "We only have eleven remaining. Things like this— crossing an enormous lake, not only is that a variance that leaves us open to being separated, it also opens us up to being attacked. Such a large group in the sky, in such a well-lit cave? And if we get attacked, we have to scatter. Not enough psychics who can fly fast enough to keep us all covered." He pulled a tiny chip out of his bag and just handed it to me. "Keep this on you. If you get lost, we might be able to find you back, but it'll be unreliable. Every movement is unreliable without you as an anchor. You'll be flying with me and Honchkrow, by the way. Might be a tight fit. Recall your Pokemon."

"Wait, what about me?" Maylene asked. "I thought the entire reason I was here was to protect her from Dusknoir."

"You won't fit. The rest of you will follow behind us as closely as you can, as I said. This is going to be a shitshow, I can already tell you."

"Fine," Maylene said. Then, she turned to me and slid my backpack off her shoulder. "Guess you're carrying your bag for the time being."

"Get ready to cross. Maylene, you're on Nini. That's Ariel's Dragonite."



Cecilia was alone.

She hadn't known how or when exactly it had happened, but her ACEs had bled away one by one until she'd been the only one left. Part of her had wished for them to go away, and mysteriously, they all did.

Gone. Just like she had willed it.

Honestly, it was a miracle they'd lasted this long with her, given that their best-case scenario was just bringing her up to the second layer— maybe the third, if they were lucky— but perhaps their proximity to her helped some. They weren't dead, the mountain had just brought them— or maybe her elsewhere, it was difficult to tell. The changes were far more irregular than they'd once been, without a pattern or timing to be found. She'd been told that would be highly likely if they kept moving instead of still, given that the mountain did not recognize them as one of its spawns and that the Lake Guardians could influence its behavior. That meant that while Team Galactic would most likely be left alone, they'd lag behind and fumble in the dark.

Not that it was very dark, at the moment. This place was alight, not thanks to crystals in the ceiling like her first tumble through Coronet, but thanks to light in the water. Fluorescent algae grew in such quantities there that the entire cavern was lit up. She found her steps having grown steadier, once she'd been alone. Moving faster, with less interference from the mountain. Slowking walked next to her, forming an invisible, solid path above the rugged part of the cave she'd reached. While he was usually a chatterbox, he was deafeningly silent, not bothering to comment on the sights of the cave or even asking if she was okay.

He knew the answer already. He held his hands behind his back and held his chin high, but also focused on keeping the path steady. Unlike their time in the Safari Zone, this one was smooth and wide enough for her to sleep on, if she wanted. Sometimes, she would point him in a direction her gut was telling her to go to. A magnetic pull that had her thinking that this was the way to the third floor. It was, however, highly unreliable and often had her switching directions at random.

They passed over a stretch of stone without any vegetation, where a Nosepass seemed stuck underfoot. It was spinning in place, its arms flinging erratically as if it didn't remember how to even move.

It might not understand where north is anymore, Slowking brushed against her mind. He must have noticed she'd been intrigued. They use magnetic fields to orient themselves, but…

"I see," she simply said. "So every Nosepass is behaving like this?"

That and their evolution, I presume.

There was a pang of sadness, but Cecilia steeled herself. This would all be over soon, one way or another.

"Let's head further up and get a good vantage point," Cecilia decided. "This place is lit up, and we should make use of it."

Very well, the psychic answered.

Her knees buckled when the platform they stood on rose high into the sky, and it took everything she had not to get on all fours and cling to the barrier. She wasn't one to fear heights, but when you stood so high on an invisible platform, instinct took over and fear gripped your mind. Her hand, which had subconsciously gone to Talonflame's Pokeball anyway, released the fire type so she could use her superior eyesight to scout. From up here, even Cecilia could see the constantly shifting mountain. Small sections, disappearing and reappearing, replaced with other sections that somehow fit. It was incredible to see it from up here.

"See if you can spot anything. Either grunts or a path to the third layer. Stand next to me, or we might be separated, as we discussed."

Cecilia still wasn't sure if the mountain considered her and the other shards as fully one of theirs, especially since hers was a split gift, or if she'd just gotten particularly lucky, and either way, Talonflame wasn't one, so who knew if she'd be allowed to travel freely.

Talonflame nodded, though she seemed irritated at the fact that Cecilia felt the need to instruct her as such, as if she knew already.

"I'm just taking precautions, darling. Go ahead."

It did not take long for her to spot something.

People from Team Galactic.

Cecilia had her observe for a good while, and their area of the cavern never seemed to shift places. The zones around them were plenty. Sometimes, for example, they were obscured by a massive wall or pillars of stone, or a lake appeared before them, or a fault, but the ground they were standing on was solid no matter how long they waited. She was eager to see if there was an admin among the group, but she knew better than to rush in unprepared.

She stayed high up in the sky, traveling high up to stay hidden from view. A competent psychic— no, that was doing Slowking a disservice, now. He was among the top percentile of psychic types, these days, only below the strongest of trainers like Gym Leaders or Conference goers— but an elite, or otherwise specialized psychic might be able to camouflage by shifting the air around itself.

Right now, though, they could only hope none of the grunts had any Pokemon with vision as excellent as Talonflame, or that they would look up extensively. Slowking took a route that was not as well-lit until an occasion showed itself. Another wall, this time smaller (that didn't mean much in the context of Mount Coronet, since it was still tall enough to dwarf the tallest of skyscrapers in Jubilife), appeared in front of the grunts, allowing her a direct route toward the group.

When it disappeared, she was right above them.

They were one, two, five, ten grunts holding a choke point, their voices masked by the sound of a massive waterfall giving off green light and feeding the lake below with countless algae. In normal circumstances, small water and bug types would feed on the plants, keeping them from growing in quantities too large, and predators would then feed on those Pokemon. She had seen, for example, how most Pokemon avoided eating Pyukumuku at all costs due to how they kept the waters pure.

It was a fascinating ecosystem.

She returned her focus to the grunts. Cecilia supposed 'choke point' was a rather useless denomination, with how fast everything inside the mountain was moving. Their uniforms were unmistakeable, the emptiness in their eyes still true. Still high above ground, Cecilia gestured to Slowking, and his path turned into a bubble holding both her and himself in the air, tightly encased to shield herself from attacks.

Then, she fell upon them like a hammer.

Her Pokemon hissed out of their balls one by one.

First, Golurk to terrify and stun them. The automaton was a mass of eerie clay that dwarfed all they had at their disposal. He roared to life with a song that rippled through the cave-like death and misery, and she only caught the first note before Slowking cut them off from the outside world. This was not Lehmhart's full potential, not yet, because then the song would break through Slowking's barrier and get her killed. Already, spirits were hounding at the gates and trying to break through. The stone below the grunts and their Pokemon turned to scorching mud. Houndoom, Machoke, Ursaring, Purugly and more fell into the sands, sinking into it like it was water, but a Nidoqueen slammed a fist under her and the sands stopped shifting. The song, though, the song kept hammering at them. Two grunts had already dropped to the ground, convulsing and foaming at the mouth while the rest weren't in any state to organize.

And so, it fell onto their Pokemon, but they were weak.

Second, Hydreigon and Talonflame to conquer them. The beast's three heads roared as one, and pure power struck at the grunts. Dark Pulse to smash through a hasty barrier erected by a Bronzong, then Dragon Pulse and Flamethrower to cook them alive. Talonflame flapped her wings once, twice, thrice, and a massive gust of fiery wind formed around the grunts and slowly but surely squeezed the life out of them. The shifting mound underfoot turned to glass in a one-hundred-foot radius. The song affected them as well, but they had long trained under its heavy strain.

Then, it ended.

Almost all of them were down, yet they retaliated. Flamethrowers burned the barrier at its edges, stones fell from the sky, sharpened and quick enough to be unseen to the naked eye. A cage of lightning from a Luxray constricted around Slowking's impenetrable bubble before a punch from Lehmhart crushed it to a bloodied pulp.

None broke through.

Third, Toxicroak and Scizor to clean them up. Oh, all of the trainers were surely dead, by now, but Pokemon were more resilient than that. Cecilia could barely keep up with the speed of her own Pokemon, but she could see the shape of the fight. She could see how they fell before her might, and how none of them, covered by burns, stabbed by shards of glass, and still recovering from a song borne of death, could stand up to her. Toxicroak coated her claw in venom potent enough to melt through steel. A single scrape from her was enough to bring the weakened Pokemon down. Scizor's hands snapped around the necks of Pokemon barely conscious, finishing them off with a quick Flash Cannon.

Cecilia just watched from far above.

She watched the death, the screams, the cries for help, and her face never changed. She couldn't even hear them, with how Slowking was filtering sound away from their bubble. It was a very impersonal way to kill. There was no satisfaction to it, but the fact that they would never threaten who she loved again meant that there was a certain peace of mind to it, at the very least.

Good, she simply thought. Though these must be the weakest they have, given they were left in the second floor. Competent enough to stand against a League Trainer, but not against an ACE, let alone me.

The plan was, then, to obviously never even have to confront the ACEs, which is why their stalling tactics were working so well.

Slowking led her down to the destruction she'd wrought, and Lehmhart gently placed her on the ground as if she was made of porcelain. Pokemon and grunts were burned to a crisp or blown apart, and the smell was… far too familiar for comfort. It was the smell of cooked meat.

She wrinkled her nose. "Maybe we went a little too ham."

Scizor snorted, a metallic, reverberating trill that she loved. Talonflame landed next to her, her feathers warm even against her suit, and she cawed at Scizor in that condescending, 'I know everything' tone.

"That was impressive, Cece."

From behind a rock crawled Maeve, accompanied only by her Infernape and Starmie.

Cecilia hummed. "So you made it up here."

Maeve lifted up a circular device— a lidar, they had called it. "Yes. I stole it. You have a survivor, by the way." She pointed to her left with a thumb.

"Keep your wits about you," she warned Slowking. "But yes, we want a survivor… ah."

Almost as if on cue, she noticed a grunt writhe against the ground. A man… no, just a particular tall and burly woman with short, dark hair had survived her onslaught, with a Wobbuffet barely standing beside her. The psychic type swayed from side to side like a leaf in the wind, barely conscious and its body singed at the edges. The woman's skin was marked by the cruel touch of fire. Burned flesh etched in hues of crimson, purple and black, in the worst spots like her arms and stomach, which she could see through a massive tear in her uniform. It was a wonder she was still moving.

Wobbuffet warbled angrily at Cecilia, as if to threaten her. She felt a mental assault coming, but Slowking had shielded her mind before she'd even stepped foot in Coronet, and the attack simply bounced off like a child had thrown a pebble against a wall of steel.

Scizor's eye twitched at the affront, and he was faster than Zolst to retaliate. Before Cecilia could even react to the attempted attack, he raised a claw and blasted Wobbuffet with a green energy beam that bore with it the deafening pain of a thousand moments, a thousand ideas, a thousand projects all at once. It was perfect, to break a psychic's mind, and even Slowking struggled to stand next to the attack. The sheer scale of what bugs brought to the table would overwhelm the largest of predators, and so the half-dead Wobbuffet stood no chance. It slumped over, unconscious, and before Hydreigon could tear into its flesh with three Crunches at once, Cecilia whistled.

He stopped immediately.

"You," Cecilia called out. She walked a few paces until she was close enough to look the woman in the eyes. She did not crawl away further than she already had, though her breathing quickened. She sat against a wall of smooth, pale stone. "Are you well enough to speak?"

Maeve observed the entire situation with a curious, and somewhat amused eye.

"If you're going to kill me, do it," she spat, though the sound of the waterfall and tremors obscured her yelling. "I won't ever speak! I'll be rewarded for my service in the new world!"

Talonflame looked at Slowking, then at Cecilia, like she was listening to a crazy person speak, and to her credit, she was.

Cecilia internally sighed. "Let's not be hasty, now. What's your name?"

"We won't be the only ones. Even if you kill all of us, you stand no chance. This is your last day, puppet."

"You were in quite the large group, which means that the mountain recognizes you." Cecilia paced in front of her with her hands behind her back, her steps almost a little too even. "While I seem to be able to walk about without being snagged away, I could use a little bit of help getting to the third layer—"

"Never."

"—and since you were all here, I assume it's rather close. If you do, I will personally make sure you survive the coming day and go to prison instead of being executed by the state," she lied.

Cecilia waited, looming over her like a hawk, though she already knew the answer. The Galactic member spat a bloody glob of phlegm and saliva on her boot.

That would have been too easy.

"But you do know how to get there, correct?" Cecilia asked.

The woman smirked in a way that told her the answer was yes.

Well, then.

Her legs weren't that burned, and she didn't look like she was going to die any time soon. Better press the trigger now and get there then hold onto it forever and die because of it, and odds were, she was going to be in here for more than twenty-four hours regardless.

"Be a doll and help us reach the summit to the best of your ability, will you?"



It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Denzel had pictured getting into the mountain, roaming its caverns to hunt Team Galactic and fight them to help as much as possible, but instead, all he'd gotten was the awful roar of a dying mountain, alone. Unlike the shards, Denzel, Pauline and Emilia weren't privy to their own bodyguards, which was fine, but since being in a group would get Coronet's attention, it meant that the most efficient way of traveling within its bowels was in tiny groups, or on his own like he currently was.

No, he shook his head. Not alone, never alone. Froslass hung by his side, her eyes glowing in the dark, and Sylveon flanked him with his ribbons wrapped around his wrist so that his entire forearm was covered. He doesn't want to lose me, he internally said, but I'm not sure contact would even matter. Denzel didn't get a super special suit and many supplies, but he'd been given enough to travel here. A flashlight, along with another light on his helmet, and a thick winter coat that bore the League's insignia. Had he been in a better mood, pride no doubt would have swelled within him. Denzel had never wanted to become a soldier, but he did grow up admiring the League, and most importantly, he wanted to help his friends more than anything.

Yet he had not come across a single member of Team Galactic yet. Maybe it was foolish, but Denzel thought he'd be fighting the moment he stepped foot in the mountain, yet Team Galactic only had a few hundred people left. It made sense, that they just wouldn't throw them like fodder on the first floor.

It was still underwhelming, though. Justin…

Fuck. He blinked away the tears, or tried to, but they started falling anyway. Again.

Sylveon's grip tightened when he felt Denzel's anguish, and Froslass allowed him to grow a little warmer until he told her not to push herself. They'd taken inspiration from Cynthia's Glaceon, but she could snatch away the cold, now, leaving only heat. She wasn't great at it yet, though, and so he would rather shiver and be uncomfortable than spend her precious energy. He sniffled, wiping his eyes and nose with his sleeve, but it was not until ten minutes later that he stopped amidst a widened corridor and released his Lopunny.

Every fifteen minutes, he would go through this. Stop at a spot, release Lopunny, and see if she could hear anything. It was the only way he had, to properly navigate this place. Arceus forbid the mountain had been this agitated when they'd rescued Cecilia, because they never would have reached her. The normal type stood on her tiptoes, and her ears sprung up.

"So?" Denzel tapped a foot in anticipation. "Anything?"

Lopunny groaned in annoyance, and he took it as a sign to shut up. It was in times like these, when it was just him and his thoughts, that the scar on his back began to throb and ache.

Another few seconds and her eyes widened.

She had something.

How incredible was it, that she could filter through the mountain's quakes and the countless Pokemon panicking? Froslass praised her with a grin while Sylveon affectionately patted her on the back with a ribbon. A few months ago, she would have gone crazy for it, but they had grown past it, now.

"Sylvi, I'm recalling you," Denzel said. The fairy type's hold tightened and he let his frustration show, but he didn't channel any of it into him through his ribbons, nor did he protest. He knew that moving around too much with more than three people would risk them being separated. "Thank you for understanding."

Sylveon disappeared in a flash of crimson, and Denzel started running.

He was not in as good of a shape as Chase was, and the load of the equipment and supplies he carried in his usual backpack was heavier than usual, but he pushed himself to run as fast as he could so Lopunny would be able to track the sound of whoever's voice this was— it was apparently difficult to tell. The ground here was rugged and uneven, and it was difficult to run, especially when he only had two beams of light to reveal the way forward. He nearly bit off his tongue when his right foot hit the ground lower than expected, and pain shot up his ankle, yet he kept running.

And it was all worth it.

Because at the base of an incline steep enough to be a 120-degree angle up, he found a friend.

It was Chase, his Lucario and Abomasnow.

"Holy shit— holy shit! Chase!" Denzel carefully stepped through the cave, its path slightly inclined to the right. Sometimes, he felt as if the tunnels themselves were spinning slowly. "Did you lose your ACEs?"

Chase offered his arm, and Denzel clasped it tight. "We made the decision pretty early that being in such a large group wasn't going to cut it, even for the first floor, because we wanted to prioritize speed over all else," he explained slowly. Part of Denzel wanted to recall one of his Pokemon, but they were safe since they were unmoving. "I was with Nevaeh and Nakai— you don't know them— but we got separated going up." He nudged his chin up at the incline. "That's where the mountain is at its most unstable. Now I was waiting to see if she got back here or not, but I was wondering if I should go up anyway. It could give them a better chance of finding me, I dunno."

Denzel squinted up at the incline and saw nothing but sharpness and darkness. A maw wanting to swallow the unsuspecting traveler whole and to keep them trapped here forever.

He had studied Coronet, back when they'd first reached Eterna City (which felt like an eternity ago) but the information available online was restrained to the first. When they'd made it back to Snowpoint, he had looked up to see if he could find any information on those caverns full of crystals, but he'd found nothing.

This place. It was designed to keep you away from Spear Pillar, and no one would ever come to save you past the first floor.

"Nevaeh has a Gallade, and Nakai has that tracker thing, so they have all the tools, but it might take too long. She told me not to wait, if the time came. That she believed in me." There was a slight smile on his face, gone as fast as it appeared. "Haven't done a damn thing to deserve that faith, but I'll take it."

Denzel's eyes widened, and his feet remained planted firmly against the stone. For an ACE to talk like this? He'd never heard of anything like it or thought it was even possible. To him, ACEs were trainers who had killed everything that made them them, so they could be a machine of the state with few feelings. It was cruel and something he opposed now that he'd actually seen how they worked.

"They were never trained for this… bodyguard type of work, you know? They're the tip of the spear, if you want to use Grace-like analogies, and they had to adapt on the fly this entire year. Anyway, any news on Emi and Pauline? I kind of hoped I'd see them with you."

Denzel sighed, and Lopunny patted his back with an ear. "We barely made it ten minutes together, you know how it is." He tried not to pay attention to the pit in his stomach. This was the first floor. They were fine, and they'd trained for this anyway. "So, what's next?"

Chase grinned. "Well, Williams, why don't you come and hang out with me for a bit. I have it on good authority that the best place to be to actually get anywhere is around a shard, and I was given this shitty ass job."

"Won't we get separated while crossing up?" Denzel worryingly asked.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Are you going to be lame about it, or are you going to help us save the Arceus damned world?"

Denzel clenched and unclenched a fist, doubt having evaporated from his bones and psyche. This almost felt invigorating, to want to have Chase's back. He clapped his friend on the shoulder and returned his smile.

"Let's do it."

Chase snorted. "Well, let's climb this fucking hill, then."



Mira had tried to keep all of her ACEs together, she really had, but they'd started disappearing one by one the moment they'd stepped foot inside Coronet, yet Carlos still remained with her. Part of her theorized it was because they'd bonded the most and she didn't care for the others, but there was no way to confirm or deny that. As a precautionary measure, all of her Pokemon were in their balls, even her Porygon 2, while Carlos only had his Mismagius out. As a massive group, they'd gone around in circles, never finding the way up despite using lidars, but now that they were on their own?

It only took another thirty minutes for them to get to one of the tunnels leading to the second layer. She thought of it like a filter of some kind, meant to sift through large groups so their deaths would be more likely or they abandoned their goal of reaching Spear Pillar.

Emilia and Pauline were standing there, huddled together as close as they could get out of fear of being separated. The only Pokemon they had with them was Metang. Talk about efficiency, Mira thought to herself as relief flooded her veins.

"Emi! Pauline!" Mira wanted to wrap them both into a hug, and that surprised her. It felt like a lifetime since she'd last seen them despite that it hadn't even been a day. Coronet had a way of making you feel so oppressed, and it was worse now that it was literally throwing a tantrum. "I can't believe— how did you two find the way to the second floor?"

She didn't bother asking where Denzel was. It was obvious they'd been split up—

Mira was surprised to have Pauline hug her, out of all people. They… well, they didn't dislike each other, but there had been so much tension about keeping information away from them that she just hadn't expected this much affection. She allowed herself to sink into the hug for a moment, but then it was time to get to business.

"We got separated pretty early," Emilia explained as she recalled her Metang. Since they weren't moving, they were rather safe, but better take precautions than be caught off-guard. "I don't know how, one second he was behind us, and the next, he was alone."

"We managed to get one of those trackers that tell you where the closest 'staircase' is from a League Trainer we met on the way." Pauline lifted her hand and showed the circular device. Its screen was dim, compared to all the flashlights. "I got no idea how it works."

"It's a custom-made lidar. It has a constant 3D mapping function and measures the subtle changes in pressure close to the inclines," Mira explained. "Notice how your ears hurt a little bit?"

"Right. Like I'm on an airplane," Emilia said.

"These tunnels induce a rapid change in pressure," Mira said. "It stabilizes when you get to the other side, though."

Pauline crossed her arms. "Maybe they should have said that in the debrief."

"You don't have to know how it works, just that it does," Carlos gruffed. "How many Pokemon did you have out when you got separated?"

"Just my Metang, his Froslass and Pauline's Vigoroth," Emilia said with a wince. "As you can see, we're traveling lighter, now."

"We underestimated how bad things would get," Pauline muttered through clenched teeth. She was clearly angry at herself, frustrated for having fucked up. "But whatever, what's done is done. Should we…" she looked up at the steep incline. "Should we try?"

"I don't see why not. If we go one by one, we won't find each other again either way," Carlos said. "Get your Metang back out. It and Mismagius will keep us protected. Let's head up."

And so, they did. A few rocks fell on top of them, shattering atop the small, yet focused barrier, but the worst of it was the horrible headache Mira was suffering through. She shirked the pain away to another her and felt herself relax, for a moment, but the climb seemed endless. She had no idea if they were moving in place, or if Coronet was screwing them them. Every few seconds, she would look around and breathe a sigh of relief at the fact that everyone was still there. Part of her wondered if the passing of time was consistent within the mountain, even if it'd be slower than out of it, but before she could think too hard about that, they reached paradise.

It really was, compared to the first layer. There was vegetation, running water and actual light. Her good hand slid to the side of her helmet, and she turned off her headlight while she took in the sight of everything. They were right next to an enormous river that snaked across the cavern, and a group of Seedot hung atop a small tree at its side, shivering in fear with their eyes closed.

Thankfully, they'd all made it as a group, so Carlos' protection would last a while longer yet.

But Legendaries, was it cold. Her face was numb, and she almost considered putting on her breathing mask already, just so the cold air wouldn't brush against it, and without Charizard or Braixen, they had no way of warming up. Still, Mira would take the cold over the dark every day of the week—

"Wait!" Carlos held out a hand before they could even start moving. "Look."

There was a body, washed up at the shore of the river, surrounded by six grunts they could see. Carlos released a female Jellicent and ordered her to check the water, which she did with a single look. The body itself wasn't too badly mangled. It was pale, and its arm was bent the wrong way, but it looked like he'd either been killed by internal trauma of some kind of a ghostly attack.

Maybe Dusknoir…

"It's clear," Carlos sighed. He approached the dead body and hummed, turning it over like it was… a thing, rather than a dead human, and the fact that Mira could only see the burned half of his face while he did so didn't help. "That's one of Chase's," he continued. "He's got a heart carved on his forehead."

Pauline exhaled. "Shit."

"Nakai wouldn't have died to some shitty grunts," Carlos said. "This," he tapped on the man's forehead, "this is something Mars would do."

"That means she might be on this floor." Mira's foot bounced against the soft moss. "They're committing early."

Carlos continued rummaging through his deceased comrade's body and stole some Full Restores along with some other supplies, but it was their lidar that caught his attention.

"There's a signal jumping around some," Carlos said. "Not as much as you'd expect, though."

Emilia allowed herself to smile, and she no doubt felt a flicker of hope. "Do you think Chase has his tracker—"

"It's possibly a trap," Carlos interrupted. Still, he dropped the device in Mira's hands and turned toward the dead body. "We should continue as is. Chase could be dead and his tracker could be taken, or he could be bait, too. Don't bite."

Mira frowned. "If he's bait, then—"

"Listen to me," Carlos hissed. He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed. "You're going to get yourself killed—"

"I don't care! There's no point in all of this if we don't try to fucking help each other, Carlos. If you can't understand that, then you can fuck off—"

Then.

He disappeared. One second he was there, and the next he was not, like a psychic had kidnapped him with Teleport.

"No… no, no, no, no!" she shrieked. "I can't get anything right! Bring him back, you fucking mountain!"

Someone squeezed her shoulder, and she shoved her anguish to her other self again. The backlash when she'd unite again would be immense, but she couldn't afford to let emotions rule her now. Her back straightened, and she allowed herself a few calm breaths.

"It's not your fault," Emi said. "And he's still alive, just alone."

Mira shook her head. "It is my fault, but that's okay. There's a silver lining to all of this."

The way she'd instantly recovered must have looked strange, because both Pauline and Emi frowned at her.

"We're going to follow that tracker," Emi guessed. "I agree."

"So do I," Pauline said. "Let's get a move on."



The crossing went wrong for us almost immediately.

Contrary to expectations, it was not because of Team Galactic hitting us while we were vulnerable. The plan had been to fly low enough not to be seen, but high enough not to be jumped by a water type despite my assurances that none of them would attack. They were, as it stood, done listening to me, and planning according to their own doctrine: Pokemon in Mount Coronet were aggressive due to their low human contact, and therefore every precaution had to be taken not to be attacked.

No.

The problem had come when a Gyarados reared her head out of the water.

Maxwell instantly barked out an order for his ACEs to scatter, but more importantly, he ordered them to attack.

ACEs were creatures of war. They were born to fight, fight, and fight without rest. Diplomacy had been hardwired out of their minds from early on in their training, and they solved all of their problems by disabling or killing foes.

They were the tip of the spear. A group who did not believe that the pen could be mightier than the sword.

I'd seen the pain in Gyarados' eye, the lack of agency within her, the way her face twisted in something that looked like rage, but was actually loss. The fact that she had grown so large meant that she would never be able to escape this place no matter how much Coronet cried and asked her to leave, if she wanted to live. My words and warnings fell on deaf ears. They had to, when I'd gotten ACEs in so much trouble and shown them so much death this past year. Chase's ACEs trusted him, Mira had Carlos, who was friendly with her, and Cecilia did not have any kind of relationship with hers, which was actually better than what I had.

What did I have?

Maxwell did not resent me for getting his Liepard and Lou killed, or losing his hand, for that would go against all his job had trained him to be, but he did not trust my decision-making either. They had spent the last few hours stuck in a cold, damp mountain whose cries did nothing but herald the end of everything they had ever known, and they had been forced to put all of their faith into a group of teenagers who knew nothing of the world.

And so,

Attacks crashed into Gyarados' hide, and the already frightened serpent retaliated.

And countless water types from deep below her lake attacked as one, combining their efforts into countless beams of super pressurized water that foamed at its edges. It wasn't enough, of course it wasn't enough, but it did catch all of the ACEs off-guard, and that meant that everything had gone to shit. Gyarados fell, as did many others, but it didn't matter. We had struck at Coronet's children. We had become the aggressors, and we had no Lake Guardians on our side to smooth things over. For that, we would be punished.

I didn't remember how exactly I fell to the sea below, only the collapse of stone like rain and lit like stars, and then me impacting the water at such high speed made me feel like I'd been run over by a car, but at least that snapped me back awake. The water here was so cold that I felt the temperature spread through my waterproof clothes despite the fact that I wasn't getting wet. My hands moved around my waist, desperate to find Buddy's Pokeball while I sank due to the heavy load of this uniform and the bag, but moving in this was cumbersome. It was slow, uncomfortable and most of all, I was already tired from having walked for so long.

But I found it. Second one from the left, slightly chipped right above the release button from when I fell down Coronet the first time.

I could not see very well in the algae-covered water, but the light of his eyes was unmistakable. His head swelled and he propelled himself up until his head touched my back, and eventually—

Air filled my lungs once more.

I shivered on top of Buddy's head. Every breath I exhaled was visible in front of me, and my face, my fingers and feet felt numb. The flashing lights, the coughing out of water, the cold, the throbbing pain in my bones, it all combined into a nausea-inducing cocktail of confusion and discomfort. Jellicent managed to reach the shore without any incidents, shielding me from the waves, and I crawled onto the moss, coughing out the last water that had gone into my lungs.

"Shit…" my body shook, and I hugged myself. "This is— this is fucking terrible. I'm like a— magnet for bad— luck."

Jellicent's body rippled in panic, and his tentacle extended, turning to ice. He pressed on Sunshine's Pokeball, and the dragon instantly asked about what the hell had happened while he warmed me up.

"They attacked a wild Pokemon, and like over a hundred of them attacked back." My voice was quivering, still, but a little less. "I'd never seen anything like it— even Bella's fief is nowhere this united." My gloves slipped off my hands, and then my boots. Water had slipped into both. I rubbed my hands together next to Sunshine's shell. "They're united in grief. We're alone, now, I think, which doesn't bode very well."

Buddy anxiously whistled, asking about what we should do, and Sunshine eyed him in surprise. He was usually the one with the plan, who kept us level-headed, but seeing me almost drown had wrecked his nerves.

"First, I dry myself. Then…" I considered my next words carefully. Maxwell had told me that they might be able to find me, but that was a very uncertain might. I knew their presence next to me made things easier. I could feel the mountain, and how it thought I belonged. How it wanted to push me ever upward until I reached the seat of His power. "I think we might be better off looking for a way up, and if we come across someone, then we help them."

Turtonator relaxed at that, though a smidge of unpleasantness passed in Buddy's eyes.

"Not like we can do anything differently anyway," I said. "The ACEs attacked wild Pokemon here because they're trained to be so damn trigger-happy." I let a bit of anger slip in that sentence, which I rescinded soon after. We both shared the blame for what had happened. "This place, it's alive. It's an actual living being that breathes and feels. The caverns and tunnels are its blood vessels and the people who inhabit them are its blood cells. Right now, you could say that anyone who isn't in Team Galactic or us is being considered a virus and it's trying to kick them out."

My fists clenched together, and I touched my face. My sense of touch was slowly coming back, and I could finally move my fingered properly. My hands rummaged through my bag, and I sighed in relief when I saw that water had not gotten in, thank the Legendaries, and Sunshine asked why in the world Coronet would be trying to kick out the ones trying to save it.

"Because it doesn't understand. It functions like… like the Guardians, I think, so it's been tricked. Plus, attacking the wildlife isn't fucking helping," I spat. "Whatever. Standing around is a waste of time. Let me put on my boots back on…"

They were still cold and wet, but I figured that it would be manageable. The gloves, I could keep drying while on the move so long as I kept them next to Turtonator, and he was quite willing to stay out of his Pokeball. I didn't want to risk traveling with too many at once, just in case Coronet tried to strike back at me for being a part of the group that attacked its children, so I decided to travel light. Jellicent, Turtonator and Claydol would do for now, the last of which I released immediately. They did the usual, routine check of asking about everything they could to see if I was injured, but other than feeling winded, cold, and my body aching, I was fine. Still, they grabbed my bag anyway despite the fact that it made me feel so useless.

They wouldn't take no for an answer.

My feet shifted in my shoes, and I nearly slipped on the moss covering the ground. This area in general was far more overgrown than the rest, its vibrant green hues interspersed with delicate tendrils of ivy that snaked their way across the rocky terrain. The ground yielding beneath my feet wasn't what I expected. It was like walking on a pillow, and the shaking didn't help.

"Let's go."

I was so close to Sunshine that I could feel the heat sliding off his scales and down his body. Cass was to my right with my bag suspended in the air, and they were ready to put a barrier around me at a moment's notice. Buddy, meanwhile, had sneaked a part of himself in the water to stand guard, but otherwise was a ways up. I'd told him it was unnecessary to expect more attacks from wild Pokemon, but he too, would not take no for an answer, and so we set off in no particular direction. I wanted to circumvent the lake to see if anyone had, by chance, washed up to shore like I had. Using my empathy to navigate had been an idea, but an awful one. This was like what I'd felt in the library, but even worse—

I bit the inside of my lip until it bled. Visions of a corpse turned to ashes flashed across my mind, its hands coiled in on themselves like a dying bug. I gripped at my heart, which hurt, hurt, hurt until I felt Sunshine's warm arm on my shoulder, Jellicent's cold whispers against my neck and ears, and Cass' attempt to cheer me up with a small hymn.

All of them tried, they really did, but they could only assuage the imbalance and the pain.

Cecilia will make things right. She will.

"Is it weird that I feel more comfortable alone?" I asked after a few minutes. "I don't want to sound ungrateful, but there was stress weighing me down when I was with everyone else."

Turtonator shrugged, saying that we were better off on our own even in these circumstances.

Actually, our odds of survival have gone down drastically, Cass deadpanned. I'm still running the calculations, but

The fire type grunted that he wasn't going to listen anyway, but Buddy whispered that he was quite interested in that number.

"I don't know, it's like— something about it being right this way," I muttered. We passed by a colony of Binacle, all growing on one enormous moss-covered boulder twenty feet tall next to the water. They all retreated into the rock as soon as we got close. "We don't mean any harm!" I yelled. "Sorry, and good luck!" There were goosebumps across my skin as a frigid wind swept through the cavern, breaking through Sunshine's heat. "Anyway, I'm not going to pretend like we can solve this any better than the ACEs could, but it's not like Coronet wasn't giving us a hard time advancing."

Sunshine nodded, admitting that they were quite good at killing.

"They are, but it won't matter if they can't reach the targets they need to." Cass lifted me up a small cliffside taller than I was, and I had to recall and release Sunshine up there as well. "As I was saying, even if they were on perfect behavior, I doubt that they'd even be allowed at the summit."

Jellicent's eyes dimmed, and he asked about Cynthia.

"I don't know, she could be anywhere," I answered. "But she is Champion for a reason, and she's been to this place more than anyone else."

Had she been to Spear Pillar before? If not her, then who? Sure, it might have been when the world wasn't literally ending, and Coronet had been more manageable, but maybe she had made it up many layers already. It was difficult to imagine so many people— thousands trying to ascend this mountain for a single goal. Gym Leaders, Elite Four Members, Team Galactic, League Trainers, us… it was like a story displaying before my eyes. The world runs on stories, Bellatrix had told me, once, and I'd always believed her, but I had never truly felt it until now.

It was not for another twenty minutes, that we found something interesting.

It was not the path to the third layer, nor was it a group of Galactic grunts, an ACE Trainer or even Maylene— and to be honest, I was surprised at how much I worried for her, given that we weren't even friends or close at all. That would be impossible until I fully paid for what I'd done to her, and I wasn't even close to done. In fact, she was the one paying again.

But no.

It was something else entirely.

It began with a warning from Cass, and then the scent of rotting vegetation. A suffocating blanket that seemed to smother the very life from the air.

And then I saw her, or what remained of her, emerging from behind a wall covered in dying plants. A massive Parasect. Her usual vibrant colors had faded to a sickly gray, its carapace cracked and weathered with age. Fungi sprouted from her decaying flesh, their twisted tendrils writhing like a grotesque crown upon her head. It was then, that I realized I had not been walking on moss for the past… minute or so, but fungus. Moving, living fungus that had infected this same Paras and sapped her of her life upon her evolution. A barrier I hadn't realized was already there gleamed in front of me as Cass' eyes shone with an even brighter pink, Sunshine stepped in between us with blue flames building up within his snout, and Buddy's shades were already beginning to emerge, forcing their way through the tiny cracks of the world with a keen.

"Wait!" I yelled.

I was not about to repeat the same mistake my ACEs had.

The Parasect's eyes gleamed with a dull, vacant light, devoid of emotion or intelligence, yet I knew that to be untrue. Despite the fungus having progressed so far that it was visible within the bug type's eyes, the organism as a whole was a conscious thing and far more intelligent than I'd ever given Parasect credit for before this very moment. The way their puppet's claws retracted and repeatedly snapped, or her mushroom, which looked more like a hardened carapace, swelled to twice its size with no doubt more fungus, ready to explode at a moment's notice…

There was caution behind Parasect's movements. Caution and fear, but like everyone else, she was not attacking us.

And there was power behind her. The power of a story that had not quite reached the ones domain-holders like Bella had, but similar to Carnivine, or stronger. In a straight fight, we might win, but the terrain was to her advantage, so we would be bloodied and there was just no point to it, especially since there was an army of Paras lurking in the shadows behind her and she clearly needed help with something.

She would not have sought us out otherwise.

The fact that Cass wasn't warning me about those Paras meant that something was screwing with their senses, too. They'd been telling me about anything that got too close on our way here.

My head dipped and my eyes closed in respect, though half of it was faked. It was hard to reconcile with the prejudices I'd held against Parasect as a species. The original Paras was dead, yes, but what remained was far more complex than I'd ever realized. A hive mind of some sort, but it wasn't just Parasect. It was that, and more. Everything we were standing on, that which covered the walls and crawled up to the ceiling, writhing as one collective.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Parasect slightly less wary. I had no idea if she…

No, not she anymore. She was dead.

I had no idea if they knew human body language, since they lived somewhere it was possible to go their entire lives without ever meeting one. Still, it appeared to work at least little bit.

"Well met, Parasect," I said, a hand over my chest. "Me and my family apologize if we've disturbed you in any manner, and we mean you no harm."

Sunshine snorted at that, but I hit him in the arm and he shut up.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but would I be wrong in thinking that you need something?"

First, a silence nearly impossible to judge, even when I'd been given the gift of empathy. Parasect worked on a fundamentally different wavelength than other Pokemon. They were closer to Mimi than the others. Empty eyes observed me, and fungus undulated like snakes, some brushing against the barrier Cass had erected.

"Please refrain from doing that, it is very frightening," the psychic complained.

Still, there was nothing, but after a minute, a thousand voices and one answered me.

Welcome, being of a single mind, and to your offspring as well, except for the one emanating, the scent of ash and sulfur. Their pincers snapped in irritation while Turtonator rolled his eyes, but I was too busy being astonished at the fact that a bug type was talking to me through telepathy. We are Brood-Mother, the progenitor of all Paras dwelling within this cavern's depths.

No. It wasn't telepathy, but something else entirely that I didn't understand. I'd witnessed how bug types could affect the mind, if they were powerful enough. How Wormadam's Bug Buzz had overwhelmed me with a deep uncomfortableness that threatened to overwhelm with its sheer scale. Telepathy was far more impersonal than this. It was the whisper of a thousand voices, each speaking in a different intonation or rhythm, the idea that a whole could emerge from a million different tiny pieces that were nothing on their own.

My brain felt like it had just been observed by countless eyes, for there was no privacy to a bug. Only the whole.

How uncomfortable.

"All of them?" I asked. "Does that mean you were the first?"

Parasect opened their puppet's mouth, and countless tendrils wormed out of her mouth. We recall it vividly, akin to the flickering lights above, when we ascended here as a mere child, on the day our trainer met his end. At the outset, we numbered three, yet I alone endured. This habitat proved, hospitable to our kind.

Yes, I could see how that would happen. This place was damp, had plenty of vegetation to feed on, and had plenty of spaces for a Paras to crawl into and hide…

Wait.

They had come here as a Paras, meaning that even back then, when their puppet had been able to act with a modicum of independence, the fungus had considered their trainer to be… well, their trainer. It was an odd thought, which had me wonder about how exactly it was, that one would go about raising a Paras, especially when knowing that side of them would be lost.

And their and the Paras' faded colors were probably a way they'd adapted to this new environment through the generations. Not as large of a change as a different form, but enough to camouflage themselves and have better luck against predators here. Unlike the vibrant orange they donned in forests, signaling that they were dangerous to eat, Pokemon in Mount Coronet like rock and steel types had far sturdier stomachs than what Paras as a species were used to.

"I see. I understand you a little bit more, now. Not fully, but more."

The fungus writhed as one, reminding me of Angel's vines. As evident to your eyes, as it is to our senses, our beloved Coronet is withering away. Dying.

"I came here to prevent that." My eyes glanced at the pale fungus to see if I could discern any pattern in its movements, but doing that on the fly was difficult. "I need to reach the summit, or stop Team Galactic from reaching it. Team Galactic are those people in those…" I gestured at myself. "Skintight uniforms."

Ah, those with lifeless gazes, colder than even our gracious host's, yes, we are acquainted with them. Parasect slid toward me, their legs carried by the fungus instead of having to even walk. To my relief, my Pokemon didn't react. We have encountered a handful, though our fair home screams at us to let them through, so we do. You claim the ability to halt Coronet's demise?

I nodded. "I have a part in it, like everyone else. And it's not just Coronet which is at risk, but the world itself."

If Parasect could laugh in contempt, they likely would have, with the sardonic tone they took. What is our sacred Coronet, if not the world itself?

"It's a… throne."

From the pillar, His radiance outshines all, or so the tales recount, Parasect said. None of us, have ever been, but there are stories.

They were not the most widespread, nor did they resonate worldwide, but they certainly were the oldest, and that carried weight.

I looked to my Pokemon, who looked to have no objections to what was going to follow. Finding any other way up would be a foolish endeavor when we had the answer right in front of us.

I moistened my lips. "I have a pact to offer you."

You wish to reach the summit, the bug type swarmed my mind. We might be able to help you, though I will ask for help in return. It is always a matter, of exchange, with you fae, so we would be foolish not to, at least inquire.

"I'll have to see what it is first, but I'm inclined to accept."

Then, follow. Parasect rotated, as if they were being carried by spores, and then they slid across the cave further in. There were still no Paras in sight, even though I could hear them. Bugs were capable of putting the collective before the individual. It will not, be far.

I was reminded of those Beedrill in Eterna Forest, who had nearly killed one of their own to protect their own hive because they'd been scared of me. Those Paras lurking in the shadows of the gloom were no doubt ready to throw themselves into Sunshine's flames just to buy their Brood-Mother another hour, minute, or second, even. It was a well-laid trap, and they were far more calm and collected than the rest of the Pokemon here. Maybe it was because they had a leader with a good head on their metaphorical shoulders.

So. What shall I name you, young creature of the fae? You and your companions, of course, Parasect asked. Unless you wish, for me to pay for that, too.

Brood-Mother seemed well acquainted with the old ways, which was strange. Maybe there was an old fairy living here, too. They were leading me to an even more overgrown part of the cave where quite literally everything was alive as an extension of the Brood-Mother. The sound of dripping water was muffled, absorbed by the soft, spongy floor that spread out before my feet could crush too many of them. In places, the fungal growth was so dense that it seemed to pulse and breathe, and it looked almost exactly like the algae and moss that had overtaken this place, probably another camouflage technique to blend in.

"Grace will do just fine," I said. "This is Buddy, Sunshine and Cassianus. I have more of them, but they're in their Pokeballs right now." Each greeted her in their own way. Cass chimed, surprisingly more trusting than the other two while they simply nodded with wary stares. "Um, sorry, but is this air safe to breathe?"

Worry not, for human bodies prove to be rather, unsuitable hosts. We have adapted to Paras, and Paras only. No harm shall befall you here, no matter the extent of us, you might inhale, Parasect whispered.

I wasn't able to tell if that was a lie or not, which was certainly disconcerting, but if they'd wanted me dead, they probably would have attacked already. That wasn't their prerogative, or how the world itself saw them.

Gone were the wild Pokemon here. It was just spores, spores and more spores. It was not until Parasect reached the edge of the cavern, that she stopped.

They'd brought us to the seat of their power, where the air itself could choke you, if they wished. The surface of the stone was no longer visible, and each second, the fungus throbbed with a bright glow like a heartbeat. Paras scuttled, tending to the fungus with an eerie semblance of care and purpose. Some rubbed it all over their bodies, covering themselves in it, while others ate them for what I assumed was faster growth? They all bowed to us when we walked through, and my nose wrinkled, both due to the thick air and the apparent servitude.

Still, it was a measure of trust, that Parasect had let me bring Sunshine in here, given that the thing this organism was the weakest against was fire. He had, of course, trapped his body temperature beneath his scales, and allowed cold to flood his surroundings once more.

No need to look, so disturbed, Brood-Mother said. They only do it to spread the spores, where they leave far away, and for their own protection. If they are attacked, we may sense it and keep them alive, through the fungus they imbibed, though we doubt that will happen in, the near future.

Parasect hissed out of the mouth of their puppet, and the Paras stopped bowing to her. They scattered at once, slipping out of view and crawling on the walls. Some remained grouped— a cluster around a small, rectangular hole in the wall only large enough to fit Paras and more Fungus, which was where Parasect had stopped us.

Maybe I couldn't beat them after all, I slowly pondered. Not here, where they would be at their strongest. Theirs was a story of a mother, a caretaker and a protector, but her actual offensive strength and skill ran parallel to that story and was completely unrelated. I knew, though, that if I struck first, she would win without a shadow of a doubt, like Mathilda's role in the Lost Tower, but lesser.

Which meant that she too, could not strike first.

Not that I was planning on a fight. It was just that…

"Sorry, it's just… it's difficult to reconcile, sometimes." I paused, blowing fungus off my tongue with disgust. It had slipped into my mouth when I'd been speaking. "How your species functions."

Parasect's claw snapped, and they gestured at one of their children. The young Paras, her eyes full of life, stopped huddling around the hole and crawled on my leg, then stomach, then shoulder. It took everything I had not to shiver in fear, given that I still had a pale scar on my back from one biting me right next to my spine from months ago. Her mind was not… primitive, but it wasn't as smart as I was used to with Pokemon, either. Her emotions were simple and unrefined.

The two mushrooms on her back were void to my senses.

When you, look at her, Parasect wondered. What do you see?

I carefully considered my answer as I stared into the bug type's vibrant eyes. She tried to claw at the hair that slid underneath my helmet, grasping at it like threads.

"I see a tragedy," I answered. "I see a life that, if it ever feeds the fungus enough and it decides to evolve— if you ever decide to evolve and take over a second body fully— will get snuffed out like it never even existed."

There was no reaction to her. Let us get on with your task, then, Parasect said. Once again, a hiss made all Paras retreat, including the one on my shoulder, and finally revealed the small rectangular hole below. The mountain's tremors have, collapsed part of this tunnel. Within it rests our next clutch of eggs, and we cannot get them out despite, our best efforts. We ask that you rescue them for us.

"I can do that, I think, but it has to be delicate work. Cass, are you up for it?"

Their eyes turned to upside-down U's."Of course. I love charity."

Anyone else, and I would have taken that to be an ironic statement. Not them, though.

"Alright." I grabbed Princess's Pokeball and it swelled to its full size in my hand. "Arceus, this is going to be difficult to explain."

Yet I did, to the best of my ability. She was spooked by all the fungus and the giant Parasect next to me, but the fact that I hadn't immediately ordered her to attack calmed her down some. She eyed the cavern with a curious stare and grunted in between coughs that would remain until she adapted to the air there. I had considered Sweetheart, but what we needed was more of a gentle touch.

"There are… Arceus, there are at least a hundred eggs in there, I think. It's difficult to count in detail when the lives aren't fully formed and are at different stages of development." I caressed her head, and she leaned into the touch. "They're babies. Innocent to all of this and scared. We need to get them out of here. Can you work with Cassianus for me?"

Princess agreed, and glanced at the psychic. They planned how they were going to do it for a minute or so, with Princess saying that she couldn't just turn the stone to mud and drag it out, given that more of the cave might collapse onto the eggs and risk shattering them. Cass then came up with the idea to mold the burying hole itself and to widen the space Paras had to crawl into it.

It was a good idea, though a lot tougher than anything else. It would require a lot of micromanagement from both, but they excelled at it and it would be the fastest way. Another large tremor risked crushing all the eggs that remained, and using the Paras to get them out would be quicker.

It began slowly, the earth liquefying before parting like water. A barrier underneath kept most of it still, because Princess couldn't actually lift it all. It was difficult to remember that she was being asked to move hundreds of kilos of earth, or perhaps even more. She was built for precision, not for brute force. Togekiss quickly siphoned most of the earth away, dumping it on the ground nearby while Cass gave her the support she needed and kept the whole structure from collapsing— and from the constant blare of shifting stone, it was close to it.

Then, the Paras were called in. The small collapsed tunnel was widened enough to fit them, now, and they scuttled in by the dozens. A minute later, the first egg came out. It looked like a smoothened stone, though there were still hints of faded orange, and even before Paras' birth, it was already covered in fungus. A single Paras was enough to carry a single egg, given that they propped it up on their backs. They moved as one, never getting in each other's way, and in perfect files to be as efficient as possible. Sometimes I would hear, though not understand, a command from the Brood-Mother, because I finally understood the fungus itself was not a Pokemon. They could only use moves and TE through the Pokemon they possessed, but that was why I couldn't actually use my powers on Parasect.

Some of the eggs… were broken.

Sometimes the tremors had it crack early, and the baby Paras had died to the elements of the tightened cave, their body unprepared for life in an environment so brutal. Sometimes, a shard of stone had lodged itself in the egg and killed the baby growing inside. When that happened, the Paras still carried the corpses. Overall, the majority of eggs were saved, though they couldn't be moved to another burrow until the mountain stopped constantly shaking.

It hurt, still. There was so, so much death, and this was only a single window into the true scale of the horror happening within these caves. Every Pokemon had a story like this. Their lives were being ruined.

It was difficult, to see the entire colony mourning. To hear the constant hisses of sorrow in between the Brood-Mother's commands and orders, to see the watering eyes, always so expressive despite the fact that work to secure their siblings had to continue. Once all of the eggs were out, along with a few surviving Paras which had been taking care of them when the place had collapsed, Princess and Cassianus allowed it to fall and seal off the burrow. Dust mixed with the fungus, but luckily wind from Togekiss swept it away from me.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Parasect's mushroom twitched. If Coronet perishes, we shall all meet our demise, alongside it. Then, the whole body turned to me. But you truly are sorry, aren't you?

"It hurts to be so powerless." My eyes shut tight, and I centered myself with a deep breath. "I lost people recently. A woman whose job it was to protect me, who I wished to grow closer to, and a close friend who wanted nothing more but to make the world a better place." I tried not to look at my team— and to not think about the others, but I failed. "And I might lose more before the day's over."

I looked into Parasect's empty gaze, and an organism larger than I could ever fathom looked back.

"Your children. Do you love them?"

With every fiber, of our being, they answered firmly. We perceive your judgments, predicated on morals foreign to us, yet what we enact is as much akin, to love as the act of humans pressing their feeding holes, together signifies their affection. We take, indeed, and when our host surrendered her essence to ensure, the survival of the whole, we grieved with such intensity that we nearly perished from starvation.

Teeth sank into my lips, yet I listened.

What we have become, is the culmination of generations upon generations of evolution, and yet, we stand powerless to halt its course. Do you believe Paras on, their own would survive without us? Do you believe we haven't attempted to, preserve their consciousness? That we derive any form, of pleasure from draining the spirit of those we have been bonded with, since our growth in our egg? No! Their voice boomed with a hiss of their host, and tendrils of fungus writhed out of their mouth. The blight snaked around my ankles and tickled them, and the puppet's claws snapped in anger.

No. It just is, they finished, sounding so, very tired. It just is.

"I'm… sorry."

When we asked you earlier, what you thought when you saw, our children working, Parasect continued. We see family, as you do with your own brood. We see love, playfulness, sorrow and worries. We see so many things, and we know you do as well, only you have shut your eyes to it because we work, as one for the survival of all, because… purpose is glorious.

There were no words. Only the dripping of water against the damp fungus and Coronet's tremors. The eyes of countless Paras surrounded me, waiting for my answer. Even Sunshine was fully focused on the one-sided conversation, now, his usual disrespect having been replaced by a painful expression.

"Why tell me this?" I asked, voice wavering with uncertainty.

Because we feel like it matters, Parasect said. Like you are someone, who cares, and who Coronet has accepted as its own child.

"Do… do all Parasect feel this way?" I asked.

Does it matter?

The answer was no, then.

"No. No, it does not."

Parasect just stared. It was uncanny, not being able to tell what they were thinking. Thank you for your, help. Now, it is my understanding that you wish to ascend, they said, scuttling across the ground. I cannot leave. My Brood must be protected, should this situation come to pass, but… ah, yes.

Another Paras— no, the same one which had climbed on top of me climbed on her parent's shell, and they brought her back to me.

This one will guide you to the next layer. She's quite adventurous and, knows this place like I do, Parasect said. The young Paras jumped on my face, and their claws and legs tickled my cheeks and forehead. She will make her way back, when you find the, way up.

I picked up Paras in my hands. "Thank you so much for the help."

You are a friend to us, Brood-Mother said. Should you want to, reach the summit, use your gift and help Pokemon in need. Learn about us, and we will help you.

Ah.

This felt so fulfilling.

"My friends and I will save your home."



The pathway up had been without any incidents, and Denzel had thanked the Legendaries a thousand times in his head for that. For the last thirty minutes, they'd been walking around some kind of algae and moss-filled area that fascinated him. Exploring new places like this always had, but there was no time to dilly dally.

Coronet had a way of…

Well, it was hard to explain.

Coronet was the tallest mountain in the entire world, and that meant that it took a week or more to climb— and that if you weren't slowed by wild Pokemon or the insides going haywire.

It could also, if approached the right way, be climbed in barely a day.

Denzel didn't understand how they'd made it through the second floor so quickly, but they just did. The path had a way of pointing Chase in the right direction if he complained about it enough and… well, he called it 'getting the fucker to help itself', but Denzel figured it was more like Coronet was responding to his will, or something like that. He didn't have much to go on other than theories. Was this what the League had meant, when they'd said Team Galactic and the shards would be at a significant advantage? Because making it through this place so fast when he'd struggled for so long on the base layer was relieving.

And they soon found the path up to the third one.

The third layer of Mt. Coronet was a realm of stark contrasts and bizarre formations. Crystalline rock formations twisted and contorted into fantastical shapes that shouldn't have been possible, and they bounced so many colors that rainbows shone everywhere Denzel looked. Flower-like crystals covered the rocky ground, most of them blue and with glowing yellow buds. The cavern was narrower here than before, and the ceiling far lower as well, but at least they'd be able to save on their batteries, since they wouldn't have to use flashlights.

"Ohhhhh, sweet! Finally! I was aching for some company!"

Denzel's blood ran cold.

Mars and her team stood in front of them. Ninetales, Clefable, Seviper, Bellossom and Wigglytuff, along with Dusknoir dancing within her shadow. She had a giant smirk on her face, so innocent, yet he knew better than to believe it was anything else but sinister. There were also grunts— though only three of them—

"Kill yourselves."

The Voice had come out before Denzel realized what was even happening. Chase's shoulders sagged, and just as Seviper's tail lunged for its own throat, Ninetales sapped the heat off of her own body, Bellossom began to wilt like a dying flower, and Dusknoir began to shake and scream, Mars quickly recalled her Pokemon, rereleasing them faster than he could see her hands move. A blast of concentrated aura had already been flying off Lucario's palm, but Mars had thrown herself to the side and it had only taken a chunk off of her shoulder. Shadows bled off of the wound, but it was as if she couldn't even feel the pain. The grunts and their Pokemon died in their own way, but Mars?

One, she had come prepared for the Voice.

Two, it hadn't worked on her.

Was it because she wasn't alive— no, that didn't make any sense, it had worked on ghosts before— was it because she was one of the users of the Red Chain? Mesprit was nowhere to be seen, but it was possible she'd sent it up with someone else and had kept its protection.

"Nice attempt at cheating." Mars pouted, her hands on her hips. "I didn't even want those lame-os to help me. Come on, let's have some fun. Release your Pokemon already! I'll wait!"

"Well, Williams." They looked at each other, and an understanding passed between them. "It's been a pleasure."

They'd met each other long ago, in that arena in Jubilife where Ri had thrashed his Eevee. He had hated him for launching him into a spiral of self-deprecation and doubt.

Now they were here, backs against a newly formed wall cutting them off the second floor. Denzel's fists clenched so hard he could nearly feel his nails through his gloves. His legs shook, his knees felt weak, he had a terrible stomachache and he pictured himself dying, truly internalized it.

What was coursing through him was pure terror. The terror of being faced with your own impending doom, and being able to do nothing about it.

Yet,

He had to fight. If not him, then Mars would eventually fall upon someone else, and the fact that he wanted to protect his friends overtook everything else. Better him than any of the others, if it had to be that way.

Calm did not spread through him in his hour of need, nor did a sense of focus settle in his mind. The terror was still there, and it would always be, but that is what made him human.

That is who Denzel Williams was.

"Love you, man," Denzel said. His footing was steady against the crystals, as was his voice.

Chase smiled and tried to adjust a cap that wasn't there. "Let's try and make this bitch bleed."

The cave shone scarlet, and the rest of their Pokemon emerged.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, yesnomaybeso, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Nova, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Eric, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Dvn, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, V4Ford, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G
 
Last edited:
Chapter 309 - To Slay a Monster
A/N: Sorry for the wait, this chapter was extremely difficult. As always, this is a fight with no rules where Pokemon and people try to kill each other, so trigger warning.

CHAPTER 309 - TO SLAY A MONSTER

It barely took a second for everything to go to shit.

First came an intense heat washing over Denzel's skin and a light bright enough to blind him through his eyelids. It refracted all over the cave's gems and became a rainbow so radiant that colors were wrong the next time he opened his eyes. Above them all was a sun— a ball of raging, boiling plasma so loud he could barely hear himself think. Continuous explosions and howling, scorching winds from the most powerful Sunny Day he had ever seen instantly had him sweating bullets from beneath his winter coat, and it would have gone further, still, had Froslass not instantly sapped the heat from the air to keep Chase and Denzel from suffering from burns akin to Grace.

Chase said something to his left, but he quite literally couldn't hear. He had forgotten to keep track of Dusknoir and flinched when the ghost reappeared right in front of him, the mouth of his abdomen wide open and the screams of the souls he had captured barely breaking through the roar of the sun. The world turned monochrome as Dusknoir struggled against the shimmering Protect from Milotic that had kept him from dying right then and there, and a darkened, flaming void from Houndoom pushed him back. Lucario blurred with a burst of aura at his feet and shrapnel from aura-infused bones burst from Lucario's palm and shredded past his sickly, ghostly form.

Take a deep breath.

Fights all around him were going on simultaneously. Vikavolt crackled with a brilliant burst of electricity, shooting toward the floating Wigglytuff who had inflated like a balloon and was in the process of swallowing the sun. Bellossom was walking with thick, thorny vines from beneath her dress like an Octillery and kept Zangoose at bay, but a flex from Chase's Abomasnow froze them in place long for Altaria to hit the grass type with a Flamethrower. Seviper cut across Lopunny's arms with an acid-infused tail, melted fur and skin until Sylveon pulled her away by extending his ribbons. Dusknoir continuously tried to snipe off members of their team by swallowing them whole, but Lucario was barely enough to track him with aura and constantly communicated with Houndoom and Froslass so they could stalk the ghost and keep him at bay. Milotic blasted high-pressured water, foaming and barely contained toward Ninetales to keep it on the backfoot. If it was focused on shielding Mars, then it wasn't burning them to death.

The sound, the visual stimulation, the panic—it was all so overwhelming that he didn't know where to look or what to say. This was a battle with eighteen Pokemon, and he would never be able to keep track of what was happening at all times. It was only when Wigglytuff swallowed Ninetales' sun and glowed just as bright that Chase pulled Denzel close and yelled in his ear now that he had any chance to be heard.

"Ninetales is acting as her psychic!" he clammed. Sigilyph teleported away a blast of electricity from Clefable's fingers and hit Seviper instead, allowing Lopunny and Sylveon to press their advantage until Dusknoir forced them to retreat. "If we hit her or Dusknoir and kill them, we win the fight!"

"We have the numbers to overwhelm!"
Denzel screamed back so hard his throat hurt. "But—"

Wigglytuff landed on the ground with a loud crash, creating a crater so wide that Roserade fell in. With the roar of the sun now gone and only other attacks from the surrounding fights to impede them, they could speak clearly again, and Chase barked out an order at Denzel to snap him out of it. He managed to recall her and release her close before her head slipped out of view, and high above them Vikavolt and Altaria tried to interrupt whatever it was Wigglytuff was doing, but Dusknoir— and it looked like that fucker was way faster than they'd ever given him credit for— stood in front of the attacks and took the hits like they were nothing. Wigglytuff's ears twitched, it scowled, and it opened its mouth again.

Then, light and a screech—

Denzel couldn't see.

He was blind. He blinked, he rubbed his eyes, but he couldn't see anything. The next moments felt like an eternity, underneath Milotic's protective bubble, and even that strained. When it all dissipated, no crystals or rainbows remained in their part of the cave. They were dust and ash, colorless stones that littered the floor. Milotic sagged with heavy breaths and the Protect dissolved. The cave itself was glowering red, save for the area below their feet. The heat from the attack had scorched every inch of stone, and Denzel could feel the heat on his face. The blast had left a clear indentation in the cavern floor where melted stone slowly pooled.

Their fliers were fine, and were still fighting. Vikavolt, Altaria, Sigilyph had been out of the blast's range. Roserade, Lucario and Sylveon were lucky to have been around Milotic at the time of the attack. Froslass had disappeared, fortunate not to have to bear the brunt of the attack, and Houndoom was nigh immune to the fire, but…

Zangoose, Lopunny and Abomasnow weren't as lucky. The first two were barely standing, but they'd been fast enough to get to the edge of the blast. Their legs were trembling, and their fur had been burned clean off. Their skin was charred— cooked to an extent than Denzel could smell it, and it took everything he had not to empty his stomach in front of him.

Yet, they were standing. Abomasnow, however, was not.

He'd been at the center. Denzel could barely recognize his shape.

Chase shut his eyes. "Is… Ri, is he—"

Denzel didn't know what Lucario answered to that, but there was no time to even mourn Abomasnow's possible death. Wigglytuff burped and grinned, Ninetales summoned another sun, and the fighting resumed all around him.

They could do this all day,
he quickly realized. They were not alive, and so this attack— a blast from a sun amplified by Wigglytuff's belief— could be replicated over and over and they would never tire. Chase recalled his Abomasnow amidst the fighting, and again, the roar of the sun destroyed any chances but the loudest of words to make their way toward him.

Denzel screamed toward Chase, but he realized his friend must have had his hearing screwed by Wigglytuff's attack. Even he, still had a ring in his ear. Sigilyph wasn't good enough with barriers to block out sound, she had focused on other things like remote Teleportation.

Case in point, a column of flames powered by Ninetales' Sunny Day burst from Clefable's finger, and the fairy type got hit by its own attack. It snarled, but had no way to hope to even touch Sigilyph when she was in the sky. Instead, Clefable lifted a hand, brought it down, and Sigilyph crashed to the floor under the weight of gravity. Cracks formed in her ceramic-like skin, but the real attack came from Dusknoir, who phased back into reality with a fist wreathed in shadows whose screams Denzel could somehow still hear, and Seviper stopped dueling with Lucario and rushed toward the fallen psychic. The poison type's skin was scarred by countless aura or electrical burns, but again, they did not tire.

Wigglytuff, instead of floating up to swallow the sun again, swelled to an unbelievable size and blocked the ray from Chase's Pokeball. The red light just harmlessly touched its skin.

He couldn't recall her, yet instead of panicking, they used the opening to attack the sun with everything they had. Altaria's fiery Moonblast nearly collided with the burning ball of hot plasma and threatened to cleanse it, but Ninatale's eyes flashed with fury and the Moonblast exploded before it could touch it.

Something snapped in Zangoose's eye, and she blurred impossibly fast— she was already in front of Wigglytuff, her claws having grown twice their size and full of poison. The claws themselves didn't cut through Wigglytuff, but the poison did, and combined with multiple Poison Cutters from Roserade, the fairy type deflated like a balloon and went flying in the air. Vikavolt jumped to the opportunity and his mouth clamped down on Wigglytuff as he snatched it out of the sky, and appearing nearly completely like electricity, he flew away until they were both out of view. When all was said and done, Sigilyph was gravely hurt. Relying on her to be as snappy and reactive would be a lost cause, even if she could still fight.

Denzel turned to Chase, and he saw him mouth 'what now, bitch?'

Denzel blinked.

Through everything, he was still so focused on taking her down that he didn't even let the worry about Abomasnow and Vikavolt show on his face.

What am I doing? he asked himself, floundering and panicking, and for what? He moved for what felt like the first time in an eternity despite the battle barely having lasted two minutes, and he wiped the sweat of his forehead with a relaxed hand. Now that Wigglytuff was gone, Ninetales opted to fire lasers, literal lasers from her sun that scorched anything near them. Froslass managed to sap them of the worst of the heat, but any ice type attacks she fired would melt within seconds in the face of such power, and so she could only rely on Shadow Balls, Hexes, and Draining Kiss. Even Will-O-Wisps seemed to fall under Ninetales' control, once they got too close. They cried out from under their radiance and were pulled into her gravity as if they were fighting the sun itself.

Focus, he thought with a clenched fist. Ignore the fights around you. Ignore the fact that Dusknoir only hasn't killed all of you thanks to Houndoom fighting for his life and everyone else keeping him protected. There was more. Seviper, hidden in the shadows and looking for an opening. Bellossom, burned from her own teammate, yet constantly regenerating herself and slowly growing plants beneath her feet. Vines that snaked across the stone and Denzel feared what they would be capable of once the setup was finished. Clefable, jack of all trades, fired attack after attack and was capable of bending gravity to its will when anything got too close.

It was so difficult, to find an opening. To break the careful balance they had struck, only thanks to their advantage in number that still remained, yet he knew the situation was untenable. Sigilyph was letting Clefable's Thunderbolts, Flamethrowers, Magical Leafs and Water Pulses hit so much more often. Each of them was as powerful as a Pokemon who had mastered that type, or more. It wasn't infallible, given that its range with Gravity was at the very least manageable, but the point was this:

They were going to lose if nothing changed.

He could hear a little better now that Ninetales had exhausted her sun some, so he took a step toward Chase and screamed directly into his ear. "It's like you said!" he had to say it once, twice, three times for him to hear. "Ninetales needs to go before Bellossom finishes whatever the hell she's doing!"

"We can't really coordinate with this sound! Sig can't talk to relay, and Ri can't fucking hear!"

This might be a tough one, but…

"Let's hit Seviper!"
Denzel yelled. When Chase looked at him like he was stupid, he continued. "It's out of left field, but they won't expect it!"

Out of every Pokemon here, Seviper was the least useful. It was an assassin built to take down its enemies by surprise, yet that was difficult when so many Pokemon had eyes and could track it with their various senses everywhere it went. Common sense therefore dictated that it should be the target they worried about the least.

He wished he could explain more, but he couldn't. Every word Chase understood was a miracle rather than the norm. If Denzel looked at this battle— really looked at this battle and took a step back, he could see the moving parts. The whole, rather than the individuals. At that level, at that scale, a fight turned more into a battle of concepts and tactics. Like two tides shifting and struggling against each other for every inch.

Mars' tactic was to keep Lucario, Houndoom, Froslass, and to a lesser extent, Sigilyph and Sylveon, stuck to her Dusknoir to have him absorb pressure that could be applied elsewhere otherwise, because if they didn't, then he would just kill all of them. Ninetales was her anchor, the crux of her strategy. It was the fire type, who was pulling the most weight. Who was allowing Bellossom to creep closer and closer with her thorny vines, and who had allowed Wigglytuff to hit them with something akin to the most powerful of Hyper Beams. Hers was a game of waiting and tiring them out, because as powerful as her Pokemon were individually, as much as they could battle at full capacity for so long, Denzel and Chase were enough to stand up to her for at least a few minutes.

Their impetus was to finish the battler quickly, and Mars knew it. She had, despite everything, good instincts. Her Pokemon knew exactly how to space his and Chases'. There was, however, a flaw in her plan.

Treat this like a battle. It's all a game, Denzel. Sport.

The words were crisp in his mind even with everything raging around him— mostly fire. A Moonblast from Sylveon had captivated Mars' team enough to allow Sigilyph to hit Mars with a blast of psychic energy akin to Psybeam, but stronger. Countless multicolored lightrays that were mixed together and grew into a single ray. The attack broke through Ninetales' barrier, and Mars' still wounded shoulder snapped clean off, and she lost an arm.

She was bleeding for this, too. Struggling. It was not a one-sided beatdown as Denzel feared it would be. They could live through this!

The weakness in Mars was that her Pokemon were treating Chase's with much more caution. They hesitated to get within their range or grasp and most of their ire was concentrated toward killing his Pokemon while Denzel's were allowed far more freedom of movement.

Oh. Oh, he saw it now. As if he was floating on top of the entire fight with an analytical eye and his instincts were pulling him forward. There was a very narrow path through this fight. He didn't know if she was underestimating him because he wasn't a shard, but this would work in his favor.

Next to him, Milotic spat out water in a cone and instantly froze it. From afar, Froslass briskly waved an arm and deconstructed the ice. The bits of frost and slush, barely held together by the ghost's technique, rushed toward Dusknoir and clumped around him, turning purple as they did so. Dusknoir screamed, and the ghost-posessed ice shattered in an instant, as did the spirits, but Houndoom used the opportunity to blow his arm away with more darkened fire that would never lose its vigor. Its fuel, as Denzel understood it, was—

Concentrate! There was a shape to this, a way to destroy Seviper before Mars or her Pokemon could realize what was happening…

Through a clenched fist, he managed to pull a plan for a small victory out of nothing. He could do this. He could conduct this battle in the right direction.

"Lopunny!"

Almost furless she might have been, her ears were still in good shape. Like he had found Chase through her, he would have her listen to his plan. She had to slowly approach him as to not alert Mars. The normal type jumped back to avoid a flurry of elemental attacks from Clefable, but the Water Pulse that somehow didn't vaporize in the sun scraped her leg and bled her. Eventually, she was close enough and he spilled everything as fast as his mouth could move. She could not relay it to the others, but she could have Sylvi feel what the plan was through his ribbons. The normal type landed right next to him in a single jump, creating a tiny crater, and she grabbed onto his ribbons like her life depended on it, pulling them tight. Mars was all too distracted by Chase, and his Pokemon had suffered for it. Sigilyph had to be recalled due to being focused down by Clefable, and that piece of shit was everywhere, always smiling with glee whenever one of its attacks hit.

Vikavolt was gone, fighting Wigglytuff on his own, and both Sig and Abomasnow were down. Chase was down to three Pokemon, and Mars had only lost a single one. Still, they had the opening they needed.

Roserade was tiring, now. Every plant, vine or thorn she tried to bring forth burned to smithereens, unlike Bellossom's, and this was not a gentle sun from which Synthesis could be effective, but one created to burn the world to ashes. The most she could do was spray her opponents with poison. Hurt it as much as she wanted to, for once. She carried around her three spheres of noxious liquid potent enough to dent steel, and from them, an array of Poison Cutters shot out continuously. She could control them with Extrasensory like a water type toying with water, and she was the reason Clefable couldn't let completely loose.

He hadn't planned for what happened next, but he had expected it.

Roserade burned to a crisp as a ray of sunlight bore through her. He had noticed that they'd been targeting her the most out of all his Pokemon, along with Seviper striking from behind. Denzel guessed that it was because they feared she'd be able to screw with whatever Bellossom was springing up and Mars' team was generally weak to poison. Seviper slid around Zangoose, who had attempted to block it from getting closer, but Lopunny stepped on top of its tail and grasped it by the throat with a flaming fist until Clefable separated both, dissecting the gravity in between them to pull them away. That precision was such fucking bullshit.

But it was still fine. His stomach felt like it was twisted into a knot and his chest was squeezed so tight it was as if he was having a heart attack, but it was fine.

Now propelled by gravity, Seviper coiled around Roserade and squeezed. Its fangs bore into her neck, but nowhere Denzel aimed with her Pokeball made contact with her skin. The poison type writhed and thrashed around, constricting her with enough force to crush metal, and he dragged her toward the indentation in the ground created by Wigglytuff and Ninetale's giant beam of plasma.

"Sylvi! Altaria!"

He wasn't heard, and yet they were already moving. Sylveon's ribbons extended and gained weight, each movement laborious and slow, yet when he closed the distance and gravity slammed into his face, his ribbons kept going. Altaria covered for him, both with attacks and defense. Layers and layers and solid cotton, not yet burned through the sheer force of her will, clamped around Sylveon and kept him insulated from Ninetales's fiery rays or Clefable's catalog of offensive moves. The ribbons tore between the little space Seviper gave between its and Roserade's and pulled.

Seviper screamed. They couldn't hear it.

Sylveon's rage tore the snake in half, and blood, shadows and guts poured onto the floor. Seviper writhed and convulsed against the stones, and Mars' face fell in a very satisfying way. It was so quick, too. Too quick. Two seconds, and it was gone. Denzel felt a shiver go up his spine, yet he tempered it and tightened his jaw. It wasn't for nothing, that Sylvi could use Hammer Arm.

Seviper was a ghost, a revenant that had come back from the dead, and yet it could still die again.

And it did.

See, that was a weakness. She had come to kill, but had not expected to be killed in return, or at least not by his Pokemon, and Mars was, as Grace had told him, not someone who could change. What you saw was what she was, and so she was also, when you thought about it with a clear mind, a battler who could not expect the unexpected, because the world, to her, fit in one, neat little box. What had just happened was as if someone had tried to cut a cube and shove it in a triangle-shaped hole.

Battles such as this— battles with so many participants you couldn't keep track of everything, were not won through individual orders or grand, sweeping plans. Denzel finally understood, now, that they were won through figuring out the flow of a battle, and he could do that, if he treated it like a sport. It was the thing he was fucking good at.

The roar of the sun ended like someone had flipped a switch. The fire remained, but the sound was contained by a neat, tightly wound psychic barrier courtesy of Ninetales. Sylveon grabbed Roserade's unconscious form with bloodied ribbons and allowed Denzel to recall her. He tried not to think about the extent of the poison— about how Seviper had been so strong he had managed to poison a poison type— and hoped the stasis from the Pokeball would be enough, like he imagined Chase was doing with Abomasnow.

"You don't— you don't kill." Mars was looking at him like she was meeting him for the first time. "You're a flake! A boring flake!" she raged. Her face twisted in disbelief and grief. "You killed Snuggles!"

She seemed so much less scarier than before. It was like hearing a child scream for candy. Her stump of an arm flailed wildly as tears streamed down her cheeks. It looked like Dusknoir wasn't going to be able to bring Seviper back. The ghost hadn't even reacted to his teammate's death. Instead, he was still burning with endless pained wails of the people he tortured. Lucario fired off bubbles of concentrated aura that exploded with a brilliant blue upon impact with Dusknoir, somehow still shining through the monochrome grays.

Were the suffering in there like he was due to Houndoom's fire?

Denzel swallowed and buried the thought. This was a normal battle.

Eight against four.

Chase grunted and rolled his shoulder. It was slightly burned and bleeding. "Cry me a fucking river," he said, his voice still steady. "You're—"

"Bella! Dusky! Kill them!"

Ah.

They were too late.

From deep below the earth—

Denzel would have fallen on his back, had Milotic's tail not brushed against him to keep him standing, and Chase crouched, a hand against the ground to keep steady. Bellossom cried out as the sun mellowed out in an instant with conditions favorable to plants. No longer was it blinding, scorching, killing. It was the glow and warmth of a summer afternoon in the middle of July.

Houndoom, having put everything he was into shutting down Dusknoir, had not been able to burn through the vines snaking their way underneath the ground— or soil, now, Denzel noticed. It was mushy, like the stone had turned to dirt, dust and silt. Had he not, then maybe, just maybe they would have been able to dig their way underground to burn them at the source. Had Clefable and Ninetales not kept Bellossom so well protected, had the sun not melted ice so quickly it barely had any effect—

If, if, if.

Hypotheticals didn't matter right now. Stones fell from the ceiling, each boulder as large as a small house. One nearly crushed Zangoose, but Lopunny jumped in the air and kicked through it like butter, splitting it cleanly in two.

He—

Veilstone, three and a half months ago. Zachary v Grace. Ampharos creates a platform of cotton to stand on to avoid falling into a ravine.

He realized he'd been speaking his thoughts out loud when cotton gathered underneath their feet. They were too scattered to all get on the same platform, but Altaria managed to get the majority of their Pokemon into the sky. The flying type strained under their weight, and when Mars' Clefable targeted her, she too, retreated underneath a fortress of cotton. She would be hurt, eventually, but right now, she was all they had. The ground underfoot was full of vines, each as sharp as a knife. They were shaped like blades rather than thorny columns and they had filled the entire cavern, the walls and ceiling above them included. Denzel saw Seviper's corpse being swallowed by the vines. They writhed like maddened snakes and even sliced at the intact stone around Mars, Ninetales and Clefable.

This is exactly like Tangrowth's vine terrain, Denzel quickly realized. His footing was uneven, like he was walking on, well, cotton, but he couldn't expect the platforms to be solid when Altaria was focusing on so many. Only Milotic was on his own platform, while Chase and all of his remaining Pokemon had his own. The rest were strewn about the skies, barely held afloat by Altaria's belief.

"Burn them to ashes!" Mars hissed. "Dusky!"

They were separated, now, and even if they weren't Dusknoir had them in his sights. He was easily traceable due to the ever-burning fire, thank the Legendaries, so Milotic, now free from protecting him the awful burning of the sun, summoned a torrent of water around the black flames. The liquid snapped into place, and once more, Froslass froze it. A Blizzard was gathering around her, but she couldn't let it loose or she would get all of them killed. Instead, the cold wind helped to instantly freeze the water into crystals, trapping Dusknoir into yet another prison. Anything to buy them time.

But it also helped to stave off Ninetales' white-hot Flamethrower, as did Milotic. Water and ice, combined together, were barely enough to turn the jet of flames into something manageable for the cotton not to burn. The flames licked at the edges of Denzel's clothes and he felt the sheer heat on his ankles and legs, but the fact of the matter was that they weren't winning hard enough. In fact, they were barely hanging by a thread. Sickle-like vines were perpetually trying to get to them, and only Zangoose and Froslass managed to keep them away, the former by cutting and the latter by flash-freezing.

Now that Froslass was growing more and more distracted, Dusknoir was already out and barrelling toward Sylveon with the howl of a thousand voices, and Denzel quickly recalled the fairy type before he could get anywhere close. Mars stomped her feet against the ground and whipped out a Pokeball and—

Denzel screamed as loudly as he could, "She's releasing him on us—"

Behind him, the temperature plummeted. More light than he thought possible drained from the world, and chills upon chills crawled onto his skin. He couldn't react. His thoughts were fast enough, but his body wasn't.

There was a screech from Froslass, and something exploded behind him. He fell onto the cotton, his body limp, and his arm hung from the side. He would have fallen off the platform, had his sides not frozen against the surface.

Frozen. That was what he was. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see another one of Froslass' clones explode onto Dusknoir. He tried to bypass her, but Milotic coiled around Denzel with a tight Protect. Sylveon was still in his Pokeball, but every time he tried to move, his fingers shook uncontrollably. He'd never been this cold before. So cold the sensation turned into a weird, warm numbness instead that had him unable to even clench his fingers like he so desperately wanted to. So cold his body was starting to shut down and he could only hear himself breathe.

Breathe.

To be this cold was to have someone whispering in your ear to close your eyes and drift off to sleep, but he wouldn't. Denzel's nose flared, and warmth slowly returned to his body. There was a shaking of their platform, and he felt an arm around his shoulder. No, he didn't feel it. Touch was entirely gone, somehow, but the pressure from contact, he could still sense. Someone slapped his cheek a few times—

"Wake the fuck up!" Chase yelled.

"Huh?" The word came out slurred, somehow. "What?"

"Keep warming him. Keep fucking warming him."

Denzel blinked a few times and saw Zangoose dispatch of at least twenty sharpened vines in one slash. Despite the fact that the claw hadn't even made contact with the plants, they still fell apart like shredded paper. Chase had apparently released Sylveon, too, given how he was yelling in his face in anguish.

Altaria had brought the islands together for Chase to grab him, and then separated them from Dusknoir while Froslass had distracted him, it seemed, but for that, the dragon had suffered an awful wound. Clefable, who had been firing attack after attack without end had finally broken through her wall of cotton and she was barely keeping herself afloat. It had not been a crushing loss, however. While yes, Clefable could not tire, Denzel could see that it had suffered many wounds, mostly burns and cuts deep enough to reveal the shadowy construct holding its artificial flesh together.

But he couldn't recall her. Not when she was the only thing keeping them alive. That meant that they had a little bit to deal with Bellossom.

Froslass was—

"W—where's Fro—slass?" Denzel's tone trembled both due to the cold and his fear. He could see Dusknoir circling them thanks to the flames, but he was confident their entire team could keep him at bay. Powerful or not, there was no way he could approach without suffering, and he actually did get tired. "Lop—punny?"

"Lopunny's right here." Chase quickly said, and she patted Denzel on the head. He still couldn't feel it. "Froslass is dead. Sacrificed herself to buy us time. Sorry, Houndoom's flames probably contributed."

His heart sank—

"Ghost," Chase said, rubbing his bloodied shoulder. Mars bellowed out orders from bellow, and he clicked his tongue and called her a bitch under his breath. "It doesn't mean anything. She'll be back and when this is all over and the mountain's back to normal, they can send people to look for her. We have to deal with Bellossom. How much time does your Altaria have?"

Denzel gulped, happy that Chase was here to keep him centered. He'd been fighting his own fight this entire battle, even though Denzel had paid minimal attention besides Dusknoir. The platform was wavering beneath their feet, and Denzel could feel himself sink beneath the fluffy cloud, now, and without Froslass here, only Milotic could keep Ninetale's fire at bay. This time, they came in the shape of narrow, paper-like slits, almost as if the fire itself was a solid, but Milotic had gathered enough water to counter her.

And… was flooding her sun with it, apparently. Denzel hadn't figured it out, and it was noticeable now that he was closer to the Sunny Day, but Ninetales' sun was desperately trying to grow and burn as it had earlier.

But his eyes snapped back to Altaria. She had brought them close to her, which made sense given that Dusknoir would have been able to just kill her in isolation if she hadn't. Continuous Vacuum Waves from Lucario that made Denzel's ears pop dismantled or weakened attacks thrown their way from Clefable, now. The majority of them still made it and ate at the cotton from below. They were lucky they were so high, or it would have brought them down with Gravity.

"Two minutes, maybe," Denzel concluded.

"Great. Fucking great." Chase's hand went to readjust his cap, but it only found a caving helmet instead. The cloud beneath them shook as another attack hit, something he couldn't see. "Got anything like what you did before? I could have Houndoom burn it, but that means Dusknoir can run free. He needs focus for his flames, or Ninetales will just smother them."

His thoughts were still slow, but the clock was ticking. He groaned as Chase helped him up. They had no Kingambit at their disposal, no grass types to try and wrestle control away from Bellossom, and… his thoughts trailed off as he quickly went through the catalog of battles. Thousands of hours of footage he'd seen throughout the years at every level of play. He didn't know where his mind was taking him. Often, it was his gut that made decisions for him, and sometimes it bit him in the ass.

Not like they had any other choice, though.

"Ri's going to have to go down there and use Vacuum Wave with Zangoose as support to distract," Denzel whispered. "If you buy me… forty— fifty seconds, I can maybe do this."

Chase gestured with a finger, and both of his Pokemon jumped below without a single moment of hesitation, taking Denzel off-guard. His head turned toward Lopunny, and the normal type's ears twitched in anticipation, the scar on her ear she'd gotten from those Paras still visible. Below them, the sound of hacking and slashing filled the cave and Mars called out for Clefable to redouble her attacks now that Ri was no longer on the defense.

"Hey." Denzel's lips stretched into a shivering smile. "Copycat."

Lopunny cackled, all Mightyena-like, which was more disturbing considering the majority of her fur was burned to smithereens.

She backflipped off the flying cotton, and Denzel rushed to the edge to get a good look. Anxiety filled his every nerve, his mouth was so dry it was uncomfortable, and it hurt even to look, but he had to look. A shimmering green barrier from Milotic kept his head from getting blown off by a flying stone launched by Clefable. Arceus bless you, he thought with a sigh, and his eyes focused on the speck of pink and brown amidst the forest of vines.

Using Copycat here was like putting a band-aid over a severed limb. It wouldn't work. Not only was Lopunny not experienced enough with the technique, but the more complicated one was, the more bastardized the copy would be. That was fine, though. Lopunny was a scrapper, and she knew how to fight smarter rather than harder. The first of a hundred vines rushed toward her, and it barely swerved out of the way. Then again. Then again.

Then, she started running.

It gave her a knack for how whatever move was being used in front of her worked, and Denzel thanked his lucky stars he'd taught her Grass Knot two months ago to get her a foot in how grass Type Energy functioned. Lopunny's body caught on fire, and Ninetales yipped, sapping her of those flames before they could be put to use.

Good. It's distracted, too. Milotic's next Hydro Pump was swift, and it hit the fire type's sun, collapsing it entirely. The star exploded, raining fire down in the arena and the fox snarled.

Lopunny slammed a foot down and jumped toward Bellossom, who was using plants to stand about twenty feet and the sky, and was desperate not to get burned by her teammate's flames, but Ninetales had other priorities when Lucario and Zangoose struck at Mars from a distance.

Dusknoir appeared right next to them.

Denzel didn't look. Instead, he heard Houndoom, Sylveon and Chase desperately fight back.

His hands closed, and every muscle in his body flexed. "Close Combat!"

Lopunny's arc in the sky toward Bellossom was a straight line, and the air warped around her with a sharp whistle. The thick vegetation below her dress blurred as one, slicing the air again and again, and another set burst forth toward Lopunny faster than Denzel could blink.

The normal type twisted mid-air, using Bounce to propel herself once more, but one of the thick vines twisted and penetrated through her shoulder. Denzel cursed internally and prepared himself to recall her, but…

No.

Not again.

Endure. Loss, after loss, after loss, she had been through, and while none of them mattered here, Lopunny raged against the vine and clasped it with both of her hands while Bellossom brought her down to the floor. First came ice, and the entire length froze in less than two seconds until she quite literally flexed and the blade shattered in her shoulder, leaving only a gaping hole wide enough for Denzel to fit his hand through. Her right arm sagged as blood soaked her skin and what remained of her fur, but she was relentless. Denzel had ordered her to use Close Combat, and so she would use it even if she died to do so.

The little Buneary who had constantly hid behind his leg bounced once more, and she landed atop her enemy with a maddened grin.

Denzel didn't actually see Bellossom get beaten up, but he did see the vines writhe and retract. He heard the worried scream from Mars, saw her pull her Pokeball and he prepared to do the same for both Altaria and Lopunny.

Unfortunately, Altaria didn't lower them to the ground as soon as it was clear. She couldn't. The cotton disintegrated beneath their feet and they all fell to the floor below. Denzel screamed as he tumbled through the air, and he was, to his dismay, landed face-first. Sound rippled across his throat, but when he landed, he tumbled through what felt like sand instead until he reached the bottom of a dune.

Not that it didn't hurt. His entire face felt like one giant bruise, and he knew his right eyelid would start to swell rather soon. He scrambled back to his feet and looked to recall his Pokemon. First, Altaria, then Lopunny, who was still beating Bellossom's unconscious body or corpse, whatever it was. From the way Mars was reacting, it looked like it wasn't dead, and Denzel couldn't help but feel slightly relieved at that. Milotic had landed next to him, but Sylveon and the others were…

His eyes scanned the surroundings, and he warned Milotic to get ready to use Protect. The water type answered with a tired nod. He too, was on his last legs.

Five against three.

They had the numbers, still, but the situation was not ideal. He'd landed on a small hill turned into a grey dune, and he decided to climb it to get a better view. The moment he reached the top of the dune with labored breaths, another sun appeared, this time scorching enough to have him flinch back and burn the skin on his face until Milotic pulled up a Protect.

No more Froslass to deal with that, but at least Mars seemed to be content letting them hear, probably because she realized she needed to communicate with her team in order not to lose.

There. He noticed Sylveon still helping Chase. His friend was limping on his feet and holding the shoulder he'd been bleeding from, but he was alive, and so was Lucario, Houndoom and…

No, not Zangoose. She'd been recalled into her Pokeball, if he had to guess, so it was actually four against three. Shit. Houndoom stalked in-between Chase and Dusknoir while Lucario kept him shielded from the heat with a clumsy wave of aura. He was still red in the face and sweating like a pig.

Ninetales—

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK! Ninetales had left her station next to Mars and had become a ball of raging fire, leaving a trail of burned dust behind her that Denzel could smell from here, and Clefable had taken over with Protect instead of a barrier. He was too far, but he cupped her mouth and yelled anyway. Chase's head whirled behind him while Houndoom blasted Dusknoir with concentrated rings of darkness, and while the sun was fucking them, it was helping Houndoom, specifically.

Could he stop Ninetales?

No. Not when three Pokemon were barely enough to keep Dusknoir at bay. If one more fell, it'd be over. Houndoom had carried them for most of the fight, and him falling would be a catastrophe. Lucario was capable of hurting Dusknoir more than the others with how versatile he was with aura attacks, and while Sylveon was mostly there for support, his well-timed Disarming Voices were keeping them afloat. In fact, he had probably kept them as a last resort, and each subsequent scream would have less and less of an effect.

Well.

Shit.

"Surf," Denzel muttered with the weight of the world atop his back. Milotic gave him a look, but he repeated himself, stronger, this time, and he grabbed his breathing mask from his bag to cover his face.

Denzel bit down on the side of his mask, and the Protect went down.

Sacrifice was about throwing everything you could shed off of yourself for the people you loved. It was a testament to the depth of one's convictions and the strength of their commitment. No one would hear of what happened today. No one would realize why. For all intents and purposes, Chase, Mars, Denzel and their Pokemon were the only people who even existed. Denzel turned around and closed his eyes. All of his life, Denzel had been terrified of pain and risk. The day he'd found Sylvi in the wild, limping and bloodied, he'd been forcing himself out of the house, because he knew he'd need not to be scared when leaving civilization if he was to be a trainer like he wanted to. Day in, day out, he had left Twinleaf and desensitized himself to that fear, and today it was completely gone.

Denzel was still prone to fear. He was a coward. The fear of pain, of dying, of failure, of disappointing people, it had molded him into who he was, and yet he had forced himself to be the group's rock, someone they could depend upon, and so, there had been no doubt or hesitation in his mind.

Fire from the sun seared at his skin. At first, he figured he could take it. Painful, but bearable.

But then, the pain became worse.

And worse.

And soon, he was screaming just as loud as Milotic was while gathering up his Surf. Raindrops fell down his coat, though he barely felt them in the midst of the literal onslaught of pain coursing through his back. There was so much, so much, so much, so much— SO FUCKING MUCH.

PERSEVERE. DO IT FOR HIM. FOR THEM.

He didn't see—

He couldn't think—

He didn't know how much time passed, but when he came to, he was on the ground, and he would have been inhaling hot dust were it not for his mask. He grunted and crawled on the dust dunes. Every time his hand touched the ground, the palms of his hands fired off every pain signal imaginable. His back felt like it didn't exist any longer, but when he reached the top of the dune, he saw an ocean.

Ninetales was drowning.

It was visible, still. The Twister keeping it from swimming made sure of that, and water constantly evaporated around it. Ninetales was tumbling in the water, and Milotic's power over it held. Every few seconds, burst of flames bright enough for Denzel to see it through his eyelids flashed in a desperate attempt to blow away the water, but there was simply too much of it for that to matter. The sun was cooling, now, though it was still burning him, but at least he wasn't going to die.

It was then, however, that Mars recalled Clefable and sent it back out in the midst of Milotic's Surf. Denzel had considered it possible, that she would recall her Ninetales instead, but she was committed to this.

Mars was wide open.

But it didn't matter, did it? Not when attacking her with a single Pokemon would spell their doom. Clefable outstretched her hand with a scream, pushing the water in a circle around them.

"Squeeze them," Denzel rasped.

Milotic tried, he really did.

But it wasn't enough. Milotic couldn't blow through the heat and push against Gravity, and despite Clefable burning for its contributions, they were making their way toward Chase. Denzel was hidden enough for them not to target him, but he needed to think. What did he have at his disposal… the names of top-tier trainers, but no way to implement their strategies. He could barely even think straight. He tried to scream, but his voice came out as a low grunt and the inside of his throat just hurt until he spat blood. Communication was impossible—

No, Denzel. Fucking think!

His head hurt so much.

"Milotic," he muttered. "Warn… him."

The water type yelled, but dust gathered in the midst of the dry circle Clefable had afforded both itself and Ninetales. It coalesced, but it was difficult to tell through the water. Denzel squinted to get a better look, finally throwing off his mask.

Five seconds later, Chase fell and went limp. Stone pebbles had hit him in the leg and back, and would have hit his head had Lucario not heeded Milotic's warning and pulled him inward. Denzel internally swore and tried to stand up, once, twice, but he couldn't.

There was no more time for caution. "Get Mars," he coughed. "Get her."

She was just standing there, away from the water with tears in her eyes. Milotic sang, and the murky water rushed toward her. Tons upon tons of liquid that, even if it couldn't drown her, could crush her under its weight. Mars knew immediately, and she tried to run— faster than Denzel anyone had ever seen, but no matter how quick she was, she could not outrun an ocean.

"Dusky!" she called out. She lifted her hand and tried to aim at Dusknoir, but it took a few attempts to beam him in. Once she succeeded, however, she disappeared into the ghost's mouth despite being on fire.

He should have attacked her earlier.

He hadn't known.

He hadn't known Dusknoir loved her so much he would give up everything to save her. This was on him.

"Get me… there."

Denzel grabbed onto Milotic's back, and the serpent slid down the elevated dune. Eventually, he reached the water and started swimming toward Chase. Clefable and Ninetales were still slowly making their way to him as well, but they weren't going to outpace a water type in his element. Denzel nearly let go a few times and almost breathed in water. He might have drowned, had Milotic's fins not kept him on his back.

Milotic's ocean abruptly ended when they got thirty feet away from Chase, and he stayed in front of the wall to concentrate every effort he had into keeping Mars' Pokemon away. It was odd, to see her cry, and a good thing she cared, because she could have killed all of them had she not been focused on sparing her Pokemon's lives, even when they were focused on creating a new world where none of it would matter. She could have released Clefable closer to him, Denzel thought as he crawled toward his friend. Maybe she isn't used to repositioning her Pokemon, either. Not like she ever needed to be. It was Sylveon, face wrought with worry and rage, that brought him with closer, carrying him with his ribbons.

Chase was bleeding. Bleeding and slightly burned everywhere.

Lucario and Houndoom crowded around him, and it looked like he could barely keep his eyes open. The steel type had a hand on his forehead with aura emanating from his palm and Houndoom licked the bloodied holes puncturing his skin. There was— there was so much blood.

"Chase," Denzel grunted. "Chase, talk to me."

What came back were words Denzel could barely understand and a slew of swears, but this was— he could tell that this was fatal. Denzel quickly grabbed Chase's bag and struggled to unstrap it from his back until Sylveon and Ri helped him.

"I can't move my body very well." Each word was a struggle to get out. "And we might not have much time. Mars could be here any moment. You need to follow my instructions, he's carrying a first-aid kit—"

Lucario tore the bag open at its seams, and all of its contents clattered to the ground. He clawed open the first-aid box and grabbed a gauze, first. It was hard to tell with how much blood there was, but there was no exit wound, meaning that the pebbles were still stuck inside of him. Two at the back of his right leg, two on his back. Close to the… or maybe it had hit the spine. He couldn't tell. Denzel listed off instructions. Applying pressure with a gauze and keeping it there to get the bleeding under control, all while Denzel was desperately trying to keep Chase awake.

"Stay with me," he begged. "You're the toughest guy I know, Chase. Don't— stop closing your eyes! Hey! Good, good. Okay, just look at me. Look at my face. Just stay awake, we'll get you out of here. Can you understand me? Can you nod if you do?"

Chase spat out a mouthful of bloody phlegm and nodded.

"Great! Okay, good! Um, we—"

There was a warning cry from Milotic, and Denzel clenched a fist. Throughout this, Clefable had tried to launch more pellets, but Milotic had been a trooper and kept them safe. He was, however, getting tired, and such a wide Protect while keeping his ocean active and pushing inward to crush Clefable and Ninetales was a lot of work.

They were out of time.

But then, a flash of light. A burst of electricity illuminating the entire cave, and the buzzing of wings. Vikavolt traced through the sky and created a veritable storm that mixed his electricity with the water, and Clefable had to stop. Gravity could not bring electricity to heel, and so Thunder after Thunder started hitting both Pokemon. Even without a trace from Wigglytuff, Vikavolt had suffered from heavy wounds. His carapace was cracked all over and his left pincer was just gone. While he was as fast as he had been, that was more of a testament to his dedication than a statement about how fit he currently was for battle. Denzel knew he hadn't won against Wigglytuff, but dropping it far away from the battle while it had been weakened from poison had been enough and essentially had the same effect.

Vikavolt was fast. Wigglytuff was not.

He wished it had been enough.

Milotic fell to the ground from exhaustion, but not before putting up a wall of ice to keep the water contained. The liquid rushed to the sides instead, and Denzel noticed Clefable's twisted grin from behind the clear ice. But unlike what he expected, they did not break the ice and allow them to get lost to the waters, nor did Ninetales evaporate everything and burn them to a crisp. Instead, Mars fell from the sky and landed with a dull thud in the ground stones. Houndoom instantly tried to strike her, as did Sylveon, but their sluggish movements gave Dusknoir enough time to react with a slow Protect.

How strong was this ghost? How was it, that he could keep going after being beaten up so much? To have gone toe-to-toe with Houndoom, Lucario, Sylveon, Froslass and more? He didn't even look tired despite what Denzel wanted to think. Now free from Milotic's torrent, Clefable and Ninetales floated up and next to Mars.

They had nothing. Nothing but exhausted Pokemon who could barely stand on their own two legs, and a dying and a wounded teenager. Denzel took over putting pressure on the wound while Mars stared down at him with pleasure carved onto her face.

"I win. I fucking win," Mars growled. Her body and uniform were burned and she was barely recognizable. "And I'll have you pay for what you did to Snuggles." She pulled out a knife from her scorched boots and grinned as she approached Denzel. "I'll make it slow. Watch."

Denzel shut his eyes.

Then, a roar.

Then, fire.

Warmth tingled his skin, and a Charizard slammed into Ninetales with all of its— her strength. The fire on her tail shone with a bright white and she bit into the fox's neck with flaming teeth and tore it open. Mars swore, but Dusknoir swallowed her before she could realize what was happening, and Denzel breathed a sigh of relief as the ghost disappeared.

Since when could Charizard's fire be so strong she could challenge a Ninetales of such power?

The answer came soon enough when Braixen showed herself. She was riding on top of Braviary, and with a twirl of her staff, Charizard's flames grew so hot even Ninetales started screaming. There were voices he recognized in the background, and they sounded far away until Mira abruptly crouched next to Chase with Emilia and Pauline.

Lucario strained against Clefable, but the fairy type escaped by reversing gravity for herself and flew away, and endless shards of stone stabbed into it courtesy of Lycanroc. They fell from the ceiling with a vicious spin and sped up thanks to Braixen's support. There was more, so much more. Ambipom threw Vigoroth forward, coating the normal type in darkness, and he nearly crashed into the fleeing Dusknoir until Metang caught him. Was she using Fling on living things? She hadn't done that during their training. Gothitelle, Alakazam and Gardevoir kept the water from drowning them— he hadn't noticed the ice cracking under the water's weight— Magnezone and Porygon combining the electric attacks to hurt as much as possible…

Too much to keep track of, when he was barely conscious himself.

"Keep pressing!" Pauline said.

Mira gulped and pushed her now-bloodied hands onto Chase's back while Emilia put hers on his legs. "He's—"

"Going to live," Emilia interrupted. "Keep. Pressing."

"You— you bullies!
I fucking hate all of you!" Mars stomped a foot on the ground and bit her lip so hard shadows and blood leaked out of it. Standing atop a dune in the midst of Milotic's sea, she recalled Ninetales and Clefable, releasing them next to her. "Miserable little things."

Dusknoir placed a hand on her shoulder, but she snarled. "Shut up! You fucking liar! You couldn't even deal with like, five of them! Because of you Snuggles died! But you don't care, do you?"

"Emi," Pauline whispered.

Emilia and Pauline shared a look, and they sprung to action without a word.

"Houndoom, can you light Charizard with your dark fire?" Emi asked. "I know you're tired, but this is the only way it's going to work."

"What are you guys doing?" Denzel slurred.

Pauline flinched when she heard him talk, and then she noticed the state of his back, but she answered with a quiver in her tone. "We're going ghost hunting."

The flames on Dusknoir dissipated slightly, and in exchange, Houndoom blasted Charizard with a wide, stream of dark flames that emanated no heat. The flying type's body jittered from the painful flames, but she stayed afloat, each flap of her wings more and more determined than the last. Charizard swooped down and picked up Primeape in a split second while the rest of the Pokemon kept their enemies at bay. Both of them left a trail of dark fire behind them that Braixen gathered and threw at Dusknoir, who looked to be inexperienced with Protect, thank the Legendaries.

Dusknoir opened his mouth right before Charizard tackled him, and Primeape clenched his hands around the ghost's abdomen to keep it open. Dusknoir tried to slip away, but Primeape's hold was absolute, and the fighting type didn't seem to care that the fire was hurting him, or dampening his use of Type Energy like it had with Dusknoir. He looked at Dusknoir with a stare so calm it was almost psychotic.

He didn't need, Type Energy.

Just his arms and hands.

Charizard opened her mouth and blew fire inside of Dusknoir's mouth. Screams filled this hallowed cave, and Mars panicked, actually panicked. She fumbled around her burned belt and grabbed Dusknoir's Pokeball, but Ambipom threw Lycanroc into the sky, Metang pushed him down with a firm, psychic hold, and the rock type landed in Mars' midst. Ninetales' head was basically hanging by a thread, and the stream of fire she tried to throw at Lycanroc exited from the holes in her neck rather than her mouth. Mars sank into the dunes up to her neck, and the shredded stones around her solidified to keep her still.

Denzel couldn't believe his eyes.

Dusknoir was dying.

The ghost rippled at his edges, and he punched Primeape in the face with everything he had while Charizard brought him along for the ride, circling in the skies. The more Dusknoir hit her, the stronger she got. Pauline's mastery of Blaze was truly something to behold. The darkness made them difficult to deal with, and the support coming in from the rest of their Pokemon assured he wouldn't slip away like he had so many times in the past. Dusknoir's eye darted all around its socket, but it settled on Mars before the last of him could be burned away. The ghost screamed, and it was his actual voice, this time, not the countless spirits he had tormented for decades, and Ninetales' and Clefable's bodies went stiff. The fairy threw Lycanroc away by putting everything it had into shifting gravity. It had tried to before, but wind from Braviary and Lycanroc anchoring himself into the ground had worked to stave off the worst of it. Clefable could no longer keep Mars protected nor curve attacks away, and for that, Denzel saw her struggle for the first time.

Lycanroc went flying, and Metang barely caught him on their back.

Ninetales used flaming claws fervently against the ground, digging and digging at the stone until it melted. Digging so quickly Denzel could barely tell they were moving at all. So quickly and without a care for its own self that it shredded its own claws, paws and legs to break Mars away from her prison.

Despite everything, it was heart-wrenching to look at. Dusknoir yelled again, and Clefable lifted both itself and Mars away from the dune and toward where Wigglytuff had been taken by Vikavolt.

They'd left Ninetales for dead.

Only when Mars was safe, did Dusknoir allow itself to die.

Dead.

It was dead. Gone in an anticlimactic puff of smoke, and then even that disappeared, too. It was difficult to fathom how the ghost that had given them so much trouble was just gone, or at least would be for the rest of this entire ordeal, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Denzel allowed himself to relax for a single instant.

"Chase, are you still with us?" Mira yelled. "Chase!"

He answered with a small groan. His body was— his body was so cold. Lucario could barely even bear to look.

"No…" Mira cried.

Emilia shut her eyes tight.

Denzel grunted, "Mira. Mira, you have to get a hold of yourself." He coughed and tried to sit upright, but he failed. "You can will the mountain into doing anything. You can bring him back to the entrance if you focus."

"I can?"

"You can! Mount Coronet considers you a part of itself, it's how we got here in the first place. Hell, it's how you got here!" Denzel explained. "Just… shit, I— I don't know it works, just think about— about it really hard?"

Chase huffed air as loud as he could to voice his protest, but they all ignored him. He was probably thinking that they should go and hunt for Mars instead, or that Mira might clumsily send herself back with them when she might succeed in freeing Uxie if she kept going. He could almost make out the name 'Cecilia' on his lips, which angered him even in his dazed state. If he thought they were going to try to bring him to her so she could claim his shard, he was being fucking dumb.

That wasn't who any of them were.

Pauline gnawed on a fingernail. "Stop being a fucking baby! It's not just about you! Denzel can barely speak, and he can't even stand up! His back is more flesh than skin!"

He felt a jolt of pain with her words.

"Don't fight her on this," Emi sighed. "Please."

"I'll try," Mira said. "Recall your Pokemon."

The cave flashed red as they followed her instructions while she closed her eyes, and her breaths grew heavier and heavier until the mountain around them shifted. Once, then twice, then countless other times until they were somewhere Denzel recognized as the first layer. He wondered if going down was so much easier than going up because they'd been there before, or just because the mountain would facilitate that movement, but whatever the reason was, he'd never been this thankful. The adrenaline was fading off, and his back felt like it had been flayed a thousand times.

There was light at the end of the tunnel. Literally. Emilia helped him walk by letting him put a hand around her shoulder, and Pauline and Mira carried Chase by the arms, making sure not to move him much, or the bleeding was going to get worse.

Even if Chase lived.

Would he ever fully recover?

He felt sick to his stomach.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, yesnomaybeso, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Nova, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, Vic, Nihilea, endgame13
 
Last edited:
Chapter 310 - Ascend, Children of Coronet II
CHAPTER 310 - ASCEND, CHILDREN OF CORONET II

Paras scuttled ahead of us with agility I hadn't expected. She could navigate these caves like the back of her hand, jumping over crevasses or crawling onto walls when they were too large to leap over, all while keeping to the corners and shadows. In normal circumstances, she would be hiding from predators even when Brood-Mother was inside of her very being to help. Paras never stopped even once, not even when we reached the edge of her mom's territory and we got back to the lake's shores, where the tremors were more pronounced. The water was agitated here, sloshing around like it was the ocean. No longer having to breathe spore-filled air was a relief, though. While I trusted Brood-Mother now, there was no denying that breathing around her territory had been an awful experience and fresh air coursing through my lungs again did wonders. Sunshine seemed to think the same, with the way he drew upon heavy breaths, greedily sucking onto as much air he could while Jellicent looked at him like he was insane and Claydol simply observed.

They wouldn't get it. They had no lungs and no need to breathe.

Paras screeched at us— and enthusiastically snapped a pincer to get us not to dawdle for too long. She probably wanted to get back to Parasect as soon as possible. It was difficult not to smile at the little bug mimicking her mother's body language. An hour ago, without added context, this would have been a horror to witness. I no doubt would have thought Brood-Mother had control of her body and was using her like a puppeteer.

She could do that, but she hadn't, because she cared for her children.

Paras kept away from the water, and the tremors seemed not to affect her speed whatsoever. The cold was bothering her a little bit, however. I could tell, not through her words, but through the way she moved now that she was away from the relative warmth of her mother's spores and her hundreds of brothers and sisters. Once in a while, she would shiver, racking the grey sections of her shell together into an unpleasant grind, and she walked closer to the ground, almost scraping it with her stomach by tucking in her legs. Sometimes I'd ask her to walk closer to Turtonator so she could feel warmer, but she always refused while emanating sentiments of worthiness, like she shouldn't have to rely on others, but only her own self. Hers was a simple mind and difficult to understand fully, but compared to Mimi's, it was like reading an open book, so I'd practiced quite enough.

The cavern around us seemed to shift less and less the further in we went, as if a perimeter around ourselves had been rendered immune to Coronet's mourning. Along the way, we came across a few Pokemon in need of aid, too. Nothing too extravagant. I'd used a bit of the potions supplied on me on a Lotad who'd wounded by a falling rock in the water. There was a Rolycoly who had gotten splashed by water and was too weak to even move and needed Buddy's help to extract the liquid from the inside of her body. Sunshine's help was needed as well to warm the rock type back up. The small flame he surrounded her with supercharged her with enough energy to go faster than she ever had, and she thanked us before zooming away on her wheel-like stomach.

"You know," I said as I turned toward Sunshine, "once upon a time, I'd wanted one of those."

He looked at me in an almost-offended manner, and I snorted.

"I was looking for a fire type, and they live in Coronet, so… yeah." A snap of Paras' claw told us that it was time to go again, and we started walking. Though she wanted to hurry— and I wanted to hurry as well— helping the people of the mountain was what I'd sworn to do. What I wanted to do. "I might have caught one of them had I not heard about you. I'm happy I did, though."

He bashfully looked away and grumbled under his breath. Thank you for saving me and not giving up on me, he'd said.

I patted him on the arm. "You're a grouch, but you're our grouch. Isn't that right?"

Jellicent heartily agreed, and Cassianus launched into one of their rambles about the pros and cons of being a grouch, which we were content to allow, both to fill in the dead air and because it amused Sunshine to no end, but it was also because it took my mind off things.

I was strangely more worried for my friends than about the end of the world, if that made any sense. Life without them, for all intents and purposes, would be akin to that fate anyway. To keep going, being among the last of them, or the last, was unthinkable for me. It made every inch of my skin itch, and the worst part of it was that I would have no one to direct my ire toward, if Team Galactic was to be defeated. No one to exact revenge upon.

I would be emptied. Gouged out. Meaning itself would be lost to me.

My throat tightened, and I kept going with a renewed spring in my step. We walked around the lake for around thirty minutes before I saw the washed-up body of an ACE Trainer, easily recognizable thanks to their orange uniform under their torn-up mountain gear. He wasn't anyone I knew, and I felt a little ashamed at the sigh of relief out of my mouth when I realized that. The body itself was in good condition, if a little pale and bloated, meaning he had probably drowned after that attack from Gyarados and all of the other Pokemon who had retaliated once they'd struck at her.

"It was give and take, always give and take, and you simply took too much," I whispered at the corpse. "You figured yourselves kings of this place when we aren't even close to that." I closed his eyes, which were still half-opened. "I should have been better. I'm sorry."

I dragged the body away from shore so it wouldn't be taken away by the water, just in case the League went on an operation to retrieve corpses after this was all over. It'd be good if there was a body left to bury.

Why apologize? Cass asked privately asked. I worry that—

"I won't be like after Lou." I made my way to the beach again under Paras' irritated stare. To her, this man had been an intruder, so helping him was a waste of time, especially when he was dead. I could almost imagine her saying that his nutrients would return to the soil and give life back to those who needed it, but she couldn't quite articulate that. "I'm okay. It's just that had everything gone better these past few months, this could have been avoided. I guess I have to reap what I sowed too." There were… two Pokeballs to be found here, though I knew from when I'd seen this man earlier he had six. Had they been lost in the water?

Either way, I lay them next to his arm.

"It might seem a little tone-deaf, considering I'm alive and they're dead but these deaths are heavy, I guess," I finished.

I will try to understand, Cass hummed.

"Thanks."

Finally, we left the lake's shores and began a climb upriver instead toward a series of cliffs that I used Princess to navigate. I would recall my Pokemon, carry Paras in my arms and have her guide us. Ordinarily, she would have been able to climb those on her own, but it would have been a lot slower—

"Princess! Princess, down!" I yelled.

We'd been lucky we were flying slow. I caught a flash of pink in the corner of my eye thanks to how bright the area she was standing on was, full of glowing moss and a few glowing Volbeat led by an Illumise. Maylene was swinging her arms wildly with a look that could only be described as sheer distress. It was only a Geodude facing her— no, not even facing her. Slowly edging away from her, and yet she was yelling at him like he was about to attack.

"Stay back!" the girl yelled, her voice propelled further than it ever should have been. "Don't force me to crush you, you shitty piece of sentient rock!"

"Get down." The words were immediate and swift. "Don't startle her."

The fairy type answered by saying that was a little difficult, at the moment, but she swooped down low enough for Maylene to hear me should I yell. Instead, the Gym Leader's palm burst forward in the sky, and a blast of aura exploded toward us before dissipating halfway through. Now, Maylene was an aura-user, but she was also a human, and these days they were only strong enough to stand up to the weaker Pokemon like that Geodude had been. The rock type had already scrambled away, using his hands to speed away from who he had perceived as a threat as soon as she grew distracted.

"Maylene! It's us! It's Grace!" I called out.

It was difficult to tell from here, but I swore her shoulders relaxed a smidge.

"Grace…?"

"Can we land, or not?!" I asked. "I just want to help, yeah?"

While her attacks would only mildly hurt Princess, she could snap me and Paras like twigs should she want to. Maylene nodded, her fists clenching at her side, and Princess landed amidst the glowing Volbeats who had apparently decided to ride out the storm like Brood-Mother and her children had. As soon as Princess' feet touched the ground, I was off her back. I swung my legs above her and landed in the soft moss. I almost slipped and fell because of the earthquake, but I managed to catch myself on Togekiss' wing. How had I found Maylene amidst this chaos?

"What—" No, not what happened. That would be stupid to ask, given that she landed in the water like everyone else. I approached slowly, and she said nothing, instead looking away. "Are you okay— do you want to…"

Damn it. I was bad at this with people I didn't know. She'd been crying, that much was evident. Her eyes were red and there'd been a quiver in her throat when she'd yelled at that Geodude. Her gear was wet, and she looked like her teeth constantly chattered. She'd seemingly lost her bag, too, so all of her supplies were gone.

"My Pokemon," Maylene cried. "They— I lost them when I landed in the water."

My heart dropped to my stomach. "They drowned?"

Maylene paled. "No!" Her voice boomed slightly, making me and Paras behind me flinch. The bug type scuttled behind Princess and squealed while she reassured her with a pat of her wing. "I swam to shore as fast as I could… I didn't want to freeze to death, so I just swam. I swam, but…" she choked up, and her eyes drifted to her belt. "I didn't realize I'd lost them."

I restrained the coming relieved sigh at the idea that they weren't dead and the Pokeballs had only unclipped. The fact that she hadn't frozen to death despite still being soaked in cold water was crazy to me. "They were in their balls, though, right? They'll be okay," I said, trying to reassure her. We were only a foot away from each other now, but I was still uncertain about if she would lash out or not.

"How can you know that?" she asked— demanded of me.

She had a way of talking that was very menacing. Like she could crush me in an instant. I'd grown used to seeing this in Pokemon, but not in people themselves, and the last time I'd seen Maylene like this was when I had tormented her myself. I knew she wasn't going to do anything, but I couldn't help being on edge.

But to answer her question, the truth was, I couldn't know that. I believed it, but I couldn't know.

"Pokeballs are basically magic," I said. "They'll be okay. When this is all over and Coronet feels better, they'll send people to retrieve your team."

She hesitated for a few seconds before giving me a half-convinced nod. "Can we go back? You have a Jellicent, you could—"

"It wouldn't work. I don't want him to get too far away from me, or we run the risk of getting separated. I'm sorry. That lake is way too big and too deep."

Maylene shut her eyes tight. "I figured. I just wanted to try."

"I'm sorry."

She clicked her tongue. "Stop it. I already told you to stop apologizing all the time." She took a deep, calming breath and finally, I felt safe around her. She leaned to the side and looked at the scared Paras, who was eyeing her from behind Princess. "Did you— did you catch that?"

I turned toward the two Pokemon. "Paras? No, no, she's guiding us toward the next layer. We were almost there before we ran into you, but she has her own life to get back to and stuff."

Had she wanted to come with me, I would have said yes. In a way, it would have meant that she'd always have a piece of Brood-Mother with her, which made for some interesting questions, but it wasn't meant to be and even though I understood Paras and Parasect as a species now, that did not mean I was equipped to handle them in any way shape or form. I could try, I knew I could, but the consequences of failure and the grief that would follow would be far too large for me to handle. If Brood-Mother had failed after centuries of attempts, as had many scientists in the field, I doubted I would ever come close to reaching symbiosis between the spores and Paras herself.

"So… she knows where to go?" Maylene wiped the remaining tears off her eyes and cheeks and sniffled.

"She does! Her mother told me she was great at navigating the area, and she is."

"Her mother— you know what, okay." She worked her jaw and crossed her arms. "Fine, then. Let's get moving."

"Huh?"

"I'm coming with you," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I have no idea how the hell you found me, but I'm not letting you out of my sight again."

"Maylene, you don't have your—" I stopped, not wanting to phrase this in a rude way.

"Without your Pokemon, it'll be dangerous."

Maylene wordlessly stomped a foot on the ground, cracking the stone below her until it dented and crumbled into a hole from which fissures spread out and reached me.

"Point taken," I whispered, turning toward my bag next to Princess. "But at one point, you'll need oxygen and I don't have enough for two people—"

"Then I'll turn back when it gets hard to breathe," Maylene said. "And trust me, I can take more than you'd think."

After that display of strength, I believed her. It was one thing to hear about aura-users and how they could affect the world around them, but another entirely to see it happen. I'd heard about Maylene having been able to take out grown men at her Gym at seven years old, and she routinely sparred with Pokemon, but those were only rumors and stories, with how private her father had been when raising her. Then again, I'd found out these past few months that stories were more important than I'd ever given them credit for.

"Okay."

"Good, because I wasn't going to take no for an answer. Let's get on your bird already so we can get to the summit."

Princess scoffed at being called a bird, a noise that was almost human, but always not quite. At least she hadn't called Maylene any names.

"What?" Maylene huffed. "I call Cynth's Togekiss a bird and he doesn't mind."

At the mention of Cynthia's Togekiss, Princess lost all of her hardiness and her wings flattened at her side, exposing Paras who opted to climb on top of her already.

"She's only seen him once, but she has a bit of a crush on him," I explained, ignoring her protests. "She's still a kid, though, but you know, she can't help it no matter what I tell her— sorry, I'm rambling and we need to get going. Should we dry you up before we leave, or…?"

"No. I'll live."

"If you say so."

Maylene climbed on top of Princess behind me and decided that she would carry my bag instead of having Togekiss levitate it. If I had to guess, she wanted to feel useful, but honestly having found her was a weight off my shoulders. I'd been prepared for the worst and thought she might be dead after finding that ACE's dead body. As soon as we cleared the cliffs, we reached a grand, glowing waterfall with…

Bodies. They were the bodies of Team Galactic and their Pokemon.

I'd seen my fair share of death, but Maylene hadn't, and I could quite literally feel her squirm behind me because of how uncomfortable she was, and she kept muttering about how she was going to hurl and calling Arceus' name. Admittedly, these were in quite a bad condition. Crushed to a pulp and burned, mostly, though some had been cut apart at the fringes. Normally I would have asked for Princess to stop to investigate, but that wasn't going to end well.

I kept silent about the pleasure collected from seeing them dead.

Eventually, though, we had to land again so Paras could situate herself, and after twenty more minutes of trekking through the edge of the huge cavern, where few of the glowing moss or algae grew, we reached the way up. A gaping, silent void that only allowed the sound of the wind through. A jagged mouth full of sharpness, teeth upon teeth that never ended. I pinched my nose and blew as hard as I could to get the pressure out of my ears, but it just kept coming back. This was… stronger than it had been on the first floor, or maybe I was just imagining things. Paras chittered behind us as I recalled Princess, and I crouched next to her.

"Thank you for the help, little one." I offered her my finger, which she grabbed with a pincer. I knew she didn't understand the concept of a handshake, but the bit of pain I felt made the goodbye meaningful. I would never see her again, would I? "Are you sure you'll be alright for the way back? If you want, you can come with us until the mountain's settled. I'll take you back to your mother after."

The bug type denied me instantly, which I'd expected.

"I figured. I was just giving you the choice. Stay safe, then."

I waved to little Paras as she scuttled away as fast as she could, but before she could scamper behind a rock, she turned back, and tendrils of fungus writhed out of the cracks in her shell, and the mushrooms on her back glowed a little from their usual dim grey.

Brood-Mother was saying goodbye too.

I laughed, and Paras finally left.

"I'm not even going to ask," Maylene sighed. "Legendaries, you're odd. No offense, I mean, I knew that already. Guess having a God in your head will do that to you."

"What do you mean?"

Maylene tightened her hold on my backpack, and we eyed the 'stairway' together.

"I mean that the first thing you did when getting to Veilstone was give the Rangers a whole lot of trouble and make my day a million times more stressful, and that you were always weird even if we ignore the history between us. Anyway, Claydol should be enough, no?" she asked.

"Cass and Princess, I think. Better safe than sorry." I let them both out of their Pokeballs again and explained that they'd have to generate a shield above us in case something collapsed. "Ready?"

She answered with a silent nod, and we began our trek upward into the dark. There was a wordless worry between us, that something would go awry and we would get separated, but like the first path of the sort, there was nothing we could do to avoid that problem. One thing intrigued me as I let out a tired huff and kept climbing, however. Coronet was alive and responded to what I asked of it, to a reasonable extent. That meant that it must have sensed I was worried about Maylene enough for our paths to meet, which was well and good, but did that mean I could engineer a way to rendezvous with someone else? Cece, Denzel and the others?

That most likely depends on how feasible the ask is, I answered myself after a beat. Different layers were probably a no-no, and interacting with other shards stuck in their own tales might be tough. Denzel, Emilia and Pauline could still be an option, though, if they were also on the third floor.

Then again, it was a fool's errand to try and trick the force on which the world functioned. A story was always to a certain extent engineered, but it lost all of its charm and power if it could be exploited. If one could poke holes into it and tilt the scales in their favor instead of letting it play out. I wished I'd asked Bellatrix more about how they worked, though. Their structures, their shapes, the way the world thrusted people in and out of them…

"We're here."

I blinked. Maylene's words had almost flown over my head.

The third layer was breathtaking. It was beautiful in a way one didn't expect a cave to be, with crystals littering the walls of the wide tunnels here. Unlike below, this wasn't just one wide chasm where all life could congregate, nor series of tightened tunnels where anything but the most powerful of flashlights would see their lights swallowed by the darkness. The crystals bounced off so much light that rainbows formed everywhere my eyes settled for too long. They were so clear that our reflections were visible within, like staring at two mirrors opposed each other leading to endless copies.

Legendaries, it was cold. The layers I was wearing weren't doing much, and I almost felt compelled to release Sunshine again for warmth, but I wouldn't until we made sure that this area in general was safe and I could retire one of my barrier users.

"Woah," Maylene gasped. "This is like one of those hallways of mirrors or whatever they're called. They had one in Hearthome for a little bit. Fantina helped set it up a few years back."

That was a little out of nowhere and took me off-balance. I searched for a way to answer for a few seconds.

"How old were you?"

"Like, eight. My father brought me since it was during the summer and it was kind of the first time I interacted with kids my age. To be honest I didn't really have friends outside of my Pokemon until Nia and Candice took over their Gyms. Anyway, uh, it didn't go that well." Maylene's story ended in a murmur, barely audible.

"Oh. What happened?"

"Yeah, it was a horror attraction run by Fantina, right, with a bunch of ghosts and all, and she's always had a love for the theatrical. My Dad told me to go in alone and make some friends, and I got spooked by some asshole Shuppet in the plushie of a barely-held-together Bidoof. So, uh, I might have freaked and exploded like twenty mirrors on accident."

"Shit. How many people were…" I stopped.

Her face was contorted in guilt. "A lot of other kids and their parents were injured because of me, so… yeah, not the best holiday. It caused a lot of problems for my Dad, too."

We took a few tentative steps forward, and I let my foot settle on the crystalized floor. It crunched under the soles of my boots. Once we proved that the ground was stable to walk on, we continued without a direction in mind. There wasn't going to be much to do without a Pokemon to guide us. Princess and Cassianus whispered behind us about whatever came to mind. Currently, Togekiss was gossipping about Brood-Mother's old trainer and wondering what someone with three Paras had been doing in the middle of Mount Coronet that long ago.

"He didn't blame you, did he?"

"Oh, no, he was proud of me. I hated that part of him, you know. Or I guess I still hate that about him, among other things." She hunched forward, almost like she was making herself smaller. Like she hated admitting that. "But I'd never used aura that strongly before then, which I guess kind of makes sense, given that it's linked to your emotional state. Training is just training, you know? There's this fakeness about it no matter how much it hurts or my muscles strain."

"Meanwhile, if you think a ghost is about to kill you…" I guessed.

"I thought that Shuppet was going to eat my soul and turn me into a plushie," she said with a slight smile. Not a laugh, though, not when her Pokemon were missing. "But yeah, it was terrifying, and it showed my Dad how much potential I actually had. He'd ramble all day about how I could surpass him, and how I was a prodigy because aura was supposed to grow less, not more, from generation to generation."

"Aren't you? A prodigy both in this aura stuff, martial arts and battling?"

She looked at me and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Doesn't feel like anything, you know? It's been told to me so many times now that it just washes off my back." She waved her hands wildly and quickly added, "And I don't mean to brag, or anything! It's just how it feels."

"I didn't think you were bragging."

"It's hard to tell. You always make that same face," Maylene said.

"What face?"

"It ranges from emotionless to the point of being disturbing to you looking like you want to kill something," she simply said. "Though I guess you were smiling when you were with that Paras. And you smiled when you were having dinner."

"That's because my friends and their Pokemon were over. And because Cece was there. We were pretending to—"

Actually, it'd be weird to say that out loud when she already thought I was strange. Arceus knew how'd she'd react to us pretending the world wasn't ending.

I cleared my throat. "Anyway, I can smile. I'm a cheerful person."

Maylene laughed. "Okay."

"I am!" My tone was a little more defensive than I'd like. "I— you just haven't seen enough of me to tell!"

"I'm sorry, I've seen cheerful. I literally hang out with Gardenia and Candice on the regular… man, I hope they're okay."

Knowing how Coronet was acting, I doubted they'd ever make it to where we were, let alone to the top, unless they had a shard's help.

"They'll be fine," I tried to reassure her.

We kept chatting a little about her childhood, the way she struggled to meet her father's expectations as soon as he saw how much potential she truly had, after her scare in Hearthome. She vented about how she knew the only reason she hadn't gotten in trouble was because she'd been a Gym Leader's kid, and how frustrating that was to her, but soon enough, we reached a wall.

Like everything else, it was full of crystals, and there was no path around or above it. It was difficult to describe or understand, even, but there was a feeling of wrongness here. Like a subtle, almost invisible flaw. Maybe it was how perfect everything looked like someone had literally grabbed and arranged the crystals to look as beautiful as possible, or the way we'd seen zero Pokemon here so far, but…

I glanced at Princess and Cass. "Guess we can try Ancient Power." I touched one of the crystals, and my head felt like it exploded into a million pieces. My hands clutched at my forehead, and Maylene grabbed me by the arm to keep me from falling while Princess cried out in worry.

"What the hell was that?!"

I coughed. "I don't know. Just don't touch the crystals— what are you doing, I said not to touch—"

She tapped her finger on the glowing rocks a few times. "Huh. Nothing happens to me. Must be one of those shard things."

Legendaries, my head hurt. It was slowly fading away, but it reminded me of the first time I'd trained with telepathy with Cece's Slowking on the road to Solaceon.

My eyes widened. In fact, it was the exact same feeling.

"Maylene, do you think rocks can talk using psychic powers?" I asked.

She let go of me and sighed. "What are you talking about now?"

"This feels like the mountain trying to talk to me, but it doesn't know how. Like my mind is too fragile to—"

My heart sank.

I had the protection of Mesprit's full gift in my brain, and it still hurt that much.

"Yeah, my mind is too fragile to handle it." The words were hard to force through my clenched throat. I took a step away from the walls. "I won't be able to touch any of these with my bare skin, I think."

"Better find a spot clear of them when we have to sleep, then. Makes you wonder what those rocks are made of," Maylene pondered.

I asked Togekiss and Claydol to create a path through the wall, which they got started on immediately. Cass put a barrier around me so I wouldn't accidentally touch one of the stones again. The tunnel was wide enough for us to comfortably pass through, though it hurt my eyes a little to be in such a tight space with so many reflections. Eventually, though, we finally found what we were looking for.

Wildlife.

I'd seen only one Carbink in Coronet before, but there were too many of them here to count, all chock-full of gems that the ones I'd seen before— both in my Gym Battle against Roark, and in the first floor of Mount Coronet— simply didn't match. They were all huddled together, hovering right under the ceiling, not for warmth, but for reassurance, and the way they shone almost had them too bright to look at for too long. It made sunspots in my eyes. A lone Beartic cried out for her cubs, anxiously looking left and right to see if she could find them, but to no avail. Once in a while, she would make herself tall to get a good view of the surroundings. She had a face that looked threatening at first glance, and that had Maylene step in front of me when she noticed the ice type, but I knew better. Pokemon I had never seen before— blue and crystal-like with bright yellow eyes— camouflaged among the crystals in hundreds. I might not have been able to tell, had I not been using empathy. Even with their bright eyes

So I did something I hadn't done in a while. I pulled out my Pokedex from the endless supplies in the backpack Maylene was carrying for me and scanned them from as far as I could.

Glimmet, the ore Pokemon. Few facts are known about this Pokemon. It absorbs nutrients from cave walls while camouflaged to hide away from predators. The petals it wears are made of crystallized poison. Should it be provoked, it will often dash away and spew poison in the air as a defense mechanism like an Inkay.

Type: Rock, Poison


They were pretty. Like flowers. They looked similar to Glimmora, but I knew that Pokemon was Paldean, originally. How had they gotten here?

So many tales left unsaid.

"What now?" Maylene asked.

"Now, we help."



It began slowly.

There were a lot of Pokemon here. This was a living, breathing ecosystem, after all, and stumbling upon a trove of knowledge like Brood-Mother in my first attempt again would be far too easy, story or not. We started with Beartic who had lost her children, slowly following her until we found an opening to show ourselves. Maylene hadn't understood. Yes, Beartic was strong, but my Pokemon were most likely strong enough to protect ourselves through a barrier while we tried to communicate.

"That'd be a mistake," I had told her in a whisper. "We can't sneak up on a mourning, scared Pokemon, or she won't listen to us no matter what we say."

"I mean I know that, I'm not stupid," she'd said. "I just thought that since you were special…"

"I have a set of abilities, not magic that makes everything like me."

"Okay, well it's hard to tell sometimes," she grumbled.

Though technically, it could be what I'd described it as. I'd ignored the wanting frisson that spread through me then and kept tracking Beartic, ignoring the Pokemon around us. They were too scared or distracted by their own lives to care for us beyond staring.

Had she been in a normal state of mind, Beartic might have most likely smelled us trying to approach, and had the mountain not constantly been shaking, then perhaps she would have heard us, but the world would have it that an opportune moment would present itself to introduce ourselves to Beartic when she found herself to be taking a break. With a frosty sigh whose chill I felt from our hiding spot behind a formation of crystals, we watched the ice type wrap her massive paw around one of those reflective rocks. She brought it up to her mouth, and water slowly dripped into the open maw.

My eyes narrowed. "What…?"

Were those crystals ice?

Either way, we circled around Beartic to get to where she could see us before approaching her. She was a towering, hulking beast with fur thick and bristling, radiating an icy chill that sent cold pooling around my bones. Knowing that Princess would look menacing, I had recalled her, leaving only Claydol with me, and I had them put down their barrier even with the cold. The trust wasn't there yet, and this could, as Maylene had told me, be stupid and get me killed, but I'd found that trust had to be given, before being received in turn. In the Lost Tower, I had come to Mathilda armed to the teeth with my Pokemon ready for a fight, and she had figured me out instantly. What could have been rather diplomatic had turned into a battle right then and there, even if I hadn't figured it out quite yet.

A lesson was not a lesson, nor was a fight that close to resulting in my demise worth it, if nothing was learned from the experience.

So yes, Beartic could have frozen me to death. In fact, she was mulling it over. I could see it in her eyes.

I placed a hand over my chest. "I don't know how many, but you have children you're looking for. I can help you."

And so, it began.

The three Cubchoo were found by having Princess fly overhead above us and scanning the area. Her eyesight was nowhere as good as Talonflame's, but it was still enough to find them within twenty minutes. They'd been hiding out in a small crevice in a wall, where the largest of them had been keeping guard to protect the other two. Had this been another day, another moment in time, then perhaps they would have died to a starving Pokemon. Or maybe the cave would have collapsed in on them like it had on the Paras, had we been a few minutes late, but today wasn't that day. Beartic did not know where the exit was, however. She did not frequent the edges of the cave, which according to her were difficult to get to.

"That makes sense," I'd answered. "We had to make a hole through a wall to get to here. This place… it's like it gets denser and denser the closer to the center, isn't it? There's something there, creating these crystals, and you sustain yourselves off of them."

Beartic had eyed me with a glint in her eyes and called me smart, then.

With her children on her shoulders and arms, she pointed us in the right direction and told us to seek out a friendly Cryogonal. While we followed her, I asked her about the rocks in the cave.

Beartic laughed, flashing her teeth. It was a deep, guttural rumble reminiscent of rolling thunder in the background when I would go to sleep under my covers in Jubilife. She answered that these were not rocks, but ice, as I suspected. A lot of the Pokemon here used them to drink, should they need to, but they couldn't take too many at a time or it made them hear and see things. Like a dream they could never understand. That dream is Coronet, she'd told me with a fond smile. It was as much a lesson to me as to her children. The mountain could communicate, but it was too clumsy. Too… impersonal about it, even when it had a prophet to talk through.

She did quickly warn me that the Pokemon creating this ice was not one of her kin, however. Not an ice type.

Once in a while, Beartic would give her cubs to Cryogonal, if she had to make a long trek to hunt. Cryogonal was known here as someone every ice type could trust if they were ever in need of help, and they were old. Beartic talked about how they'd saved her life when she'd been a Cubchoo from a Lairon desperate for food, when she'd been separated from her mother for reasons she didn't want to get into. Cryogonal's constantly rotating geometric form seemed almost ethereal, with the way it glowed. It was almost as if they were a part of the environment. I could see the resemblance, now. Candice's own Cryogonal I had battled had been made of blue ice, but this one was completely clear, like a mirror that refracted and reflected light. That also meant that they were difficult to look at.

But Beartic had warned me that there was a sinister side to Cryogonal. Ice types were their allies in truth, but with others, they were incredibly aggressive and wouldn't hesitate to strike first. What had led Cryogonal to this behavior? What had their life looked like— how had it formed, lived, what experiences had shaped their very being? Were they being pushed by a story, just one not as obvious as Brood-Mother's, or did they live independently of them? The questions burned on my tongue, but it would be rude to ask. How would I feel, if an uppity stranger suddenly asked me about the possibly sensitive subjects in my own life?

There was a cold pulse of blue light that forced us to cover our eyes, when Cryogonal first spoke. They seemed displeased at my presence, but I could tell they had seen humans before, as had Beartic, somehow. Beartic vouched for us, and as soon as she said we helped her find her cubs, Cryogonal was far more amenable to giving us aid in finding the exit. First, however, there was a conversation to be had between the two of them that they seemed content to have me listen in to while I waited.

Maylene rubbed the smallest Cubchoo's fluffy forehead with her two hands, and the ice type let out a pleasant sniffle. "What're they talking about?" she asked with a smile. "Strategizing to find the way up?"

"No…" I frowned. Cryogonal was a little tough to get, but I could fill in the blanks thanks to Beartic. "They're talking about feeling more powerful. About how working with ice is getting easier and easier despite the 'Jeweled One's' influence—" My words died in my throat when Cryogonal shot me a look that had me hugging myself. "Sorry, I'll be quieter."

Maylene had almost shot up from her crouching position, ready to… punch Cryogonal to death? I doubt that would have worked. "Can we whisper, at least?"

"Yeah." I nodded. "Um, they're talking about some kind of deity. The Hoarfrost? They're different than the Jeweled One. More important by a ton."

My companion's eyes narrowed. "Think that's the Regice thing Maxwell told us about?"

"Hmhm. I think you're right."

The Legend's presence was far more pronounced than it usually was, and as a result every ice type in the mountain was seeing a burst of power. Cryogonal told Beartic that this was like the incident 'four years ago'. That while this was the only one she could remember, Cryogonal had gone through eleven periods where their power grew the most powerful it would ever be. Four years ago… could mean anything outside of here, considering time was different in Coronet, but the general rule was that time in the mountain passed slower than out of it. Cryogonal's words came not as a warning, then, but to inform Beartic of the coming opportunity should they keep their heads cool. The old ice type did not seem to believe Coronet would actually die— as if that was antithetical to their entire being, and so, they would rather scheme and prepare to capture territory when the time came.

Capture it from who, that, Cryogonal did not say, but I was almost certain it was this Jeweled Pokemon they were talking about. Were they the prophet? After a bit, they were finally ready to lead us out of here. Maylene had gotten attached to the Cubchoo in the short time she'd seen them, and she was bummed out when she found out that Beartic wouldn't follow us. The ice type had already gone out of her usual lands and tunnels she frequented to get us here, so she couldn't go any further. This trek was a long one. At one point, we actually had to stop to make camp because we'd been walking for too long and I was exhausted. Hell, even Maylene was starting to tire. Cryogonal was content to let us sleep and said they would keep the cold away from us for the night, which was very welcome, given it had gotten worse throughout the day. The thermometer in my bag read -19 degrees Celsius outside their little bubble of warmth. Soon enough we'd reach the temperatures of Snowpoint in winter.

Cryogonal was a silent host. They rarely responded to any questions I would ask, and it was easy to tell the only reason they were helping was because they were content to bide their time and we'd helped one of their friends in need, so instead of annoying them further, I just thanked them for the help, unfolded my sleeping bag and prepared to go to sleep after eating a League MRE that tasted like cardboard. Beef stew, corn some trail mix and some cookies. Maylene's own bag had been lost, so she didn't have a sleeping bag to use and I had to share my supplies with her, which I was all too willing to do. For her to rest, I released Princess so she at least had something fluffy to rest on. I would have used Angel, but again, he needed to stay in his Pokeball until we met a threat from Team Galactic.

I was surprised we hadn't run into any of them yet beyond those corpses.



We reached the exit the next day. A literal exit leading out of the mountain, from which howling cold winds rushed past us and stabbed into my pores like a thousand needles. Cryogonal chimed, saying that should we follow this path, we would reach one of the ways to the fourth layer, and they left before we could even say goodbye. I did thank them, even with their back turned to us, and despite them ignoring me, I was happy we'd figured out another way to get through this.

Sunshine was out with me today, along with Cass, as usual. I was hoping to make it through multiple layers. There was a real chance that if we didn't reach the summit in time, we would all freeze to death if the League didn't manage to handle Regice. I had faith in them, however. They had their job, and I had mine.

At least Maylene's clothes were dry, now.

It was strange to see an area this banal again. There were no rainbows or countless lights here, just… it was normal. A natural platform perched on the rugged slopes of Mount Coronet, with trees and tall grass barely poking through the knee-deep layer of snow. Small shrubs and mosses clung to the nooks and crannies of the rock face, making the most of the moisture that condensed from the clouds hanging low over the mountain. Visibility here was awful. It reminded me of the Land of Fog between Solaceon and Celestic, yet it was simply this way because Coronet was so tall, even at the third layer. The air here felt a little thin. Each breath simply held less, and almost became a deliberate act to supply myself with enough oxygen to function. The fourth layer would be fourth out of seven, and I would need to start wearing my oxygen mask soon already.

"Do you think time here passes normally?!" Maylene yelled. She had to, with how strong the wind was, but then Cass wrapped a barrier around us. "Oh. Right, you can just do that."

"Just for now, and just sound," I warned the psychic. "No need to exhaust yourself when it isn't needed."

"Acknowledged, even if it displeases me."

"We can hide behind Sunshine if we need to," I said. "Anyway, I think so, right? The entire area around the mountain's affected, which is why you can't just fly to the summit."

Maylene covered her eyes and looked up in the sky, searching for the sun's general area, after which she pointed at it. "We could use the sun's position to calculate how much time is passing, or something."

I frowned at her. "Like, a sundial?"

"Yeah!" She beamed. "Do you know how to do that?"

"I thought you'd know how to do it."

"What? Why even—"

"Because you brought it up!" I groaned. "Anyway, I don't think it'd be that useful. I'm pretty sure the sun is just going to be stuck in that same position in the sky the entire time we're outside."

"You'd best give it a try anyway, Cass. To see if there are any variables in the way time passes because of how agitated the mountain is," Maylene said.

"In truth, I would like to. I am… quite bored," Claydol said. They followed up with a sound effect that mimicked a sigh from their catalog of sounds. "It will give me something to pass the time."

"Fine, don't let me get in the way of your fun."

My steps were careful, occasionally stumbling over stones and roots hidden among the snow. Only a few inches of it would melt, even with Sunshine here, and I didn't know whether it was because that was what had been set in stone— the way this place was meant to be— or because of Regice growing more active due to Coronet's mental state. Still, we trudged through the upward slope, slowly gaining in altitude. It was actually only barely snowing, and occasionally I'd see a flying type perched on one of the trees. Not many species made this high up Coronet their home, but there were groups of Starly and Staravia huddled together on branches for warmth. There was a cry far above us that I recognized as Braviary thanks to knowing Pauline's, although this one was higher-pitched. A Noctowl stared at us as we passed below the tree she had seemingly claimed for herself, and she carried a nasty, fresh scar right above her right eye.

"Can't they just fly away?" Maylene asked through the strong winds. "They're in a better position than most!"

I nodded. "Some did, I bet, but we arrived too late to see them leave! It's like, if someone told you and everyone in Veilstone to abandon your homes and everything you held dear, there'd be a portion of you who remained, no?"

"Huh. Makes sense!"


The land-based Pokemon were nowhere to be seen, which possibly meant most of them had retreated into the caves or were hiding too. The scarred Noctowl followed us through our trek, never leading, but always stalking us. Early on, I'd tried to communicate, even disturbing Cass from their calculations to try to speak into her mind, but she seemed uninterested in what any of us had to say. It was curiosity, that had her following, not the need to help, but she seemed to know I was different. Shard. The next time Cass spoke up, it was to tell us that time was seemingly standing still outside of this place.

An hour in, and with many breaks, we reached the end of the overhang and the side of a cliff with a section barren of any snow despite all logic pointing to the fact that the contrary should have been the state of things. Everywhere else was covered in snow and ice, but this was different. Maylene placed a hand on one of the rocks and gave it a tug before swearing.

"It's cold as fuck," she moaned, blowing hot air on her hand. "It peeled some skin away."

"Stop touching everything, we don't have to climb it, we literally have Princess with us. I'll get the first-aid kit from my bag."

"I just like rock climbing…" she turned away from me and I unzipped the backpack.

Grabbing things was easier said than done. Closing my fingers around objects was growing increasingly difficult, even with Sunshine here to warm us up. I released Princess so she could scout above the cliff. She returned when I was putting band-aids on Maylene's fingers and palms and said that there looked to be a chasm similar to the one that had led us up. She couldn't really tell

"Don't get too close to the edge," I warned Turtonator.

He'd been trying to see the world from up here and had his eyes in a perpetual squint. His goal had been— or was to climb Mount Wela and to reign over it on his own. To kill the current ruler, who most likely had the wind of a story behind their sails. Of course, when he talked about it, he'd tell me that he would do it long after I died, after which he would threaten that he'd kill me if I died of anything other than old age, as a gentleman usually did. Anyway, I supposed he was internally cursing the weather for obscuring his view so he couldn't bask and pretend he ruled over everything the light touched.

"There." I closed the first-aid kit and turned Maylene so I could put it back in the bag. "After the whole ordeal with the mind-bending rock, you'd think you wouldn't touch—"

"I get it, I get it! Give me a break and let's get on your Togekiss, Arceus."

"I'm just saying that this is an eldritch, living being we're climbing, so it'd do you well to respect it, aura or not. I know you're used to being, like, basically invincible to what would hurt a lot of other people." Togekiss approached us, and I let Sunshine and Cass back in their balls temporarily. "Arceus, it's— cold."

So cold I could barely even speak, and Maylene was feeling it too. Were Brood-Mother and her children fine? I hoped them being one layer lower was buying them time, at the very least.

"I—I wanted to s—say that if I'd touched the rock, I pr—probably would have ripped my entire palm away, since I'm no—normal. Even if it hurts you le—less, it's stupid to risk it."

Her lips flattened. Aura flowered around her skin, probably keeping her warm. "I hear you."

Then, snow erupted so high that nearly covered the both of us. Noctowl had landed right next to Maylene, and her aura flared to life. Her coat whipped around due to the excess energy, and a blue light coated her skin.

"What do you even want?!"

"Relax." I held out a hand toward Noctowl. "I think she wa—wants to tell us something."

The normal type tilted her head abnormally far to the left, and she hooted once, twice, thrice.

Beware. Beware. Beware.

"She's warning us about what awaits us above—ve," I slowly translated. "Is that the Po—Pokemon who hurt your face? Are they aggressive?"

The owl's feathers puffed up until she doubled in size, and she let out a resonating giggle that was crystal clear through the screaming winds. The sentiment was clear. If the Pokemon she was warning us about had attacked her, she would be dead, and this entire overhang might have collapsed as well.

I gulped. "But can y—you answer my question? Are they aggressive?"

Noctowl blinked, as if she couldn't understand the meaning of my question.

"Will they attack us? What Pokemon is it?"

She answered with a simple, long tone.

Old.

There was a way certain people had to weave words in a manner that conveyed multiple meanings. Old could have meant a multitude of things, but there was a certain weight to the word. There was old, akin to Bellatrix, Brood-Mother, or Buddy, Mathilda or Ruth, but there was old, as in truly ancient. One who had lived through many eras, who had seen eons pass them by, and who were still here to tell the tale. The gravity afforded by Noctowl told me this was the old she was talking about. She followed by saying to watch our words and left in a hurry before we could ask anything else, nearly sweeping me off my feet with a gust of wind.

The flight up the cliff was silent, as was the climb up the chasm. I'd put my mask on, covering my face, and I was breathing from oxygen tanks strapped to my back. The way up felt longer than before, and the pressure in my ears was giving me a headache, but eventually.

Eventually, we made it and found ourselves in a cavern that seemed to stretch on forever, its size almost too much to take in at once. What caught my attention first were these massive stone spires shooting up from the ground. They were everywhere, towering over me like skyscrapers. Each one looked different— some were smooth, probably worn down over time, while others had sharp edges that made them seem almost dangerous. The light in there was rather dim, barely enough to see by. It gave the whole place an eerie feel, especially with the way shadows moved when the light hit the spires just right. Unlike below, there was no apparent source of light. No crystals or glowing moss. It was just there when it shouldn't be, and I knew the light from outside was nowhere near enough to light up this entire cave and barely made it through the 'stairwell' anyway. The ground was uneven, cluttered with smaller rocks that had broken off the bigger ones. There were also pools of water scattered around, reflecting the spires and making the place look even stranger—

"Gah!" Maylene screamed next to me. Instantly, a barrier went up in front of us, glowing for an instant before disappearing. Only Princess and Claydol were with us, but hopefully it'd be enough for whatever was coming— I quickly moved my mask so I could see better where Maylene was looking, and my hands went limp at my sides.

He was stone on top of stone, disorderly, sharp, and most of all, large. His body was a fortress, towering at at least ten or eleven feet tall, with layers of hardened rock that told a story of survival through age upon age. The spikes that adorned his back seemed like the jagged peaks of mountains, and the boulder at the tip of his tail looked capable of shattering steel in a single blow.

He was Rhypherior.

The moment Rhyperior's eyes settled on me, I knew nothing I could do would change what he had in store for me. I could struggle, maybe my Pokemon would tickle him a bit, cause him to shed away a few of the stones that seemed to perpetually grow on his body, but I would be crushed in an instant, barrier included. He looked at us like we were bugs, with cold, unfeeling eyes that had me sweating and feeling somewhat warm even through the frigid temperatures.

There was the possibility that this was a different Rhyperior. Barry's father had caught his own in Coronet, after all, so I was certain there were at least a few, but I knew better.

Even if the wounds of that battle had now been overgrown with new rocks, I just knew.

I just knew.

Rhyperior eyed me down, saying that if I was going to kill him, I'd better get the attempt over with right now so he could crush me instead of wasting his time. I frowned and realized I'd been glaring at him with my hands over my Pokeballs. Maylene had been more scared than aggressive. She knew that we were dead if we provoked Rhyperior in any way, shape or form. That would have been the case even if we had her Pokemon with us. His drill-like horn looked duller than it should have been and had been chipped away year after year.

Why did you kill my Pokemon's mother?

What led to the fight in the first place?

If you're all the way up here, what were you even doing on the first layer back then?


I said nothing.

Rhyperior moved, and stones ground together like the shifting of tectonic plates. So deafeningly loud, so imposing that I could barely stand to be next to him.

I had heard you were coming, speck, he told me. Follow.

Sweetheart's Pokeball felt heavy on my waist.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, yesnomaybeso, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, Vic, endgame13
 
Last edited:
Chapter 311 - The Tyrant of Coronet
CHAPTER 311 - THE TYRANT OF CORONET

There came a time when a Pokemon was so powerful that even I, a girl who couldn't help but constantly create scenarios in her head about how to potentially fight back in case she was attacked, just gave up. I'd reached an understanding that none of it even mattered. No ideas came up in my mind— it was just blank. An empty acceptance that if Rhyperior decided Maylene and I were dead, we would be so, and it was so, terribly chilling. A cold fear that I could feel through the frigid temperatures that had me hugging myself for warmth as we traveled through the spire-filled cavern that seemingly stretched onto eternity.

Each step the titan took ground stone against stone on his back and joints, and shook the earth further than it already was. It made it difficult to follow him and keep my steps steady, but whenever I almost slipped, Maylene or my Pokemon were here to keep me standing. Claydol and Sunshine were at our side, and Maylene couldn't stop stealing glances at me and at Rhyperior's back. I'd recalled Princess and swapped the dragon in to combat the cold, and even he knew not to provoke Rhyperior. Swallowing, I closed my eyes and focused. The mountain was dying, so I was certain— no, not certain, but I figured the rock type wouldn't attack us. Still, I wanted to make sure there was no ill will toward us to see how to best approach this.

When I opened my eyes, Rhyperior was dull and emptied. Gouged of everything that had once added up to make him and leaving only wisps of what had once been. It came as no surprise that he thought so little of us that he had not even directed anything our way. No anger, killing intent, or general enmity, but instead a sprinkling of annoyance and impatience that I would have missed had I not concentrated. This Rhyperior— he wasn't like Justin. His emotions hadn't been put under a limiter that could be broken.

He just felt less, which I supposed might be normal after living for so long, given that he had witnessed more than I could fathom. I was only wondering how in the world this momentous day was barely even moving the needle. I shot Maylene a look, offered her a tight nod, and her shoulders loosened a little bit. We were all too shaken to speak, too scared to induce a reaction out of Rhyperior. All that was audible in between the shaking of the earth was the soft, drawn-out hiss out of the oxygen mask every time I took a breath.

It took a bit for me to gather my courage—

"Where are you taking us?" Maylene asked.

Rhyperior's head turned her way, and he eyed us behind him before stopping suddenly. We also did, not wanting to get hit by the swaying of his surprisingly nimble tail. I'd wanted to grab her arm and shake her, but it was too late. It was best to act like we knew what we were doing.

"Is it to the next layer?" she continued, though I didn't miss the trembling in her voice on the back half of that sentence, nor the tiny beat of hesitation. "You know why we're here, right? I mean, I hope so." She patted me on the back a little too strongly for my taste. "My friend Grace needs to get to the summit. She can fix this. All of this."

Friend. She was throwing that word around all too easily after what I'd done to her, but it might have been easier to sell to Rhyperior.

Rhyperior answered with a short grunt that reverberated deep in my lungs and chest. This time, he called her speck and told her that he was already doing this. He commanded us not to speak again and continued on his way. Maylene sighed in relief next to me when I translated it for it, but I couldn't help but wrap my hand around Sweetheart's Pokeball and clench my teeth until my jaw hurt. It appeared like Rhyperior didn't remember me, or maybe he hadn't even seen me back then, having been too focused on killing that Tyranitar. Now that I had the experience to accurately gauge the rock type's strength, it was easy to deduce that Sweetheart's mother had been terrifyingly strong.

She had wounded Rhyperior, after all, even if she'd lost, in the end. She had opened up a fissure deep enough to lead us to a lower level of the mountain and closed it up above us.

Part of me, one Maylene would call rational, wanted to let it go. The fate of world was on the line, after all, and Rhyperior wanted nothing more but to lead us to the next floor to take us closer to Spear Pillar. Even if I released Sweetheart here and it came to a fight, she would just lose and we risked getting killed. No… maybe I would be safe, but… my eyes wandered toward Maylene. She always walked slightly ahead of me so she could take an attack or push me behind her should one come and Claydol couldn't react. Did he have any reason to keep her alive?

I'd gone through multiple changes of heart regarding Sweetheart's mother. At first, between Solaceon and Hearthome where she'd first told me about wanting revenge, I had pushed back against it. Then I'd gotten lost in the pleasure violence and torment could bring after getting my first taste of it against Harry Rodriguez, and while I had not explicitly told her she would one day kill the one who had taken her mother away from her, I'd grown more open to the idea even knowing we most likely wouldn't be ready until the end of the year.

Now?

Well, it wasn't sunshine, roses and forgiveness. I had eschewed violence, grown to become a better person and learned to give people second chances because I had gotten one. It was not like we had any chance, anyway, but if I got out of this layer without a semblance of answers for my daughter, then I did not think I would ever forgive myself, nor would she forgive me.

But not now. Not so suddenly, or I risked angering Rhyperior more than we could handle.

We passed by a colony of blue Shellos and Gastrodon who eyed us suspiciously. Most of all, however, they eyed Rhyperior with something that could only mean fear. The young ones retreated into the small puddles of water which were barely deep enough to cover them or slid behind one of the many pillars stretching high into the sky. The adults were all smaller than I remembered their species being and made themselves larger. Colors undulated on their backs, which must have been a threat display, and the water from their puddles began to foam at the surface and whip around, cracking the stone near them. It wasn't just Rhyperior, even if he was by far and beyond the strongest wild Pokemon I'd ever seen. The Pokemon here were powerful, especially the ones who had stayed behind.

The water was starting to freeze at the edges of the ponds. We'd walked along frozen ones before, but they were probably keeping this one in a liquid state.

I had it. The cold!

"Rhyperior, may I speak?" The weight of who knew how many years settled on me when he looked my way again. "It's about the temperature." Given that he kept going, circling around a stone spire the size of my apartment building, I continued. "There's a plan afoot, but if it keeps going down this fast, it's possible we won't be able to make it. We might freeze to death even with my Turtonator here. The cold already seeps past his heat and Claydol can't contain it with barriers because—"

Rhyperior growled, which was a rattled deep within his throat, saying that he could do nothing to help us with the cold.

"Oh, I know that. Do you know about the Hoarfrost?" I asked.

The rock type's eyes narrowed, and the urge to crush me underfoot passed as quick as it had come. I saw it quite literally flash in his heart, brighter than anything I'd seen from him, along with the effort to smother it like candlelight between two fingers. I wiped the build-up of cold sweat on my palms on my climbing gear and listened.

Regice apparently had many names throughout Coronet, but ice types revered it as Hoarfrost for the beautiful crystals it left on everything it froze. Something in between frost and ice, the kind of crystals you'd see hanging off trees when the temperature and humidity were just right. Rhyperior told us he'd seen the effects of its waking many, many times, though he had never seen Regice himself. He didn't say it, but I figured the power disparity was just too much for him to take that risk, given that he seemed to speak of the Legend with nothing but disdain.

But at least he was talking. I had a foot in the door.

Most Rhyhorn and Rhydon I'd seen were quite… well, not smart, but Rhyperior was quite well-spoken, if a bit blunt and rough around the edges. I didn't know if that was an effect of the evolution or how long he'd been living.

"So you—" I stopped and bit my lip, waiting to see if he'd react. He did not. "So the Hoarfrost— Regice— has woken up before, and the League came to stop it?" We reached a small gulf in the ground, a ravine at least twenty feet long from which more pillars grew, but Rhyperior just waved an arm and reshaped the stone into a bridge in an instant. It was something Princess would have been able to do, but with none of the finesse. Just chunks of stones he crushed at a distance until they fit together like the pieces of a puzzle while telling us that occasionally, before the League or most humans dared to step foot in the depths of Coronet, Pokemon would either band together and lay Regice to rest, or let it run its course until it returned back to its slumber.

We all walked in a file, ignoring the sound of the rushing water below. All of these puddles and tiny lakes had to come from somewhere. I could tell Maylene was feeling left out, but the conversation couldn't die now.

"If I may ask, does that mean you traveled between layers to escape from the cold?"

First, silence.

Then, Rhyperior slammed a fist against a pillar of stone and collapsed it next to us with a roar that was so loud it hurt. Dust, grit and shards of rocks billowed out in a cloud of death and Cass barely got our shield up in time, covering both me and Maylene. Flames surged out of Sunshine's snout, but another stone went flying through the thickened dust and slammed into his chest. He rolled off the cliff, but his Pokeball snapped up and recalled him. I hadn't known when I'd grabbed it, but it was already back on my belt by the time I realized what I'd been doing.

Maylene stood in-between Rhyperior and I, but it didn't matter.

Insolence, speck, Rhyperior growled from within the dust. He sounded more like a dragon than not.

"If I offended you, I'm sorry—"

There was a gust of wind, and the dust condensed into stones that clattered to the ground around Rhyperior. He had just taken down a pillar the size of a skyscraper, but did not even look a little bit winded. In fact, it was the opposite. Emotions flared around him like a bonfire.

I recommend releasing the rest of the Court immediately, Cassianus said with a hint of panic. We can possibly buy time for you to run, and repositioning us with Pokeballs might spare all of our lives.

"Agreed!"
Maylene yelled.

"If we wanted us dead, we'd be dead," I whispered. There was little fear in me, or maybe I'd just masked it successfully. I believed deep in my heart that he did not want us dead, but there was also a calm settling within my veins that was difficult to explain. Straightening my back, I spoke again, "I'm sorry for the question. May we keep going?"

Maylene hissed and clenched my wrist. "Are you insane?"

Rhyperior squinted.

Then he nodded and walked past us.

"Can you tell me what the hell is going on?" Maylene asked, slightly angry. She let go of my wrist, not wanting to hurt me while she clenched it.

I would also like to know. It isn't like you to keep us in the dark, Cass muttered.

"Rhydon are very temperamental," I whispered. "I've seen many in the wild and trained a decent bit with Lauren's, so I figured their evolution was the similar. Or maybe worse."

Given how his emotions usually were, a flare-up would end up having consequences that were much worse. Bad enough, and he might not realize he had killed us until it was too late.

Ideally, we would have gotten another guide. Many Hoothoot and other flying types made their homes in the spires, which was where that Noctowl must have come from, and there were Pokemon everywhere, even if they were fewer in number now that most of them had had time to run away and evacuate.

They were all too scared of Rhyperior to approach, and I doubted the ground type would accept it anyway.

We kept going, and I found it wise not to release Sunshine again. It'd be best to let him cool off for a while so he didn't let his nerves get the better of him. Warmth from him still lingered in the air thanks to Claydol's diligence.

In a way, I found this odd. Everywhere else, Pokemon were either working together or ignoring each other. A sort of truce while Coronet was at risk. Rhyperior seemed to be eyed with the same ire and fear he would be in normal circumstances, even now.

It seemed a little lonely, but this reputation had been built far before now, and I couldn't forget nor forgive what he'd done.

After ten minutes or so, Rhyperior spoke up again.

He asked about my Larvitar.

My stomach twisted itself into knots, and it took all of my willpower to keep a straight face. Maylene just frowned, confused, but she stayed quiet. Even if she had understood, she hadn't known that it was this particular Rhyperior who had gotten us stuck in Coronet— hell, I didn't even know if she knew it was a Rhyperior at all. Back then, Gym Leaders hadn't read everything there was to know about us, and that side of the mountain was under Gardenia's purview.

Not as sharp-tongued as before, are you, speck? the rock type asked with a deep, grinding laugh.

I clenched a fist. "S—so you remember."

Damn it, the cold was getting to me again.

A veil of regret passed over Rhyperior— and at first, I thought it was at the thought of killing my daughter's mother, but that would have been too human of him. He was a Pokemon. A Pokemon who was thousands of years old, or possibly more. No, he allowed the sadness to take hold of him and grunted that memories were not where he was the strongest, yet he remembered this one. One always forgot, after too long. Faces. Names. Locations. Things he enjoyed.

Not fighting, though. Never fighting. That was who he was.

There was something else he remembered, though he did not remember the exact date. He allowed a beat to pass as we began to walk downhill, where the spires were bent almost like rubber despite the fact that they were still stone. Some bent down and reached the ground again, forming large arches. I remember, Rhyperior said. I remember the last time Coronet nearly perished like it was yesterday, he finished with an uncomfortable shift in his arms.

"Whu—" the words were wrong, but I couldn't speak right. Noctowl had been correct.

Rhyperior had been a Rhydon, then, but he had served as a guide all the same. He had been running away from Coronet, and so he was the first Pokemon our ancestors had come across in the layer below this one. Seeing them had… triggered something in him. Hope, maybe? He didn't say either way, and I wasn't going to ask, but he had opted to guide them after Atreus, my predecessor, had graciously asked with a revering bow.

They'd had to beat him to earn that, and even back then, he had been strong. Stronger than all of them put together by a wide margin, according to him. Yet he had not gone far enough to truly injure them, and so they had been allowed to beat him. The way he recalled the events was interesting. Rhyperior did not boast, nor did he embellish. He simply laid out the facts in as few words as he could.

"People back in the day had weaker Pokemon because they didn't have potions or Ditto cells to really push their training as far as we do now," Maylene whispered in my ear. After recovering from the shock of his reveal, I'd been relaying everything Rhyperior was saying to her through chattering teeth. "Training came with a real risk if they pushed too hard, and they also had fewer Pokemon in general."

My only reply was a nod, because my thoughts were somewhere else.

"They we—were all together?" I asked Rhyperior. "Weren't their—"

Hadn't their stories been different? Three winding paths, leading up to the summit by the end?

Rhyperior shrugged, his plated stone grinding against his neck. There were words of our ascendence passing through the mountain, one he had apparently beaten out of an Onix that routinely traveled between the third and fourth layers. I allowed the displeasure to pass, though my throat tightened enough to make it difficult to breathe. He noted that it was different, this time, in many ways. That we were after hundreds of people, an organized force, rather than a single man taken by madness and a dream. Mesprit had told me about Cynthia's ancestor, though I knew little of him and could only pass the information along to her. She hadn't reacted beyond widening her eyes a smidge and thanking me.

All of that to say, Rhyperior figured he knew how I, or specifically, the shard of emotion worked. For the first time, he called me a manipulative trickster instead of speck, and said that if I'd wanted to ask about his battle with Tyranitar, I should have just come out and said it. It was not the question that had offended him, for I now understood he was not a creature who let pride get the better of him, but he wanted people to actually say what they wanted instead of playing a game of smoke and mirrors.

The ground was unsteady beneath my feet at the end of his sentence, but at least we knew why he'd freaked out. What had Atreus done to him in the little time they'd been together? How long was that, even? A day at most? My throat felt dry and cold, and I was desperate to find an excuse— a reason for his actions.

"Have you seen anyone come through this way yet?" I asked. "Another shard?"

Rhyperior shook his head, saying that he would have known if one had. He had made this layer his turf for the last few months, though he'd been planning on going up to the sixth before this entire ordeal began.

"And you won't test me by fighting?"

Rhyperior shook his head, saying that there would be no point. Those words surprised me, but wouldn't any person change, after thousands of years? He might have found a test of strength necessary in the past, but no longer.

But that was not why I'd started this conversation. I wanted to give Sweetheart closure.

"I'll just come out and say it, then." I wrung my hands tightly through my gloves in an effort to warm them up. "I caught Lar—Larvitar, and she's now a Tyranitar. Why did you kill her mo—mother."

Because she infringed upon my territory, the answer came. Cold. Unfeeling. Like a bucket of ice water had been dropped on my head.

There had been no grand reasons, no angle for forgiveness. It had just been a territorial dispute where Sweetheart's mother had climbed down the mountain to get to a safer place while she grew up.

How dare he take so much away from her for nothing?

How dare he?


It took everything I had not to curse him out. The rage that followed was tempered, partly thanks to Cass' warnings, but had Rhyperior been beatable, I feared what I would have done. Would I have thrown everything to the wind and just attacked? The fact that I didn't know didn't bode well.

Let it out, Rhyperior said with his face turned my way. It was unmoving and expressionless.

I bit down on my lip until I tasted metal. Don't let his provocation get to you.

Maylene frowned. "Grace? What's wrong?"

"Couldn't you just have let them pass without chasing them to the first layer?" I was quiet, at first, but my voice was deliberate enough not to shake from the cold. "She was running away from you. You could have let her go. She had a kid right in front of you, and you still did it. I don't care how old, or how strong you are, that's fucked and you deserve to feel fucking lonely because everything in here fears you," I loudly spat. "What even is your territory? You wander the entire damn mountain without a single care for who you hurt. Pokemon fear you everywhere!"

I expected another outburst.

He kept walking instead. His answer, as smooth as polished stone, was that he had not come to lead us to debate, but to get us to the summit instead. He was glad I was being straight with him anyway, because tricks of the mind were what he despised the most. To him, talking, talking, and talking always had a layer of subterfuge hidden beneath unless it came from the heart.

"I cannot leave this place without giving my daughter her closure."

He asked what that closure was, exactly.

"A good look at you," I said. "And you'll let her."

And why is that, speck?

"Because I'm not leaving this place as long as she isn't ready to leave." I smiled, all teeth and wide enough to hurt my cheeks. "I'll hold your home hostage if I have to. I've gone the furthest, have I not? I'll let the Hoarfrost freeze you and all of us to death while my Pokemon are safe in their balls. I'll let the world end if that comes to pass and you're too tough to freeze."

Maylene scoffed.

She thought I was bluffing. That I wasn't going to throw it all away for this, because it made no sense. I was not, and I would.

Rhyperior stopped, turned and loomed over me.

I was either a being forged by conviction, or I was no one at all, and Rhyperior let respect show within him for the first time.

I hated that.



"You weren't kidding?"

We were huddled next to Turtonator who had graciously blessed us with his heat again and I greedily downed half of the water that remained in my canteen before passing the rest to Maylene. She hovered it above her mouth and finished the remaining liquid. We'd run out of water a while ago, and while she could resist a lot, Maylene ate and drank more than the average person, meaning we'd had to refill the canteen and boil water to make sure it was safe to drink. It still tasted a little earthy, but it would do. Rhyperior had been willing to allow us a break even if he looked exasperated. I quickly put my oxygen mask back on and took a deep breath.

There was a curious phenomenon happening above us. It was raining while in a cave. Of course, I knew rain was just the condensation of clouds into liquid, but seeing it happen in a closed environment was a little trippy. The rain might be why all these spires were eroded some while others— newer ones— were smooth to the touch, like the one we were leaning against, at the moment. Seeing the droplets drip down Claydol's barrier and hearing the patter was soothing

"No. I know you'll be mad, but you're free to leave if you want." My gloves slipped off my bandaged hands, and I actually touched my face for the first time in hours. "Another layer up and even you'll struggle with the oxygen anyway. I'm sure you'll find your way down quickly once you're separated from me."

She crossed her legs and her eye twitched. "First of all, are you crazy—"

"I am perfectly sane."

"No, because you're throwing the entire world in fucking jeopardy!" she yelled. "Can't this wait? Can't you just wait?"

"I'm sorry, but I cannot."

"And it feels like you just want me out of your hair. You keep trying to get me to leave, and it—" she chewed on her words for a few seconds, then groaned and shoved my canteen back in my arms. "You're an awful friend!"

I placed the canteen back in my bag and patted the last of the dust clinging to my pants and stomach. "He's not listening in, you can just drop it." I touched the spot where the stone had hit Sunshine and blew a raspberry. It was dented, but Rhyperior had clearly held back, or the stone would probably be lodged inside of him right now. "Do you think we'll have to use a potion on that?"

Turtonator shook his head, though I didn't miss the glare he shot the rock type.

"What is wrong with you?"

I eyed Maylene. "What? The potion? He—"

"You're fucking stupid for an empath," she told me. "Do you think I'd just… fake that? Fake calling you a friend after spending two days in this hell hole?"

"I don't look at people's emotions if I can help it—"

"Then be smarter about it," she interrupted. "See, I think your plan sucks, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and hope it works because everything you've done has worked so far and your Tyranitar deserves to know what's going on. A week ago, I would have been screaming at you and calling you names."

I avoided her piercing gaze. It was easier, with the mask. "I hurt you really badly, Maylene."

"Yeah. So if you want to 'atone' so badly, do what I say and stop having your little pity party, okay?" She offered me a hand. "We're friends, got it?"

I flimsily shook it. "Got it."

"Come on. Put more grip into it."

"I can't, or it'll hurt." I nudged my chin at my bandages. "It's better, but it's still healing."

"Oh. Right, sorry, I… yeah, sorry. I was making a shitty joke." She rubbed the back of her head. "So how are you going to get your Tyranitar closure?"

"Oh, no matter what I do, I won't be able to stop her from attacking at first sight, but that might be what she needs. To throw herself against an impenetrable wall and she sees how strong she'll need to be. How strong her mother was to fight back for so long."

Arceus, it'd be nice if I could just throw Rhyperior at whatever came to get me, but no matter how powerful one was, they'd have to listen to what Coronet was telling them.

She nodded. "How long?"

"Hours, according to the few times Sweetie talked to me about it. Her mom didn't let her get hurt once, but since she had to protect someone, she was on the backfoot the entire time, and since she was weaker to begin with…"

"Ah."

It would have been difficult to fight back against a foe such as Rhyperior. It wasn't as easy to place his story as it had been the others, but then again, maybe there was no solid structure there. Knowing this would have made pushing and prodding at weaknesses easier, but the facts I had to work with was that he was thousands of years old, possibly older, and that he had spent his entire life fighting for survival. What is a fighter's biggest weakness that isn't a bigger stick? Conversation and understanding were out. There was no way I was ever changing the ways of a being that old, either, and an apology would ring empty…

A fight after all, then?

Ideas ruminated in my mind until it was time to walk again.



It took another four hours to reach the chasm leading to the next layer. Longer than Rhyperior had expected.

This one was loud, howling like a hurricane with winds so strong we could barely approach it without being swept off our feet. It was wider, sharper, angrier, too. The endless yell of a dying creature far too large and godly for us to ever hope to comprehend. The cold had gotten worse, much worse. I was confident I would freeze to death within ten minutes without Sunshine here with me, and I constantly had to keep my body moving so I didn't go numb everywhere. Maylene was terrified, and how couldn't she be? Regice was completely out of our control, and we didn't even know where it was. Our fate was in different hands and there was nothing we could do about it.

"Thank you for leading us here so quickly," I said, bowing my head slightly. "I'm sure it would have been much slower without a guide of your caliber. Yet," A beat passed, and a loud hiss from my mask somehow resonated through the strong winds, "something remains, as we discussed."

It was easy to speak through the cold when there was a fire burning within my heart.

An assumption had been made by Rhyperior through no fault of my own.

No, that was a lie. I had… not engineered this. I was not good enough of a manipulator for that, but I had allowed it to happen. Rhyperior believed that we had something in store to stop Regice. Possibly, that could be freeing one of the Lake Guardians from their chains and allowing them to seal the Hoarfrost again and saving Coronet in one fell swoop. Either way, since he had never seen or fought Regice himself, there was a brittle spot I'd found in his endless plates of stone. He was a fighter, yes, but not one who sought glory before all else. Not one who lusted for battle to strive to get further.

He hadn't denied running away each time Regice had been allowed to run rampant. He'd run away the first time Coronet had been dying despite being so strong already.

He was not one to seek meteoric rise, but an individual who had picked his battles until he was so strong no one would be able to stop him anymore. And why not? He had the long-lived lifespan of most rock types on his side. And so, Rhyperior was an ancient tree who had slowly spread his roots deep within the earth, his bark had grown so strong and his branches reached so tall that nothing but the sharpest of axes could hope to cut him down and kill him permanently. It was the slow build up of thousands of years, each step meticulous until he no longer had to care.

Rhyperior was scared to die. More scared than I was. How long had it been, since he had been in actual danger? He was also outcast. It was lonely, at the top. He had no one to tell him about the intricacies of Regice or how the Legend even behaved— not that I knew either. I just didn't need to.

I'd been wrong. Once, he might have been a cautious fighter, but now he was more of a tyrant.

"Like the shards before me, I will release my daughter and allow her to set her eyes on you and you will test her," I said. "You will not hurt her more than necessary. You are allowed to defend yourself, but should you wound her beyond what is appropriate, I will recall her and the rest of my Pokemon and sit here until I am frozen. I trust that you understand and know your limits, given what you did to my Turtonator before. I apologize for that again, by the way."

Sunshine did not protest, despite how unpleased he was at the thought of me dying. He knew this was a ploy despite the fact that I meant it, and scolding me could wait until we were out of this blasted mountain. We'd briefly discussed it earlier when it had grown too cold to travel without him. Claydol hovered silently, their arms close to their body.

Rhyperior grunted and said that I could just will the mountain to have me leave.

Could I?

It was best to act like I did know. "Yes, but I'd want to see the look in your eye as what you fear the most happens to you. I'll die first, and maybe Regice will be stopped, or maybe you'll just run away, but I'll see it, still, because eventually the world ends. You've seen how this is. How far behind we are, and how we aren't united under one story— one goal. Things are going worse this time around, and you know it."

The rock type's eye twitched, and rage pooled inside of them, ready to be unleashed. It was not. The thought of death kept him calm, as I'd wanted it to. There'd been a nonchalance to my word he couldn't fathom, yet he knew was true because it was as blunt as he'd wanted it to be.

"Call me petty," I huffed. "But it is what it is. There are no redeeming qualities to you. No reasons I have found for you to have made yourself into a being so ruthless that even now, Pokemon everywhere fear for their lives around you. Maybe I'm lacking context, but you are not owed my cooperation and you need me more than I do you."

He was not Zoroark, nor was he Mathilda. He was something else entirely, and he had murdered for less than nothing.

That had been obscuring the truth, however. I did still seek to figure him out, not for forgiveness, but to understand.

"Are we clear?"

He nodded, but wasn't happy about it. The fear of him was still there, but the desire to get my daughter what she deserved and needed was stronger.

"Thank you. I mean it. A few minutes, and we'll be on our way."

"I hope you know what you're doing," Maylene whispered.

"First, I'll have to talk to her. Cass, raise a wall, please."

They molded a wall of earth between our group and Rhyperior, and I released Sweetheart next to us. She eyed her surroundings until she was distracted by me and let out an affectionate growl. I raised a hand, and she lowered her head to allow herself to get petted on the cheek while spouting about how cool my mask made me look.

"I missed you. We've been doing well," I said with a saddened smile hidden behind my mask. "How are you feeling? Still not hungry, I hope?"

The dark type shook her head, and her tail swayed, grinding against the stones of the cave. She answered no, but she did complain about how cold it was before her eyes widened and she demanded Sunshine to create more heat.

"Yes, yes, it's cold, but he's doing his best," I answered for him. "It has a way of ignoring heat— or smothering it, I don't know which is more likely, but Sweetie, we have to talk. This is important, and I want to apologize for only telling you this now." I paused and took a step back. "Your… your mother's killer is here."

She stared blankly at me.

"Rhyperior. He's here."

The wall went down, and the ground returned to its previous state. A stretch of rock going downhill until it reached the stairway up, and then upward, where Rhyperior had settled down. I figured he wouldn't try to just walk off, and he hadn't. Instead, he stood there, one of his hands pointed her way with a stone already loaded into the hole in his palm.

Sweetheart shut her eyes, and her breath quivered.

"Let it all out, if you want. You can hit him. He won't fight back and it won't hurt him, but it's all I can offer you right now and I made sure he was telling the truth," I said. "He's strong beyond our means, Sweetheart, but sometimes we lose. But," a pause, "you might get some answers."

She turned toward him, and grains of sand started to swirl around her. Why? she asked him again. Why did you kill my first mother?

Because I could,
he said.

The ground fissured beneath her feet.



Her first mother's killer stood before her.

Everything she had ever wanted, everything she had wished to turn herself into, every hour, minute, second she had trained was to see him dead, yet it was an eerie calm that settled over her as Sweetheart slammed a foot on the ground and attempted to collapse it beneath Rhyperior. She could sense it clear as day, now. The shifting of the earth beneath her, each tiny movement she could push and pull, prod until it formed into whatever she wanted, yet when the fissure reached halfway, she met a wall. The fissure wouldn't go further, no matter how much she screamed.

The calm snapped like a twig— a year's worth of restraint met the inevitable spark that was her mother's killer, and the earth itself yelled with her, a sound so deep and raw that it seemed to come from the world itself—

Until it stopped, and the only scream that remained was hers.

Rhyperior's influence spread far within Coronet. Her mom would say that he had a story behind him— something that helped him dominate all others and bring the ground to heel under his command, but she didn't care. She abandoned her plan to bury him under the weight of his sins and started running down the hill as Rhyperior shot out rock after rock at her. The first one, she flinched at. She couldn't help herself from picturing her first mother being hit by these stones and them going through her like she was nothing.

It didn't do the same to her, yet she felt it deep within her chest and she was actually knocked back. The stone hadn't shattered against her like it should have. It stayed intact and seemed to have so much force… nevertheless, she kept going. Something shifted within Sweetheart, and her vents opened. Grains of darkened sands began to surround her, and she became invisible. To her, color had disappeared and sounds were muffled, like she was the only person in the entire world.

He could still aim at her. Two, three, four stones, each larger and more painful than the last, each bending and curving to reach her within the sandstorm despite the fact that she should have been impossible to spot or hear.

She snarled and raised an arm. Jagged rocks burst from the ground, each as large as her, and she sent them barreling toward her sworn enemy. Immediately, she tried to rattle the ground beneath Rhyperior's feet to disturb him, but nothing worked. It stayed solid, and the Stone Edges turned to dust before they could make it to Rhyperior. Frustrated, the Sandstorm ended in a single moment, and Tyranitar posed a question.

Why did you do it?

Rhyperior looked at her, his face unshifting like the facade of a mountain. Tiny specks of stone from her own attack swirled around him. Because I could.

Liar!
she roared. More sand exploded out of her legs and she propelled herself to move faster. This time, the stone forming within Rhyperior's hand was truly massive. It coalesced faster than she could blink, forming from the ambient stone, dust, and shredded rocks he had pulled from the ground. Sweetheart gathered nothing, yet everything from her mouth and blasted the boulder mid-air with a Dark Pulse, allowing her to slam into Rhyperior at full force once it exploded.

He did not move. He towered over her and did not even budge. Her claws ripped into his shoulder, but she could only chip where she wanted to crush and dismantle. She blasted his face with more darkness and hurt him the most she ever had, yet it wasn't enough. She would need to fight him like this for a week to hope to actually beat him, and that was only if he did not fight back.

The answer couldn't be that unsatisfying. There had to be meaning to it, or…

Or it was all worthless.

She hit again and again.

Worthless.

She hit the same spot until her fist broke through his shoulder, and stone from the rest of his body instantly shifted to the wound.

Worthless.

Surrounding water burst through the thick sheet of ice, surged to their location and slammed behind Rhyperior's back. It crawled up his massive frame and clumsily, slowly, she tried to drown him like Budbud would do. Rhyperior slammed her away, and his arm arched toward her with a brilliant glow. She expected it to slam into her, but it didn't. Instead, he missed her by a smidge on purpose, but she still felt the force from the attack and she was knocked a few feet away.

Worthless.

She tried more. None of it was enough. She felt her family's eyes bear through her back. Sunsun, her mother, Cassie— watching her fail even more than she had ever expected. She had been warned. She knew she couldn't win, and yet she had hoped that maybe.

Just maybe.

So it was meaningless, then, Tyranitar asked with tired breaths. Worthless.

No,
he said. There was a purpose to it.

"If you mean the territory excuse, you can shove it." Sweetheart turned toward Grace, who was standing far away with her arms crossed. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking with that mask on. She didn't like it. "I fear that you've been telling half-truths without meaning to."

You accuse me of playing word games? Rhyperior threatened. I thought you of all people would know better.

For a moment, Sweetheart considered striking while he was distracted, but her mother raised an arm, and she settled despite the images of her tearing Rhyperior's neck open. Mom always told her to picture violence instead of actually committing it.

"I do not. There is a difference between not understanding what someone wants out of a fight and purposefully misleading them," she said. There was a moment of silence, only accompanied by the hiss of her mask. "I trust you're familiar with the concept of giving meaning to one's death?"

What good is meaning? When one is dead, one is dead. Gone and returned deep below Coronet, where they were first formed, Rhyperior countered. There is no difference between the kinds of death one might have. It is all the same.

"A fair outlook on life, even if I vehemently disagree," Grace said. "I know you don't care, but we don't all work like that. There is a difference when someone dies because of a coincidence, and not. I would know, and I strive to kill the ones responsible." Sweetheart imagined her face darkening behind her breathing mask. A thinly veiled threat of a horrifying death. "Here is what I believed happened, Rhyperior."

"Tyranitar does accidentally step into your territory while traveling down Coronet, because it is ever-shifting," she began, "and she also does try to escape at the sight of you, because you are the tyrant of this place. One who has slowly, carefully risen and who is now pulling the ladder up behind him."

Stop speaking in riddles, Rhyperior growled. Each word was accompanied by a shudder below ground.

"Ordinarily, I get the feeling that you would have allowed a Pokemon like her to run. Maybe chase her a little bit, but not to the first layer. When she started fighting back, however, you realized she was actually hurting you, and hurting you good." She adjusted her gloves and kept going. "Now, you can navigate Coronet rather well, but it's a big place, and who knew when you'd see her again? A year? Five? Ten? And who knew, if within that time frame, she would not start to pose an actual danger to your life you've taken such good care of?"

Rhyperior took a silent step forward. You really are just like him. You talk too much. Your ego is too big. That gets you killed.

Sweetheart blinked. Like who?

"Maybe." She shrugged. "I was willing to gamble it all for my daughter, and you knew I spoke the truth."

Unfortunately. Then, a beat. I could kill your companion.

Maylene did not react, and neither did Grace.

"Then I'll do everything in my power to end this place. She's a friend."

The ground type stood perfectly still.

"Tell her yourself, then," she said. "Please."

Fine. I killed your mother because she threatened to destroy the order of this mountain. I had seen her only once before, but she was growing too quickly.

"As a tyrant does, he kills anyone before they can become a threat to his order. He smothers them in their cribs before they can reach their true potential, he plucks them from the vine before they can ever hope to ripen, and he'll keep going as long as he lives" Grace said. "There you have it."

Pathetic, Sunsun growled. A small trail of fire coursed out of his snout.

One does not live as long as I have without precautions, Rhyperior deadpanned.

That isn't a life worth living at all, Sunsun said.

"Well, he's no dragon," she sighed. "Sweetie?"

She'd been thinking of one thing amidst the sadness of reliving her loss all over again and the relief from finally understanding why, now that she wasn't just a confused baby running for her life. She even ignored Rhyperior, noting the speed of her growth.

Her first mother had been the coolest Tyranitar to ever live.



It could have only gone one way.

Her breaths were ragged by the end of it. She had used everything in her arsenal, every trick and technique she had learned this past year, and nothing had worked. The dream she had of standing over Rhyperior's deceased body, of cracking him open like an egg, was just that. A dream. Sweetheart stood still, her body sagging with every breath, and Rhyperior simply stared, the cracks and chips in his armor already in the process of healing. There were no tears, nor was there an outburst at what she lacked. I slowly made my way toward her with Claydol reshaping and flattening the ground as I needed it to be.

"Do you see how strong your mother was?" My steps reverberated amidst the cave. Nearly all of the wildlife had left, not wanting to be involved in the fight, but some still remained. A single Gligar hanging from a spire of stone. A Shellos who had braved separating from her herd and had followed us all the way here. A group of Hoothoot with their faces barely visible in the dim lighting, standing at the side of the pillar. "And did you see the gap that still remains?"

Tyranitar growled as I stepped next to her and placed a hand on her back. There were no gaps in her armor— nowhere the stone had managed to penetrate. Rhyperior had been holding back, but it was still a mark of pride for her to still be standing so pristine.

"I'm sorry I couldn't figure out a better way. I had to find— the shape of it. This must be unsatisfying for you."

The rock type side-eyed me and allowed herself to sag. She sat on the ground and put a hand behind my back. I let myself be guided by her touch, and she placed me on top of her lap. Even with how gently she was handling me, it was difficult not to notice her sharp claws and her hold that could crush stone should she need to. Her body warmth bled through her stony skin.

The hug was silent, but silence could convey as much as a thousand words. It was many things. Grieving, an attempt to let go, a conveyance of love, gratefulness for telling her about this and trusting her to keep control, for allowing her to know the reason behind everything—

Rhyperior was leaving.

Part of me had considered he might have snapped and collapsed the ceiling on us, or buried us under who knew how much stone, but the risk had been worth it. Admittedly, I had hung bringing the world the ruin over his head for my daughter, so there wasn't much left to be said. We watched him waddle on away from the chasm and disappear behind a pillar, and our spectators who had come in hopes of seeing him humbled left as well. I had most likely disappointed them.

He would probably run off and try to leave Coronet now that he'd brought us here.

My legs nearly gave way from under me, and I allowed fear to seep into my being again. The next breath was shaky, as were my fingers, and goosebumps traveled up and down my arms.

"I can't believe you threatened that thing with the end of the world…" Maylene trailed off. Her voice was midway between angry and impressed. "And I can't believe it worked."

"He was nice about it," I muttered. "I think part of him wanted to see what I was made of."

The cold was getting to me again. If Craig, Aaron and Flint did not end Regice within the next twelve hours or so, we would freeze to death or be forced to try to leave as Rhyperior had hinted at, but a seed of doubt had been sprouting in my mind. At the core of my very being, what I craved was to come face to face with Saturn.

No. No, that was the wrong way to look at it. I had thrown Coronet under the bus to get Sweetheart closure. I had worked against its very existence and been selfish by threatening to allow it to die, and I had no Lake Guardians with me to smooth things over like Team Galactic did.

Would the mountain even let us leave? Would Pokemon be less inclined to cooperate?

I licked my lips. Nothing in this world ever came for free. This cost me. It might cost Maylene most of all... damn it.

One step forward, who knew how many steps back. The repercussions wouldn't be felt for a while yet, but either way, it was time to ascend.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, yesnomaybeso, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK
 
Chapter 312 - Ascend, Children of Coronet III
CHAPTER 312 - ASCEND, CHILDREN OF CORONET III

We were lost.

There was a difference between this kind of lost, and the previous one we'd experienced in the mountain. One was walking aimlessly in hopes of finding something with the mountain eventually nudging you in the right direction, and the other was having Coronet be utterly indifferent to your very existence. We were lucky it wasn't actively working to kick us out, but this felt exactly like it had the first time I'd fallen down Coronet's depths. We would walk for twenty minutes and end up in a spot we'd already seen. Flying on Princess' back was the same, and we couldn't do it for long anyway due to the cold hampering us.

It had gotten far, far worse. Me not being able to move my fingers was constant, now, and not just when enough warmth had slipped away from us when recalling Sunshine or Cassianus.

At least this layer was pretty to look at. I was continuously baffled at the sheer difference between each layer. This one was a reflection of the one below, where the spires of stone stretched past the boundaries between the two and extended at their peaks into large, flattened islands. They were too flat to look natural, even, and Maylene kept complaining about how the air around her felt uncomfortably humid. I'd looked at the depths at the edges of these stone 'islands' and saw nothing but a few thin clouds and a pitch blackness. Darkness as void-like as one of Sweetheart's attacks. There were a few shrubs lying about, but all of them grew off the surface— on the pillars themselves, and not the smoothened rock above. Each tower was a different height, too, but most of the ones at a similar level were linked by bridges of stone, which made navigating easy. We'd seen… hundreds of them, at least, and just like the last layer, the cavern was dimly lit with a light that made no sense, only it came from the chasm below instead of above us, this time. I figured the clouds down there were the cause of the rain and the accumulated puddles below.

We'd seen zero wild Pokemon here. There was a wrongness wracking the side of my head that had been growing the entire time we'd been here.

"Y—you should head back, May—Maylene. I don't think thi—s is a good idea." Each word, I struggled to force out of my mouth. It was as if I barely had any control over the muscles in my throat. "It's— you might make it— out."

"And then what?" she sighed. "Does it matter if I make it out and we die anyway… Arceus, I didn't think I could ever say that out loud." She wrung her hands together, clearly cold as well. "You fucked up massively, and I'll scream at you for it later and have a talk about fucking priorities. I didn't know Coronet would respond like it did, but something tells me that you did. You're the one who's been guiding us the entire time, after all."

"If there is a later. Sorry."

Maylene paused and her body froze. Her breath caught in her throat, and she made a choked sound, as if she was resigning to her fate. I wanted to tell her to keep believing, but this was my fault. I'd sold out everything for this, because the truth of the matter was that if everything was going to end, I wanted Sweetheart to be content, when it did. Just in case.

Legendaries, it was difficult not to regret it now that I could barely feel my skin. I wished I could have done more for Honey and his own parents, but Cynthia had told me they were looking into them…

"Uhuh. That's okay." She patted me on the back, or at least I thought so. It was difficult to tell when my entire body was numb, and I believed it was as much to reassure herself as to reassure me. "Do you want me to carry you? Are you still good to walk?"

"I think I'm good for the next few hours—"

I heard a sound— then a split second later, a stone shattered against Cassianus' barrier into a hundred pieces. Maylene flinched, and aura flared to life more than it already was to keep herself warm. My eyes scanned the surroundings. Nothing but flattened islands of stone, floating over a seemingly endless void that led to nothing but darkness. The stone had impacted the shield to our right, but that could have been a bait and direction was meaningless—

Another one. And another. Hitting over and over so rapidly that I could barely hear myself think. More attacks were added to the mix soon enough. Flames, electricity, water that cooled and turned to ice by the time it hit, but those were fine. Easy, even. The problem came when the barrier cracked from two blasts of darkness from twelve o' clock, right in front of us from far above. It was a good thing I'd learned those after it had almost bit me in the ass in Lakhutia. Before a second flurry could hit, Cass raised solid earth into a circular crust around us, but there were only so many attacks they could juggle. Sunshine growled at the sudden ambush, but he stayed put.

"Maylene. My pokeballs."

The cold was making moving my individual fingers impossible. I could have brushed my hands against my belt, but she was here and would be faster. Scarlet light lit up our cocoon for a split second, and my entire team was released just as the earthen shield broke down despite Claydol's best efforts.

All of my Pokemon, including Mimi. Maylene hadn't known which was which. The steel type squealed, liquefying and crawling up my sleeve at the sudden violence and even more when the earthen shell collapsed— Honey raised both of his arms, surrounding as much of the team with a Protect that shimmered green. Angel slowly opened his large, round eyes and shook off the tiredness as his vines snaked across the ground. Panel-like psychic barriers started appearing at a distance as Princess blocked the more telegraphed and slow attacks; a dull shower of red flames, poisoned darts, steaming-hot mud, and more than I could keep track of. Being out of the Protect, Buddy kept low to the ground, turning into a puddle of goo while Sweetheart allowed the attacks to hit her.

They barely tickled her, though Princess or Cass made sure to shield her when they could afford to.

"We're under attack, as you can see," I smoothly said. "I don't know who, but I do have an inkling. Cass?"

Now that their barrier had isolated for sound, we could finally hear ourselves speak. It was a little eerie, to see those explosions, impacts and lights and hear nothing save for the occasional break whenever a dark type move forced Honey to step up with Protect. There was nothing but our voices and the hissing of my oxygen mask.

Scanning… Scanning… their eyes glowed a smidge pinker. Sixty-four entities detected around us. Possibly more are out of range.

I nodded. I wasn't practiced with my empathy enough to know exact numbers, though I could tell their general direction.

They were all around us. Each group hidden on an island, and all of them having the high ground.

This had been planned. Far more planned than any wild Pokemon could do when their home was literally dying and they risked freezing to death in a few hours. Hell, we hadn't come across a group that large since the first layer.

"Could it be Coronet?" Maylene asked. "The wild Pokemon?"

"No. Princess… no, Buddy, go and scout, please. Come back if you can't handle it. We need you in a fighting state."

The ghost silently sank deep into the stone, though he kept a part of himself with me so we could communicate. More attacks kept battering our position, but at this point it was only a matter of cycling Togekiss, Claydol and Electivire for protection. The latter's reaction time was something to admire, with how he managed to catch nearly every single dark and ghost type move before they could make it to us. His tails lashed against the earth with each hit, not because he was struggling yet, but because he was terrified of what was to come.

"Maylene, recall Mimi, if you will."

She blinked at me, but as soon as the steel type heard the word recall, they jumped out of my sleeve and let themselves be beamed back despite their hatred of Pokeballs. The attacks didn't pause, not when they knew they could exhaust us the more they forced us to stay on the defensive, so that was smart. The fact that they were higher than us meant that retaliating would be difficult, and these islands were so large that only someone like Rhyperior could have managed to collapse them.

Okay, then, I thought as a piece of coal exploded in my face. There was no doubt in my mind.

Buddy's goo writhed against the floor, and he quickly confirmed what I was thinking.

Team Galactic.

"Is a Commander with them?" I pushed.

He said he was hearing the word Saturn from whoever was communicating, but his voice was quickly cut off. A Pokemon might have sensed him underground and pushed him away.

Trigger Warning - Fight to the death, gore, etc.

"Grace?" Maylene gulped.

My body felt so warm. Only for a moment.

I was grinning under the mask so hard my cheeks hurt, but I couldn't let glee from this opportunity take over and throw caution to the wind. As it stood, we were in a worse position than ideal. The high ground was the worst of the problems, and when that was fixed, I'd need to endanger ourselves by sending my Pokemon out to kill… or disable these grunts. I could see their Pokemon poking their faces from the edges of their platforms above us, now. A glowing Coalossal battering us with exploding coal, a Gigalith sending sharpened, red hot stones that burst upon contact, a Smeargle using every elemental attack under the sun— too many of them to count.

But the fact that we weren't dead yet meant that they were rather weak compared to us. Princess, Honey and Cassianus were enough to keep them at bay— with much strain.

"Stick close," I told Maylene. "Bud, you snipe off stragglers whenever you can. Cass and Princess?"

Yes, my King?

My daughter couldn't glance at me due to her focus, but she was listening.

"Raise the earth."

The ground beneath my feet began to stir, an almost imperceptible shudder at first, like the softest tremor of an anxious heartbeat. Attacks kept pestering us from all sides, and Honey let me know that he would be tapped out of Protect sooner rather than with a tired grunt if he still wanted energy to actually fight. Then, with little warning, a small pillar beneath our feet rose— ten feet in width. The suddenness of it nearly made my knees buckle, and my stomach sank deep into my gut. The platform rose, rose, and rose higher, still, until we towered over all who would threaten us. The psychic barrier wobbled from the sudden shift in movement, and I could hear once again.

I saw it clearly, now. Uniformed men and women with bright yellow 'G's on their chests, huddled around fire types like we had done the past few hours. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jellicent's maw wrapping around a Sawsbuck while the grass type screamed for help. The ghosts' body turned frozen before he could be blown up by the nearby Coalossal, and while chunks of him did fly outward, they floated around him and were sent into Pokemon with flesh and capable of being stabbed. The majority of them were stopped by a Slowbro's thin shield, but the ones that hit?

A shard of ice— powered by the Hoarfrost— penetrated through a Gurdurr's arm and began freezing the fighting type from the inside while Buddy sent the Sawsbuck careening off the island.

We heard her scream.

All the way down.

Until the sound of crunching bones was regurgitated by the void below. It echoed again and again, and Maylene paled next to me.

"Try not to kill if you can. Injure or knock out," I whispered. I motioned at Claydol to prevent sound from getting in again. The attacks were starting back up now that we'd stopped moving.

He had no time to answer, but I knew how exasperated he was. It was more work for him and more danger for us.

"I said try. If it's too much, well, go ahead. You have no reason to kill the people, though," I said. "They're harmless."

They were cold, miserable, but most of all, they were skittish. That was why Coalossal had sent an exploding piece of coal toward Buddy even though it had burned the skin off Sawsbuck neck and exposed the flesh below. The cold had stripped them bare, and even though they were an impressive, organized force, they were prone to mistakes just like I was. What did surprise me, though, was that they were using no breathing apparatus to survive up here. Had I not taken off my mask to quickly scarf down something to eat earlier, I might have gotten fooled. In a mere minute, I'd grown lightheaded enough for my head to spin.

I had scanned the entire battlefield and kept track of how many Pokemon were on each island, but most importantly, I had found Saturn. Loyalty burning bright, the furthest island away from me as if the universe itself was playing some kind of cosmic joke upon me. He was on the tallest pillar— an overhang against a wall of the cave that was far too large to be called an island. Sixty-four entities had not included the ten dark types present— one on each of the pillars. There was also one psychic on each, but the real problem were the ice types. Their attacks hit the hardest, and Saturn's Glalie would be an issue as soon as he started attacking.

"The base!" Buddy reported the grunt's order to me.

I'd caught wind of it as well, of course. Hitting the base of the pillar was what made the most sense to get us killed. The dilemma here— around half the flurry of attacks started hitting below us instead, like clockwork— was that I needed to deal with a decent amount of dark types before I could send Honey out to do what he did best. His fur bristled ahead of me. I could tell he was eager to get involved, not to hurt, but to protect us.

I tried clenching a fist. I failed. "Sweetie, Sunshine, I'm sending you out to play." Each word was harsh, and I could see my breath ahead of me, slightly fogging up the lenses in my mask. "Maylene? One island to both."

"Gotcha," she whispered.

"Angel, you're below. Keep the base of the pillar going, I'll swap you out when I can. Buddy?" The goo writhed on the ground. "Keep doing what you're doing." A Golbat was being frozen from the inside from the same island he'd been harassing. Night Shades were stalking at their edges and hitting them with Ice Beams. "But if Sunshine or Sweetheart ever need support, you're up. Cass, keep the warmth near us so we don't freeze to death."

And that death would come quickly if we weren't careful.

Angel jumped off the pillar with vines coalescing into knots below himself. He landed three seconds later with a loud crash that I felt vibrate up the pillar, and I knew we were in good hands. He would get hit a decent amount, but I trusted him to handle himself with Ancient Power. I hadn't picked him for no reason. Tangrowth was, for all intents and purposes, very difficult to kill.

Next, Turtonator and Tyranitar fell upon the island closest to us like thunder. One with a Sneasel and Starmie.

It could have gone only one way. Sunshine's fire was a dull red, barely alive due to Regice's influence, and his movements were sluggish due to the cold, but his draconic side was still raring to go. Somehow, the fire type carried his momentum from being released and was already spinning on his shell from the second he was out of the ball. Turquoise draconic flames swirled out of his side, and he crashed into a Quagsire's head on. He snapped out of his shell in an instant, and grabbed onto the ground type's rubbery body, hitting it with Focus Blast as thin as a line that brightened the cavern. The beam cut through the blubber and into the flesh, but an Ice Beam from Sneasel hit the fire type's shell and forced him to let go. What he had to deal with was little compared to how much Team Galactic focused on Sweetheart, however.

A Tyranitar was an imposing force one simply couldn't look away from, and she was fissuring the ground ahead of her. Bright energy emerged from the cracks, hitting swaths of Pokemon at a time while she fired off a Dark Pulse directly at Starmie. A Hariyama slid in front of the darkened beam and clapped his hands.

The impact sounded more like someone had ran a bus through an industrial shredder than a hand clap, but the Dark Pulse dissolved into thin air before it could even reach him. Somehow, we could hear it through our barrier. A quiet, but still rough sound that had me frowning.

Could it still slip through because of a particular technique?

"Target him if you can," I told Buddy.

It'd take a decent amount of time for him to get there, but that was fine. Saturn was content to let the battle go for as long as possible instead of committing his own Pokemon now beyond a few attacks from a distance, because his plan was to tire us out with his grunts and then finish us off when it was only him left. Or him and a few of his worthless grunts.

That was fine by me. He might have been a Commander, but he was still just as cowardly as he'd been in Mount Coronet when he'd killed Kamaile.

Turtonator finished off that pesky Sneasel by cutting across her chest with a Focus Blast and turned his attention to Hariyama, who was the biggest problem on this particular platform. The fighting type could make darkness disappear out of thin air through some kind of clapping technique, and I could tell the sound itself was hurting my Pokemon as well. It wasn't letting Jellicent approach, either, and dissolving the ice he would send from afar before it could even enter the fighting type's body.

"Honey."

Besides me, Electivire stirred.

There were scant openings between the blasts of darkness, but there were openings. Had they been better organized, they would have had one Dark Pulse or similar technique continuously running from each island one by one so their Pokemon could rest a little bit. Implement some kind of cycle.

That wasn't the case. I did not know if it was because they hadn't organized, or because no plan survived contact with the enemy and I had rattled them.

Honey raised a fist and huffed, wrapping his hands around nothing at first. Then, electricity hummed to life around his fingers, focusing into a thin, thin line. My hair stood on end below my gear and mask as I watched my son send a spear of lighting toward Hariyama.

He could have clapped. He really could have.

But he was slower than lightning. In an instant, the spear had stabbed into the fighting type's shoulder and had him frying on the ground. Sweetheart grinned, and a burst of concentrated darkened sand from her vents dissolved Starmie's barrier with what I knew to be a silent, yet hypnotic hiss. A sharp, sibilant sound that tickled the ears. The Pokemon behind it were exposed, now— Torkoal, Flaafy, Watchog, Sudowoodo… they took care of all of them in one fell swoop.

Starmie's gem cracked to a single Dragon Pulse from Sunshine, and the first island fell.

Nine more to go.

We'd tried to keep Torkoal standing so she would heat up the grunts, but the fire type kept attacking no matter how much Sweetheart tried to communicate…

She just kept attacking. She was too wrapped up in her little cult.

The eighth was more or less of the same, with Princess this time serving as the knife in the dark. An endless row of spikes she'd gathered with Angel's help down below rained endless ice onto the grunts and their Pokemon thanks to the work we'd done with Tri-Attack. With Nasty Plot and the power of Regice behind her, the next barrier shattered after enough hits. In the sky, Buddy took down a Staraptor and a Fearow, coating their wings in ice by directing water to coat their plumage and snap freezing it with but a thought. One fell into the void below while the latter crashed into the island, his wings broken.

Again, the grunts refused to be spared, but this time, some of their unconscious Pokemon were at least recalled.

By the seventh, they switched things up and decided to focus all of their fire on Angel instead of half and half, probably in hopes that once he fell, I would be next because they'd be able to collapse the pillar, but it was then that I allowed Princess to spread her wings and let Claydol and Honey work alone. The fairy type could not save Tangrowth from being hurt too much, but she could serve as a new distraction to rattle the grunts.

And Moonblast was among our most powerful of moves, even if it was slow to gather. She danced around almost every attack, every esoteric or elemental beam, every rock, with thin panels appearing in front of her whenever she couldn't dodge. These were not full barriers wrapping around her entire body, but walls small enough to cover only part of her so she wouldn't have to shed as much speed as she had against Byron.

Like a clear moon in the night sky, dim spots and brightness and everything that made it pure, Princess launched her implement toward the seventh island. Maylene quickly recalled Sunshine, who would not be able to resist the cutting, and rereleased him next to us so we would once again regain a fraction of the warmth we'd lost. It took everything I had not to throw myself against his scales and beg for him to make it warmer when he was already doing all he could. Given that this was a kind of fight we could stop and think in, Maylene grabbed potions from my bag and sprayed it on the fire type's wounds. Most of them were shallow, but any help was welcome, even if the potion wouldn't gain him his energy back. The moon cut, cut, and cut until every Pokemon was bled. Not torn to shreds like they could have been, but bled into unconsciousness. Sweetheart growled in annoyance, but given that Princess had been holding back, she just grinned and continued on her rampage, stomping on a Manetric's body to keep her still, and then forcing the earth below her to shake with energy.

It was debilitating, not being able to move my fingers—

The barrier shattered, and Maylene grabbed me in a bear hug, dropping the potion beyond our little pillar. She threw the both of us behind Sunshine, and the darkened ice hit Cass right in the face. I could barely move my body, but my eyes worked fine. It was that motherfucking Glalie, Saturn's own ice type, who had struck us when we least expected it, and I'd almost died because of it.

Your ego is too big. That gets you killed. Rhyperior's words rang in my mind, and the sharpened smile I'd donned this entire fight faltered for a moment.

Focus. Saturn was a coward, yes, but he wasn't dumb. Princess had distracted me just as much as she had his grunts. He'd used a break in Honey's Protect to nearly take me down, and then it had nearly all been over. My heart pumped so strongly that it hurt, and my breaths grew rapid as adrenaline coursed through my veins. Claydol quickly put the barrier back again, and I barked at Maylene to recall and release Princess back here before Honey's Protect had to go down again. She followed my instructions before whatever attack that had been from Glalie could come back, and Princess quickly got back to us.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—

"It's okay, Cass. You have the best barriers of the team, but Regice combined with dark type moves is just too much for you on your own when they're battering us from every side," I said. "Is everyone okay?"

"Hmhm," Maylene said, quiet. She was pale, and a little green, like she was on the verge of throwing up.

Sunshine grunted, though the ice had spread within his chest. He was frustrated with his performance. He'd been calm and collected, just like I'd asked of him in preparation for this day, but I understood him. To be weakened this much against the one who had killed your previous trainer?

That would be enough to make anyone's blood boil.

"Let's have you on break while you warm us up. Maylene, I'm going to need you to keep me centered—"

Maylene threw up next to me and heaved while she clenched at her stomach. "Ha… ha…" she exhaled slowly. Methodically. "I'm… sorry. It's just… we killed so many that I— I released them on there—" she threw up again, belching on the ground until her stomach was empty. It pooled until it touched my boot.

"I did it," I said, rubbing her back as best I could. "Not you. Me and my Pokemon killed them despite trying otherwise. You shouldn't feel guilty."

"I do anyway." She glanced toward the first stone platform we'd won on, and looked at the grunts having frozen to death. Frost clung to the edges of their bodies and slowly crept up their limbs.

I wanted to retort, but now wasn't the time for this.

Well, at least if she felt like she'd killed someone, the first time was always the hardest.

"Buddy, come back," I sighed. "We'll swap you with Honey, he needs a break. Protect duty."

The ghost had been skulking around and defeating any Pokemon he could get his hands on and had been adept had distracting ice and dark types on islands we weren't attacking with shades and more solid clones of himself. Truth be told, without knowing exactly what he felt like with my empathy, I never would have been able to know where he was.

It only took him thirty seconds to get here. On the way, he was hit by a Thunderbolt, a Pin Missile and a stream of ghostly energy. The Pin Missiles had me worried, but he froze over to prevent them from entering his body and messing with his head. He could do it so quickly, now. Regice took, but it also gave.

"Honey, you're up. Maylene, are you well enough to release my Tyranitar on the island Honey jumps to?"

She looked at me like she was exhausted. "Yes. But wait, jump to? Are you sure that's not dangerous—"

Electivire's body hummed as electricity coiled around his legs, and he leaped across the air, arms whirling around as he arced in the sky. He landed on the sixth island by punching the earth with his two fists, and electricity exploded around him, hitting an unsuspecting Sableye who had been hiding in a shadow. Before the dark type could retreat, Honey blurred toward him and grabbed him by the throat in an instant with a 'why are you making me do this' look, and he punched the little Pokemon in the stomach with Thunder Punch twice until he fell unconscious. Just as Sweetheart was released onto the same island, a spray of rocks hit Honey in the shoulder and face strongly enough to coat his fur in blood, but instead of falling to the ground, the rocks spun around him. They were all linked by electricity, all orbiting around his body like they were his, now, and they were.

He sent them back toward that Graveler and her ilk. Thanks to its protector— an Aegisash with a curved blade and a rather large shield— being distracted by Sweetheart's own dark type moves, the barrier strained thanks to the sheer amount of electrified rocks being thrown at it, and they stuck there, too, like they were glued to its surface, constantly shocking the thin layer that the Medicham has claimed as his own impassable barrier, save for the holes he continuously opened and closed to allow his allies to strike back like Graveler had.

The problem was that Honey was simply too fast to hit for most attacks, and Sweetheart was too tough for them to matter. The coup de grâce came in the form of a running Hammer Arm that shattered the shield as if someone had broken a window. His movements after were slower, and a vine from a Sunflora wrapped around his wrist while Graveler prepared another stone spray and a Zebstrika rammed into his chest, but Electivire just pulled just gently enough not to tear the vine and brought Sunflora forward while he grabbed onto the back of Zebstrika's neck and prevented him from escaping. His muscles bulged below his fur.

I didn't hear him, but I could tell he was apologetic when he stole all of Zebstrika's electricity to renew his energy and left her slumping against the ground. Sunflora hadn't made it through the shock, and his own body was fried, almost burned.

Knowing that he had to fight, Medicham's palm glowed white, and the fighting type slammed it into Tyranitar's gut.

She looked down at him and grinned.

Medicham didn't last very long after that. His unconscious form lay against the stone like a dying bug, his arm stretched and contracted against himself.

It was only a matter of time now that I'd found our groove, but it was slower and more exhausting for my Pokemon than I would have liked. Again and again, we won battle after battle, but the closer they got to Saturn, the more the little shit started to intervene, hitting my Pokemon and whittling them down. I would cycle them, making sure that Electivire, Tyranitar, Turtonator and Jellicent saw an equal amount of fighting— though Buddy saw the most, with the way he could turn ice into his own and was among by best in terms of stamina regardless.

They stood ragged and breathless, by the end of it. They had taken out nearly sixty Pokemon by themselves, and no matter how much more powerful they were, they weren't strong enough to beat them without breaking a sweat like I'd heard Cynthia's Pokemon had done.

But we'd survived. The more we knocked unconscious and killed, the fewer attacks had come, and the situation had turned in our favor.

The pillar Cassianus and Princess had erected for us lowered itself until it melted back into the ground below. I winced when I saw Angel again. I'd checked in on him a few times using Buddy, but by the Legendaries, he was among the worse off. There were few nutrients to make use of in the cave, with the vegetation on this layer mostly consisting of shrub growing in between cracks or on the facades of some pillars. He looked smaller than he should be, with his vines having been frozen or melted by acid. Another ray of ice shot out across the ground until it reached us, freezing everything in its path, but Claydol raised three barriers of earth ahead.

It broke the first two, but dissolved against the third. Saturn was being very… reserved with his moves, only using Glalie and occasionally Grimmsnarl to hit us, but then again, his team seemed to be better at close combat. Cass had stopped blocking sound, opting to salvage any energy they could before the true battle began, so I wordlessly grabbed another one of those incredible potions from the bag on Maylene's back and sprayed it on Angel before moving on to the rest of my Pokemon. Their external wounds closed quickly, but the dried blood on Honey's chest and shoulder remained, as did the missing bits of Princess' fur on her wings, which had been a priority target. She could actually fly no problem, but Honey had problems lifting his right arm correctly. Still, he would do it if all it brought was pain and it meant we'd survive.

The crack on Sunshine's shell slowly closed. It hadn't been there because he'd exploded it too much, but because too many ice type moves had turned it brittle enough to break to a Persian's Slash. He brushed me off in annoyance when I asked if he was okay again, and I let it go rather than push. I knew what the problem was already. No words were needed. Sweetheart was the least hurt of all and needed no potions. Caverns like these were where she excelled, and most Pokemon had been too weak to even break through her. The confidence she'd gained from getting closure had her moving… not faster, but more efficiently. Every movement came easier to her, like she'd shed weight she'd been carrying for far too long. Cass had only taken one hit, and Buddy was Buddy. He was a little tired, but he could take a lot of abuse before he'd be out for the count. Still, I carefully spread my potions across every member of the team…

"He's coming," Maylene said, slightly breathless. "He's coming to fight us."

He was, with the two remaining grunts at his side, walking atop a shining platform created by his Bronzong.

"Dark Pulse."

Darkness coiled and thickened within Tyranitar's mouth, and she let it loose like a whisper. I almost expected a portal to form and to throw the attack back at us, but instead Exploud opened his mouth and—

The air itself seemed to tremble with the force of his cry. It wasn't just a sound; it was a physical force, a sonic onslaught that hit me like a mace striking my chest and head. I covered my ears out of instinct, and some of my Pokemon did, too, but it didn't matter.

They were ringing when it was over, with a constant echo of Exploud's grating voice. The Dark Pulse hadn't dissolved due to the sound, but it had frayed and lost its consistency, allowing Grimmsnarl to extend an arm forward and spread the hair on his body into a thick, solid wall to keep his trainer safe.

"Sound off," I said. Or at least I believed I'd said it. I could barely hear myself talk. "It stays off the entire fight."

Maylene said something, but I could only barely hear her.

She asks if we should try to run past them, Cass said directly in my mind.

"We'll never lose them, not when I screwed with Coronet. We fight here, or we die." My hand went up to run through my hair, but I was wearing a mask and a hood, and my fingers couldn't move.

I figured Cass was relaying what I was saying, because Maylene frowned at me, but then managed to muster a nod. I told the psychic to apologize to her on my behalf and let out a long, satisfied groan while Exploud screamed again, this time with almost no effect. He was so damn loud that some sound still managed to slip through the barrier, and I assumed Saturn's Bronzong was experienced enough with his own teammate to keep him from going deaf.

Toxicroak, Grimmsnarl, Excadrill, Bronzong, Exploud, Glalie. A dead Crobat, according to the League, so maybe I could exploit that weakness at some point. Kill one of them and say they were gone just like Crobat, maybe, if an opportunity came up where it was safe for Claydol to let sound through and Bronzong was out. Sawk, another Persian, Golbat for one of the grunts, Scrafty, Skuntank and Purugly for the other. They looked unsure of themselves. Weak. But I still had to be careful.

Watch your ego.

It was so silent when they landed on the stone and I saw his face up close. Smooth, without any scars, acne or blemishes, yet his movements were the opposite of that. Nervous, frenetic, teeth gnashing. He was not afraid, because what had happened had gone according to his plan, or maybe even better than he'd wanted, but I could see the concoction inside of him now. He was the kind of person to worry about every little detail. They would eat at him until he encompassed the self-doubt that he had tried to keep away. It was interesting, but it was also delicious, almost intoxicating.

I'd bet he was thinking about every little thing that could go wrong in the next few minutes. I was, too. I so dearly wanted to talk to him. To give him a long-winded speech about his wrongs and why he had to die.

Now wasn't the time.

"Cass, you're relaying commands. Focus on the grunts at first, then we hone in on Saturn."

We struck first.

Honey lifted a hand toward the sky and shot out a beam of electricity toward Golbat, but it broke against a panel of light. The attack was constant— a never-ending electric current, so he lowered his hand toward Skuntank instead, having identified him as the slowest Pokemon belonging to the grunts that he could target. Bronzong seemed to be able to track him everywhere, but he moved faster, and eventually he managed to singe the side of Scrafty's leg. Honey flexed his arm, and the limb swung wildly to the left, causing the fighting type to fall, and his lightning fried his brain until he was rendered unconscious.

Ordinarily, pride would have swelled in my chest, but instead, my eyes darted in every direction as fighting erupted all around me. All of my other Pokemon spread out, but I noticed Saturn's kept close save for his Excadrill that buried in the ground. Cold spread across the rock, growing like a cancer as Glalie blew a Frost Breath that spread ten times as far as it should have, hitting his grunts' Purugly and Skuntank in the process.

Below ground came a deep rumble, and then the ice that had just appeared shattered, erupting high into the sky. Instead of falling back, Glalie grinned and the ice fell upon us like rain just as Princess had done before, but better. The shards were pure ice instead of stone coated in it, and they looked transparent as they battered around the barrier. Up high, Togekiss lanced a sharp baton through Golbat's mouth and kept chaining attacks, raining hell on every Pokemon she could hit.

"Angel, Buddy, get that Excadrill."

Sweetheart didn't have the kind of control to stop the ground from shaking. It would be like trying to hammer a screw. Possible, but far less effective than a screwdriver. Plus, she was quite busy. She had used sand to propel herself and had dived into Purugly to crush her under her weight.

Grimmsnarl's hair stopped her. It had snaked around her arms, legs and stomach in an instant, and he threw her back toward us with a single hand.

…how?

I was swept off my feet by Maylene, and she grabbed me in a princess carry. Honey pushed Cass away and she followed the psychic with speed that was inhuman. The barrier followed us as best it could, and Honey disappeared in a flash of electricity behind us, but while I could barely hear, I felt the impact in her back.

Shit.

Sweetheart crashed into the earth, creating a massive crater outlining her body and then some while I saw Tangrowth pull Excadrill out of the ground with solid stone around most of his vines that took ten times as long to cut. They glowed green beneath the cracks as he desperately sucked Excadrill's energy. Buddy ejected a few shards from his head, but they all failed to penetrate past his flesh and the steel type managed to escape. Tougher than he looks. Jellicent's true intention, as was his specialty, was trying to get inside the ground type's mouth and nose, but he froze in an instant and a tight, psychic hold from Bronzong shattered him.

He was still conscious, of course. The pieces of his body were separate, but they were quickly gathering back together while some threw themselves against his enemies. He was tired, by the Legendaries, he was, but he knew what was on the line and he would never rest until every Pokemon trying to kill us was dead. Ice stabbed into Skuntank and exploded his entire shoulder, revealing torn, pale and frozen flesh below.

Ruthless. He was ruthless. The poison type's eyes widened when he slumped to the side after walking didn't work anymore, and he passed out from shock, but more pieces of the ghost shattered like fireworks when Glalie's eyes shone and the ice type shivered until there was little left of Jellicent.

Glalie here was in quite the position. He was by far the most powerful player on the field, but Saturn was keeping him on a tight leash because he couldn't control himself. It was too much power that he wasn't accustomed to, and he bled cold everywhere he went. That was why his attacks kept hitting others when he hadn't meant them to—

"Maylene are you okay?" I stared up at Cass. "Is she okay?"

Her mouth moved. I could barely understand her, but ice had penetrated into her shoulder blade. The spike was the length of my head and had frozen her skin and blood over. She grabbed it by the hand and ripped it out of her shoulder, crushing it within her fist. The fact that the wound was frozen meant that she wouldn't lose blood, at least, because I wasn't sure pulling it out had been a great idea. Or perhaps she feared Glalie would be able to influence it from within the barrier.

She says she's alright, Cass quickly said. They levitated a piece of mud and sprayed Persian in the eyes. The normal type had been circling around us and trying to find an angle to strike, probably with Night Slash, but the impact from the mud threw them back. There was force to it, and each piece was substantial enough for the feline to hiss and dash away toward Sunshine instead, but Honey appeared in front of her in a flash and slammed her head against the cold, hard ground, allowing for another lance from Princess to skewer her from the skies. He was simply faster than anyone on the field, at the moment, and Motor Drive had allowed him to steal electricity from electric types he'd encountered before this fight.

He would grow even quicker before he tired.

Sweetheart was struggling where we'd just been and still struggled to stand back up. Excadrill had turned the ground below her to quicksand and had gone too far to be in range of Angel's vines. Still at Saturn's side, Toxicroark belched out poisonous liquid at her while Sawk patiently waited to strike. I called out to Cass so they could tell Maylene to recall her, but the air in front of us condensed to a clear ice wall whose frost crept so far I could feel it through… through…

I shook myself to alertness. Ice was crawling on my mountaineering gear like a living being.

I understood why Glalie was holding back a little more, now. His frost could go through Cass' barrier, which meant it could go through Saturn's as well, and his control was lacking. It was as if someone had given their Rattata Hyper Beam and endless energy.

Air sliced across stone and then around Sawk, but the fighting type was faster than he looked. He backflipped away from the series of Air Slashes, but at the very least, he wasn't hitting Tyranitar's softened flank. The danger came when Excadrill burst below her, his body twisting so fast he was only a blur. He tried penetrating past her plates, but her back had been spared from Toxicroak's poison and he could only graze her until he continued and flew high into the sky. A pained expression followed when he stopped spinning and an Air Slash and elemental beams of ice from Princess hit him in the stomach, but he dove back down into the earth like it was water before more attacks could hit him. At least she'd kept him away from landing back and perforating through her stomach. That would have killed her.

Turtonator finally reached Sawk in hopes of helping Sweetie, and while he hit him in the chest, the momentum from the previous explosion he'd left was too much to stop when the disparity in strength was so large. The fighting type was quick to pull his hands up to guard, but the Dragon Pulse blew him away and into Angel's grasp, from which he withered as life was sapped from his skin and he was rendered completely dry before he could attempt to break out.

"Behind him!" I screamed.

They were all moving, now. Toxicroak, Grimmsnarl, Exploud and even Glalie. Toxicroak was the fastest, and his claws dripped with green poison. It didn't dissolve the stone it fell on like Cece's, but it made it softer. Almost mushy, the perfect consistency to stab through hard skin or scales. Honey finished dealing with Purugly and looked back, but Exploud had turned to face him and screamed.

This time, I could see it literally take shape in a cone-like blast. The electric type buckled to one knee while frost overtook his legs, then torso, then arms— his fists burst into flames that were immediately smothered by the cold, and Glalie grinned. That was not the only Pokemon he was sending his wicked frost onto. They were all freezing slowly. Angel, Sunshine, Sweetheart—

Shadows bled up from the ground, leaking like a sieve as it reformed into a shade of Jellicent and it exploded next to Glalie. Then came another, and another, and the pain allowed my team to unfreeze themselves through various ways. Sunshine, through the last remaining embers he could muster, though he had taken multiple jabs from Toxicroak in the leg for it and he was struggling to stand. Toxicroak cackled. I could see his head bobbing up and down. He was enjoying this. Grimmsnarl was laughing, too. Circling around Turtonator like a Mandibuzz waiting for its prey to die over the desert, only occasionally whipping him with hair glowering pink.

I hated them.

"Kill that Glalie."

The orders diffused from Cass were swift. Having been spared from the cold, Princess dove down and weaved a plethora of attacks behind her. Rocks, ice, electricity, balls of shadow, dying, smothered flames, sharpened air— the first three hit Glalie before he encased himself in a ball of ice as hard as bedrock, from the way the other attacks just bounced off of him. I was starting to grasp the reason why Saturn had waited so long. He was studying me.

I hadn't given him enough credit. He knew now I had very little control over the earth compared to what his Excadrill was capable of, that Jellicent was the only one who could come close to his Glalie in terms of controlling ice, that Cass' barriers were strong enough to withstand his attacks, so he needed not to waste time on trying to kill me before he dealt with my other Pokemon. His Pokemon were each strong in their own right, and even without Regice, Glalie would have been a force to be reckoned with.

I was slowly realizing he had something else, though.

So as I watched my Pokemon shake off the last flickers of cold and rise to their feet and Saturn barked out an order, I allowed air to fill my lungs to the brim and took a frosty breath.

"Forget that order," I rectified myself. "I need to arrange a fight. Sunshine against Grimmsnarl. Buddy has to go in the ground and contain this fucking Excadrill who keeps making Sand Tombs and tearing us apart. Princess focuses on Glalie and keeps him at bay, Honey fights Toxicroak. I trust him to keep up with his speed. Sweetie and Angel take Exploud."

Cassianus, bless their soul, had been relaying what I'd said to every Pokemon as soon as I'd said it. Electivire was the first to move, his movements still dull from the cold. Glalie spat out a beam of frost— no, it was more accurate to saw that frost formed in-between the two, as if it had snapped into place from the cold in the air, but the electric type blew up with Discharge and leapt even faster across the ground.

Unlike his allies, Toxicroak managed to react, though barely. The toad managed to bring his arms into an 'X' to block the hit coming to his face and his hands soon grabbed onto Electivire's wrists. He jumped over his back and was about to stab into his neck, but Honey's tail wrapped around his ankle and slapped him against the stone—

After which he fell through the ground. Honey would have gone, too, but electricity hummed at his feet and he managed to hover a few inches above ground, though barely. It was a clumsy thing, and he had to keep his hands stretched to keep his balance. Toxicroak was spat out away from him and next to Angel, who'd been cornering Exploud with vines that he could simply scream away.

"Stone him."

Like clockwork, Claydol raised a boulder and smashed it against the fighting type, who just punched through it. That had bought Angel enough time to realize he was being stalked, though, and the grass type had the ground shake with a small, localized Bulldoze before Toxicroak could close the distance. The quake slowed Toxicroak enough for Sweetheart to make it and he decided not to bother fighting her.

"He thinks Exploud can handle himself. Warn them." Excadrill might be more of a battlefield support type. Evac and such.

My attention drifted back to Glalie, who was trading blows with Togekiss. The only way she'd found to keep her wings from freezing at his stare was to keep them perpetually on fire and to keep blowing herself up with Dazzling Gleam once that wasn't enough. It was a losing game, but she was forcing Glalie's attention on her. It was difficult to ignore a Pokemon slinging so many attacks at you when you needed to make wall of ice after wall of ice to stay standing.

Below ground, the earth was continuously shifting and turning back to a solid around where I assumed Excadrill could be. An unseen battle was going on between him and Jellicent.

This one was a story of revenge. Saturn did not know this. Oh, he knew Turtonator was Kamaile's, no doubt, there weren't many to go around in Sinnoh, but to him, we were here to stop Cyrus from enacting his plan, and so his was a game of stalling as long as possible. He believed he was fighting Grace-the-shard and not Grace-the-trainer.

He was wrong. We were here to kill him, specifically, and it would start properly.

Sunshine's legs were barely able to keep him standing, yet he locked arms with Grimmsnarl and roared. I could see it etched on his face. The rage at such a twist of fate, the desire to right his wrongs. To be strong where he once had been weak. Grimmsnarl's tongue swirled around his blade-like teeth, and his hair slowly wrapped around the dragon. Crushing. Crushing. Grinding them to dust with the strength that had lifted a Tyranitar and thrown her like she was nothing. He had no flames to pull on, and the turquoise light swirling around him— his draconic essence that kept him standing against all odds— was nigh useless against Grimmsnarl.

Something snapped within him.

He roared, though I could not hear him, and slammed an Iron Tail against his shell. The last of a few dying embers ignited, pushing Sunshine against Grimmsnarl, and he bit into the fairy's neck as they both fell to the ground. His jagged mouth shimmered slightly as it tore through Grimmsnarl's thick locks and the fairy started writhing against the ground and punching the fire type with pink, glowing fists.

It took me a moment to know what he'd done to make this happen. The shining of his mouth was a localized Iron Defense, the same which had withstood the full weight of a Steelix bearing down on him. Turtonator ravaged at the Pokemon's throat until eventually, he stopped writhing. His legs, first, then his arms went completely limp. Dark and thick blood stained his jaws, dripping in heavy, slow droplets to the ground below. Chunks of flesh clung to his maw, a macabre trophy of his victory. Saturn stood there, his Pokeball raised, but he had hesitated. Or maybe he had fumbled as I had so many times.

It was too late.

The wind would hopefully be in our sails, now, but the victory had come at a cost. Princess crashed to the ground, frozen while Maylene recalled her with my guidance before more ice could take a hold of her and finish her off for good. She had burned all of her fur off and was nothing but skin, now, but she was alive. Something in Saturn broke, and he raised a hand. I knew what he was saying. He was ordering his Pokemon to rush to Sunshine, but that was fine.

Toxicroak had to be the next to die, and he was barely, barely keeping up with Electivire's speed. I grimaced when I noticed a few wounds in his chest and legs. They were shallow thanks to his quick reflexes, but the poison would work through him eventually. It took a few moments for Saturn's orders to be relayed, but he swept a foot at Honey and nearly made the electric type trip before blurring toward Sunshine in one smooth turn. Now free from Princess, Glalie did the same, and I barked out at Honey to follow while telling Cass to have Maylene prepare his Pokeball.

And I recalled him as soon as Toxicroak got close. Saturn gnawed at his nails and his face was twisted in anger and grief. Good.

Back to Exploud, I was realizing that he was actually one of Saturn's fiercest fighters. Angel could barely approach with his vines, and the powder he tried to throw never reached the normal type due to the force of his screams. Tangrowth was actually the best at resisting those, but Tyranitar was another story. Blood was pouring down her earholes and she was gnashing her teeth so hard that she was emanating darkness all over. She was the one Cass had the most difficulty communicating with as well due to her typing, so she was… not doing very well. Sound-based techniques were ones that could bypass her armor, and it showed.

"Tell him to go below ground," I said. "He'll get it."

My teeth clamped down on my bottom lip when Exploud seemingly caught on as soon as the Solar Blades buried themselves in the ground. He'd learned from when we'd pulled his ally Excadrill out, and the normal type would not have it happen to him again. He quickly turned 180 degrees and bellowed, launching himself into the air with a sound wave.

"He's landing—"

He was landing next to us. Had Saturn said something— no, no, I had to focus… damn it. Exploud landed with a dull thud that I felt more than I heard to our left, and I raised a hand while he inhaled in an attempt to make him hesitate with my gift—

My head went—

My ears—

I was—

Something slammed into my head. Sound. Sound. It hurt. Piercing sound in my ears. I rolled on the ground and felt blood drip down the side of my cheek. When had I fallen? Why was the ground so comfortable?

My head spun. I could barely focus on what was going on, but I could still see a trembling barrier around us. The sound hadn't shattered it. If it had, I'd be dead. Claydol was hovering and slinging stones around… Maylene… Maylene! I tried pushing myself, but my hands gave way under me. My body just felt so heavy. Instead, I looked at her by turning my head. She was also on the ground— also with a bleeding ear, but unlike me, she was already getting up to her feet. Her hands pulled my shoulders and sat me upright so I could see the fight again.

Angel's vines were dying from something akin to necrosis due to Toxicroak, slowly fading away into nothingness, and he was… bile built up in my throat. He was missing an eye. I hit my limp hand against my thigh to focus. Byron had taught me this. Keep your head in the fight, or you'll all die. Honey was slowly being whittled down by poison too, but at least he was working on keeping Glalie at bay now. Exploud's mouth had been stuffed with enough rocks to have him choke. The normal type gathered darkness within his mouth and snapped them into pieces, but just then, Sweetheart bodyslammed into him with a burst of speed from Rock Polish. I saw Exploud's arm bend wrong and his jaw shatter open, but she wasn't done. Tyranitar clawed it open wider still, and wider, and wider until—

Saturn recalled him.

"Toxicroak." To speak but not hear what you were saying was a disturbing exercise. All I could hear was ringing. The small amount of hearing that had been returning to me was gone. "Then Glalie. Have Maylene prepare to recall Angel."

A stone burst from the ground, but Toxicroak ducked and stabbed Tangrowth again. Of course, Angel was hitting back with the vines he had left, but his was a losing battle. Behind the two, Electivire fired off a discreet electric shock that had his arm jut to the side before he could hit the grass type's other eye, and the next attack was a tried and true Thunder that illuminated the entire cave brightly. Toxicroak convulsed, and Tangrowth stabbed his shoulder with a vine.

Finally.

The vine was withering, but the few Tangrowth had left also penetrated into the same wound. Light built up around them, and the nascent Solar Blade died in its crib in an explosion that left Toxicroak's body split in two uneven halves. I looked at Saturn again while telling Maylene to recall Tangrowth. It had gone so fast, hadn't it? Death was so… nonchalant. My team was quick to take a Pokemon's life, and Commander or not, I had more experience with murder of this kind. Murder of an equal, not children dying to bombs or killing people with the advantage of numbers. I hoped he felt just like Sunshine had, even through the agony wracking my ear and brain.

Sweetheart spared me a look, and I nodded at her. I'll live. With the friction on her feet now lower, she slid across the ground, pushing herself with sand toward Saturn until his face twisted to one of fear. I slowly raised a hand and focused on Bronzong. Yes. It had taken restraint to wait this long, hadn't it? To find a prime opportunity to fuck him over. Slowly. Carefully.

All I needed was a little doubt. To exploit the thought that Bronzong might not be good enough. It was already there, after all, and only had to be nurtured. Trainers tended to influence the way their Pokemon behaved just as much as the opposite did.

Tiredness took me, and I wondered how I'd even be able to walk after this. The Protect which had come to replace Saturn's barrier was too slow to build up, and Sweetheart rammed into it with darkened sands coiling around her. The blackened dots had peppered the psychic shield still remaining ahead of her, and it broke down with the impact. Metal exploded out of the hole below Bronzong and hit her in the face, knocking the lights out of her, but Saturn had fallen on his ass and was crawling backward. He called out, and Glalie's eyes shone. The air around him swirled, encasing him in a block of hollow ice. At first, I thought he'd freeze, but he didn't.

He was, however, injured. Ice had spread to his arms and legs and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. The other two grunts were left to die. One was swept by Tyranitar's tail as she turned to hit Bronzong with a Dark Pulse that clashed with another Flash Cannon and the other, she crushed under a foot until he became red mist. That one actually had me wince. She was angry I'd come close to dying. Her attack was more powerful than theirs, since they were a defensive Pokemon, but the steel type dashed away with a burst of metal behind them and formed a little ball of light before them. It was a dim glow, and while I could not hear the spirits scream, I had seen the attack enough to understand what it was.

"Confuse Ray," I warned.

But it was weaker than I thought it'd be. A simple blast of darkness, and it was gone, and I realized it had been born of desperation, and not strategy. Like a child swinging a knife in the dark. Everywhere Bronzong went, they were coated with mud that solidified around their form. Heavier and heavier, it weighed and slowed them down. Claydol's eyes flashed, and the ground type forced their element down at full force. This Bronzong was no Rapture. They were a pale, pale version of what Byron's Pokemon could do, and it was only a matter of time until Sweetheart took them down.

Electivire couldn't approach Glalie. He had been dueling the ice type, but slowly losing due to attrition. Everywhere he stepped, Glalie summoned ice to bind him and slow his movements, and the ice type wasn't exactly built to exploit involuntary spasms of muscles. Honey fired off Thunderbolt after Thunderbolt to conserve energy, but the majority of them were blocked by ice walls. A wide smile was etched upon Glalie's face as he pushed, pushed and pushed. I winced when Honey's arm went limp and a Protect was the only thing that kept his blood from freezing within him. The land itself was turning to ice— a snowscape that would have Glalie's power reach its apex. Cass tried slinging mud at him, but it simply froze and they lost control before it could reach him.

It was so, terribly cold.

My body was unfeeling. My thoughts were growing numb, and Claydol had to keep me from falling asleep every few seconds. The barrier seemed to tighten around us to preserve as much heat as possible. It was only a minute later, when I had Maylene prepared to recall Electivire due to fears of him freezing to death, that Jellicent emerged from the floor. The way his form rippled, it was easy to tell the fight had been brutal, or maybe I was just seeing things. I had pegged Exadrill as a support type, but fighting an expert on burrowing underground was bound to have him struggle.

He claimed a portion of the land as his own and slowed Bronzong down enough for a final Dark Pulse to hit them. Sweetheart didn't bother killing the steel type, instead content to leave them unconscious. Glalie eyed his new challenger and turned him to ice with but a glare. Jellicent froze, unfroze, froze, unfroze in a cycle that would seemingly never end, and all while that was happening, Glalie was fighting the others, too. An Ice Beam hit Sweetheart in the chest and she slid back like she'd been hit by an Onix. Electivire tried to fire off electricity whenever he was certain his blood had returned to normal and he could move his body again. Now that Saturn had no Pokemon to care for, he had let Glalie unleash a cold so powerful even Jellicent's Will-O-Wisps froze and retreated before they could make it to him.

Glalie was strong, true, but lacking on the technical side of things, and that was the way to win. Beyond freezing things with focus or firing off icy breaths and beams, he had not done much past the dark ice he occasionally used to try to poke holes into Cass' barrier. The psychic was barely holding on, and I had to call Honey over so his Protect would serve us again, but it was slow, now, almost lethargic. To be honest, Saturn hadn't used that many complicated techniques at all.

We were going to lose if things kept going this way. Ice was as much of an offensive tool as a defensive one, I had figured, and I had little experience fighting with the type beyond my fight with Candice and the occasional bout with Denzel.

Here was our pivot. Our opening.

"Taunt."

Ordinally, this might not have been that effective, but this was anything but ordinary. Glalie was calling upon a power that was not his own, and he was almost drunk on it. Jellicent's eyes darkened, and he isolated the ice type's anger. I saw it happen clear as day, the raging inferno sprouting inside of Glalie and the way the ice type's attacks suddenly grew even stronger.

Jellicent never unfroze, this time.

Sweetheart stomped a foot against the ground, and countless pillars of sharp rock rose below Glalie, hitting the ice type before he could manifest another wall of ice.

One, though.

One rose next to Honey, and the electric type grabbed on, each finger puncturing a hole into the rock. He took off into the sky as electricity coursed through him and down his legs.

He gave everything for that single jump.

The Stone Edge shattered, and in an instant, he was there with his arms glowing white. The Cross Chop was so fast I only saw Glalie float down to the ground. When I blinked, Electivire was already back on the ground, his body half-frozen and limp. Not unconscious, but shivering on the ground. Sweetheart created a fissure with a small Earthquake and finished off Glalie before he could recoup with whatever ice bullshit he might have been working with.

The Snowscape was still there, but it stopped raging. The wind stopped sweeping across the snow, and ice Glalie had been controlling turned lifeless.

It was over.

I asked Maylene to recall my Pokemon save for Claydol. I hadn't noticed, but Claydol was on the verge of unconsciousness. They warned me as much, and I imagined them playing an alarm sound, but I'd need them for just a little while longer to communicate. My hearing was slowly coming back again, or at least I believed so, but I didn't want to think about the fact that it was only doing so on my right.

"Tell her to release Sunshine. We'll heal him up."

Maylene hesitated. She'd seen how much pain he'd been in. How his arms had been utterly crushed, ice had penetrated past his shell and his legs had been poisoned to the point that they wouldn't be able to support his weight. Yet she did so anyway. She didn't know the reason, not yet. Sunshine was in a sorry state, but relief flooded his veins when he saw we were alive. The fact that I wasn't a sobbing mess meant that the rest of them were alive, too. Wounded, but alive. I hoped his Pokeball would be enough to keep Angel from withering completely…

I watched Maylene spray him as best she could, but the amount of potion it took to get him standing meant that I was almost out. I'd saved some for the rest of the team too, but after that, it would be over. If I ran into Mars in this state… I wouldn't even have a chance to avoid her, let alone fight back. The fight had me breathing through a lot of oxygen instead of my usually relaxed state as well, and if we were going to keep being lost as we'd been before, I was going to run out before making it. For good measure, Maylene sprayed Cass as well, though it would be less effective here given that exhaustion from maintaining defenses and working the earth for so long was that they were on the verge of passing out.

That was if we survived Regice. It wasn't looking very good in that regard.

Well, then.

Walking was a laborious affair. Each step felt like I was able to collapse, but I refused any help. Sunshine and I had to do this on our own, or it wouldn't be right. He tried to summon warmth, but I could barely feel it. Like when a trickle of sunlight was on your face in the middle of winter, but the cold enveloped you anyway. My legs felt heavy as if encased in lead, and the frigid air pushed back against my body, but eventually,

Eventually, I made it to Saturn. He was encased in ice, still, the structure sustained by Regice's power and the general cold. He looked at us in disbelief, his mouth trembling at so much death, and the shaking was accentuated by the cold. His grunts, he didn't care about. I assumed they were fodder to him, and since they would be reborn anyway, why bother himself about them dying?

But then why did that same feeling not apply to his Pokemon?

I smiled tiredly beneath my mask. There really was nothing like the feeling one got after winning a fight such as this. It wasn't the elation of a Gym Battle or a fight against a friend or rival— the rush of endorphins that had you feeling that you were on top of a cloud, but a deep satisfaction that was almost physical. You felt your heart pump in your chest, the blood seeping down your face, the hurt all over your body.

You felt alive, and in the moment, that was enough to make you happy.

Of course, I'd be feeling different had I lost or anyone had died, but the point was, I hadn't.

I licked my lips. "Break it open."

It took a while.

But less time than I expected now that Glalie lay unconscious in the snow. A concentrated Focus Blast was all it took for the ice to begin cracking, after which Saturn crawled to the corner of his self-made cage and huddled himself into a ball. When the block of hollow ice collapsed, I'd regained enough of my hearing to at least hear it shatter, but it looked like I was going to have to use Cass to hear him speak.

And he was speaking. Running his mouth faster than I'd ever seen any lips move.

"Translate that for me, will you? To Maylene, as well, unless she asks you to stop. She needs to understand, or she might try to stop me. She's too kind."

"—don't— don't— get away from me!" Oh wow, they were doing what I assumed was his voice, too. It was deeper than I thought it'd be, but somewhat nasal. Smooth. "You get nothing by killing me!" Tears were frozen down his cheeks, and he was dangerously pale.

"It's either you die now or you die later. What's the difference?"

I meant this in many ways. Whether the world survived or ended, whether he froze to death or I killed him, whether he lived through this with the world, and the League executed him, there was simply no scenario where he was going to live, ever. He had no uses, and was the architect of too much death.

"Plus, won't you get to live in your New World?" I continued with a drawl. "Or maybe you're a coward who's scared to die even though you spewed your poison and converted thousands to your cause."

To my frustration, he did not flinch, nor was he rendered speechless. "Of course, I believe in the cause, you wretched little witch!" he yelled. His mood swung with a lot more force than I was used to. "You couldn't even come close to understanding—"

He squealed and brought his hands up to his face when Sunshine took a step forward. The dragon looked at me expectantly, asking for when I'd be done with this entire speech so he could do the deed.

"Sorry," I grunted. "Well, I'll have to cut this short, but first… you know, you could have killed me had you had your Glalie rampage from the start. Your Pokemon would have died in the process, and hell, you might have, too, but I'd be gone." Continuous shivers passed through me, yet my tone was as solid as steel. "You doubt your every action, don't you? You seem like the type to constantly question if what you're doing is right or enough. I could tell when we fought. There were no risks in your techniques."

Saturn said nothing. He was preparing himself to die.

"What did that stem from?" I tilted my head at him. "Cyrus, maybe?"

"Absolutely not! Cyrus is—"

"Friends? Maybe your parents." Ah, I struck a nerve. "I see. I get it." A beat passed. "Well then, he wouldn't have wanted this," I said, looking at Sunshine. "But this is for Kamaile Nalanie, for Drampa, for Mandibuzz, and for Oranguru. You die alone. You die in pain. And in the end, your screams fade like just another echo swallowed whole by Coronet."

"I'll have the last laugh, in the end. I'll be reborn—"

"Cut him off."

I sniffed and walked away, not bothering to turn back toward the Commander.

"You aren't going to look?" Maylene asked through Claydol.

I sighed. "No."

She held onto her wounded shoulder and tension left her. "I thought I was going to have to fight you about that."

I'd failed to save any people too deep in the cult to realize. I'd killed dozens of humans and Pokemon and only managed to spare a few who their trainers recalled in their last moments.

"I'm tired."

Not sad, but tired.

Saturn died away from us.

We did not hear his screams.

A minute later, Sunshine walked up behind us and looked more satisfied than he'd been ever since I'd caught him.

The deed was done.



It was two hours later, and we were about to die.

I shivered against Honey's fur. He'd wrapped Maylene and I in a hug to converse warmth, but it was barely doing anything. Every few seconds, Maylene would see my head slump and hit me in the head to keep me awake, but there was only so long that could work for. Sunshine was lethargic, unable to move and coating us with warmth that might as well not have existed.

Were the others in the same position? Huddling for crumbs of warmth, and freezing to death?

Was Cece?

I wished she was here.

I'd risked her. I'd risked everything for Sweetheart. Would they forgive me when I told them?

There were sounds. Voices around me I knew to be nothing but delirium.

I—

I wanted to live.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R
 
Last edited:
Chapter 313 - The Boy Champion
CHAPTER 313 - THE BOY CHAMPION

The world around Craig was frozen. The air within the cavern had turned bitterly cold, so much so that each breath emerged as a visible plume, curling and twisting before turning to frosty flakes instead of dissipating into the air like he'd grown used to during winters. Delicate frost patterns bloomed like alien flowers, their fractal designs intricate and fleeting. It was beautiful, and almost hypnotic, in a way. It was a sight that drew him in, that made him not want to blink, that made him want to stay up here forever, where he belonged—

A hand on his shoulder. Craig nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt the touch. It felt odd to say, but touch hurt. Touch was warmth where cold had been moments earlier. Touch was intimacy, touch was antithetical to what he had experienced for the past… Arceus knew how long, standing guard in front of a massive gate with seven blinking orbs; little lights that frantically winked when they should have been dark, at least according to Flint. He'd fought Regice once before.

"Easy there, pal," the red-haired Elite Four member said. "Relax a little bit, alright?" He patted him twice on the shoulder. Surrounding him was his entire array of fire types: Magmortar, Flareon, Houndoom, Infernape, Rapidash, Ninetales and Arcanine. They were the only reason they were alive here and not frozen to death. "It'd be better if you were calm when the time came. Right, Aaron?"

The kid— and it was weird to think he was another member of the Elite Four— was crouched with his gloved hands on the stony ground like some kind of animal. He was watching the door with a shit-eating grin that had ticked off Craig a few times. Why look so excited, when they'd been thrown to their deaths? Even Flint looked unsettled, and Craig knew that. He'd talked to the man a few times in his career and he was usually a lot more jovial than this. Around them wasn't just a cave, it was the remains of a scientific outpost used to study Regice which had been abandoned when the entire mountain had been evacuated. Frozen papers, files, metallic chairs and coffee mugs were strewn about, showing that the personnel here had left in a hurry. The lightbulbs above had popped and were long turned off. Scientific equipment, including seismographs, thermometers, and high-resolution cameras, were left behind, many encased in a thin layer of frost that rendered screens and lenses nearly opaque. Echoes within this massive, icy corridor carried no sound of dripping water. It was far too cold for that.

Craig shivered. It was eerily silent, save for the occasional hum or word from Aaron or Flint.

"Aaron! Focus, you little shit!" Flint yelled.

The boy blinked. "Huh? What? Sorry."

"Arceus, only you could look like a kid on his birthday at the prospect of fighting this damn ice golem…"

Aaron beamed. "So wait, I know you gave us a full briefing before coming here, but is it sentient? Like, can it think on its own?" Aaron shot up to his feet, teeth shining like silver. "Or can it think, but it runs on a set of instructions it can't deviate from?!"

Flint sighed. "Oh, brother."

Aaron tried kicking Flint in the shin, but the fire type master didn't have to move. His Infernape blocked Aaron's foot and glared at him for being so aloof when their lives would be on the lines shortly. Craig could relate, and he dipped his head to the fighting type in thanks. It ignored him.

"You have access to those files," Flint continued.

"Yeah but I didn't think it'd be so interesting until I actually saw the place with my own two eyes, and Cynthia runs me ragged because she wants me to take over at some point." And his eyes seemed to quite literally be shining. "If the world actually ends or I die, I'll be happy I got to see something new before it does! I gotta take it all in before I'm chained to a desk, you feel me? Or I guess even more chained than I already am."

Craig had read up on people affected by their own Pokemon, and he'd met a few of them throughout his career. People online who paid attention to that kind of thing, which wasn't a lot, made lists about the most warped— Valerie from Kalos, Bruno from Indigo, Allister or Opal from Galar— but because Aaron had only been in the Elite Four for almost two years now and he was a relative unknown, he hadn't been in any of those lists.

They were wrong. Craig was good with people. He knew what made them tick within the first few minutes of a conversation, and it was that, which had carried him to where he was today. Aaron craved the new to such an extent that he did not care if it would kill him. He was brusque and impatient, and threw away people who lost his interest as soon as they bored him. This was the person who was supposed to succeed Cynthia?

Flint rubbed the back of his head, and Magmortar chortled. It was a disturbing, distorted sound that sound like something deep beneath the earth. "I think Cynthia underestimated your gusto. Well, so long as you're focused."

"C'mon, answer my question."

Flint wiped the frosted snot from his nose with the back of his hand and rubbed it on his climbing gear. "They're theories, and I'm not the best at explaining 'em, but, uh, what the people who worked here figured out," he scanned the surrounding laboratory with a quick look, "or think they figured out, was that Regice is sentient and generally independent, but runs on a set of rules. Do you know about those fancy AIs they make in Lumiose? By that Gym Leader?"

"Boring," Aaron pouted.

"Okay. 'Guess you don't need the rest of the explanation, then—"

"No! No, come on!"

Craig wanted out. He wanted out so bad.

Flint grinned. "Okay, well, don't interrupt next time. See, Regice was built by the big guy up in Snowpoint as a protector to keep itself safe while it slept or was busy dragging landmasses around, same as the other golems, but it's advanced enough to have an agenda of its own, and its own thoughts, et cetera… yeah, that's how you say that."

"So it can feel things." Aaron tilted its head. "Is it sad, you think? To be separated from its creator for so long? Every time it wakes up, it gets knocked back to sleep despite its best efforts. It has freedom, yes, but it's fleeting. Like it can almost taste it, but it's always pulled away at the last instant." His head swayed from side to side, and Craig didn't miss Rapidash sneering at Aaron, who was oblivious to the fact that half of Flint's team disliked him— or maybe he just didn't care. Craig wasn't a fan, either, but then again he was just a kid, so he couldn't fault him too much. Maybe he'd grow out of it. Opal had, after all. "Maybe that freedom being so fleeting is what makes it valuable, though. Do you think we can have freedom… freedom inflation? It's like, you give someone their favorite meal every day, and they get sick of it, right—"

"Relax," Flint sighed. He ruffled the boy's hair. "Focus. You're our ticket out of here, kid. If we die because you hesitated 'cause you wanted to get a better look at Regice, I'll haunt your folks when what remains of me turns into a ghost."

"You think you dying by yourself would turn you into a ghost?" Aaron snorted. "Talk about having a big head, though I guess that isn't new for you."

"What? Come on, I have a lot of projects…"

"All you do is fight things and shirk more of your paperwork to me. Craig, let me tell you, this guy is the laziest—"

"Should we attack first?"

Craig's words had been like a bucket of cold water had dropped on their heads. The banter stopped, the cold seemed to get to them just a little more, and Flint's back straightened.

"Right now, it's getting colder, but if we force Regice to wake up, it'll get worse even faster," he replied with a grim look. It looked wrong on his face. "I know we're all on edge, but we're here to buy time. It'd be best to just wait for it to wake up on its own."

He nodded. "Fine."

Part of him— no, all of him wished that Coronet being agitated didn't mean Regice just woke up, and that whatever was going on behind those stone slabs of a door would revert itself on its own. He'd been good at ignoring problems, when he'd first started out. His hand went to Roxie's Pokeball, and he remembered her as a little Bagon. Knowing that Aaron's curiosity was insatiable and he was in no mood to talk, he closed his eyes and recalled his childhood.



Salt clings to his nostrils and he hears the sea batter the brick walls of Canalave's canal off in the distance. It's slightly past noon, and the streets are packed with people going out for lunch. Sometimes, Craig would make a game of trying to figure out their deal from just a look from his backyard, and he'd think of how he'd approach them in a conversation. Why is that man walking so quickly? Does he only have an hour-long lunch break, or is he in a hurry for something else? Why is the usual Fearow that hangs on the roof of the nearby office building not here today? Why does this Falinks have eight individuals instead of the usual six, and why are they wandering the city streets on their own? Why is this woman laughing while talking on her phone?

Why is this girl his age looking at her Pokeball like it hit her?

Okay, that one, he understands.

Today, his game is cut short. His father opens the door with Lauren holding his hand. His father is a stout man whom Craig is already taller than, even at fifteen, but their hair is the exact same. Short and as dark as the night sky. His old man adjusts his glasses as Lauren tries to pull away her hand from him. She's never liked physical contact, even as a baby. There are more signs, and Craig's mother wants to check for a diagnosis for autism of some kind, but his dad is resistant to the idea. It's caused a lot of fights and yelling.

He kept saying Lauren is normal, like he was ashamed of her.

"Let her go, Dad," Craig says, a little weaker than he would have liked. "We're in the yard, she's safe to wander."

His father grimaces, and for a moment, Craig thinks he's going to fight him, but he relents with a sigh. Lauren looks like she's been freed from prison, and she beams at Craig. His chest feels warm.

"Thank you Cwaig," she whispers. She doesn't speak very much, except when talking about Pokemon or battling. She's very smart about it, for a six-year-old. Smarter than Craig was when he was ten.

"No prob'," he replies, and watches her grab a small, digital camera that's strapped around her shoulder. With it, she begins to take pictures of passing Pokemon to put in her album later. She draws the ones she really likes in her picture book, and she's pretty good at it, for her age.

His father leans against the fence and takes a deep breath. "You know, I… I'm sorry for how I've been to her."

That takes him aback. "Huh?"

"I've been pretty horrible— and I want to blame work, or… or stress, but I've just been a bad father to her."

"Oh."

Well, it's hard to know how to respond to that, even if he somewhat agrees. To him, he's always been great. Said that he would go places, and believed in him so much that he used all of his connections to get him a Bagon from the Hunters in Solaceon at a very generous price. They could afford it— his father works as a City Councillor and had invested his money very smartly, while his mother is one of the best heart surgeons in Canalave. He had the connections, and she made most of the money.

Not that he'd used his Bagon appropriately anyway. Roxie liked him well enough, but listening to whatever he said in battle was another matter entirely. Four months into his first Circuit, and all he had was Byron's badge, and he hadn't caught a single Pokemon yet. Tried, yes, but succeeded, no. His throw and aim is too horrible for it no matter how much he practices and Roxie's too lazy to fight wild Pokemon most of the time.

"Uh, I mean I'm glad!" Craig quickly answers. He watches Lauren snap a picture of a group of Pidove flying overhead to distract himself. "Yeah, that's great. You talked with Mom?"

"Apologized, mostly. I'll apologize to Lauren too, when she can understand, but I actually wanted to talk about you. I didn't think you'd come back so soon after leaving the city. You've got your badge, don't you?"

Craig winces. He expects his Dad to yell at him. Something like 'we got you a Bagon, and all you can do in four months is get one badge?!' or 'We spent all of this on you and you can't be assed to win' or 'I think battling isn't for you and we should look into getting you formed for a job like your friend George from High School.' Instead, he smiles and pats him on the shoulder.

"I don't know much about battling, son, and I want you to know I believe in you as much as I did before you went on this journey, but I need to know if you're making use of your time efficiently. Hanging out around the house is nice, and I'm happy to see you again, but…" his father rubs his chin and ponders what to say. "All you're doing is staying home and browsing trainer magazines or your internet."

He cringes at 'your internet'.

"I'll leave soon. I just needed a reset to figure out how to beat Roark and get through to Roxie."

Roark is the new Oreburgh Gym Leader, and he's a hard ass despite the fact that they're basically the same age. Craig is certain the only reason he hasn't been fired yet is because he's Byron's son, and he's been a major block for new trainers. Plus, seeing someone his age so successful already makes his stomach hurt. He had considered skipping him, but the truth is he's terrified of going through Eterna Forest, even if the grass type Gym Leader in Eterna is considered one of the easier ones because of how gentle she is.

"What I do know is people," his father continues as he leans against their white picket fence. "Connections are important, son. The most important aspect of a man's life. How else do you think I got you Roxie?"

He knows. He's heard the story a million times.

"You're saying I should be doing… outreach?"

"Exactly. Meet people, Craig. Meet people and network," he says. "Even if you don't progress as fast as others, you should still meet people. That'll go a long way, trust me."

"I guess…" he pauses, swallowing something in his throat. A cold gust of wind rushes through their yard, and he shifts around. "Dad, I want to be a trainer, but… it's hard. I know so much, but it's— what's the point of knowing step fifty if you don't know step one?"

He feels his Dad's warm hand rub the back of his neck. He brings Craig close and kisses his forehead. "I'd give you advice if I could, but that's out of my wheelhouse, son. A man has to walk his own path."

"I just gotta figure out how to get Roxie to understand that we should work together. Half the time, she's too lazy to fight, and when she wants to fight, she does her own thing, and she's not very smart. Don't tell her I said that, though."

His father snorts.

"It's not funny!" Craig yells, all defensive. "It friggin' blows."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out in due time, son. Your mother and I will help you for as long as you need it."

That's not what he wants to hear right now, but Craig smiles anyway. "...thanks."

He looks to the sky. "You've stumbled, I won't lie. But that's okay, kid. Not everyone can be a Cynthia. You've got to find your own rhythm. You're a harder worker than all of those kids laughing at you."

Craig's eye twitches. There are… a lot of people who liked to make fun of him for having gotten a dragon from his parents, yet still failing so terribly. Most of them had surpassed him already, and they were part of the reason he'd left Oreburgh.

So frustrating.

They speak for a while, until his father has to go inside and help his mother cook lunch. Craig hesitates to release Roxie, and despite knowing it would bring a headache, he looks to his sister and calls out to her.

"Hey, Lauren!"

It takes a few tries to get her to realize he's speaking to her, but when she looks at him, she glares. A tiny Pichu had walked up just beyond the fence, and his yelling scared it off.

"Stupid," she insults him with a clenched fist. Tears build up to the corner of her eyes, and Craig scrambles to make things right.

Roxie the Bagon appears within their backyard in a flash of scarlet, and instantly, Lauren is smiling again. The dragon is, too. For some reason, she likes hanging out with her more than she likes hanging out with Craig. Probably because she doesn't order her around.

"Woxie!" Lauren beams, yelling for the first time today. She runs to the little dragon and stops her face only a few inches from her before she takes another picture. Craig is content to hover around the two. Roxie isn't aggressive, for a Bagon, and the problem with her had never been violence. "I missed you!"

Bagon… purrs like a Glameow and wiggles her little arms. Lauren tells her about her day in pre-school and about how she's already known all the types and what they were effective or not effective against 'forever' already and that she thinks the kids in her class are all stupid. Craig knows from his mother she got in trouble a week ago for calling another girl an idiot for not knowing what a Revavroom was.

"I watched your Gym Battle, Cwaig," she says to him. His heart sinks. "I watched it…" she stops to think, then looks to her fingers before counting out loud. She counts until she gets to fourteen, and Craig doesn't want to interrupt her. "Woxie was so cool when she took out that Bwonzow! But I have— I had a question."

"Sure thing," Craig says. He is extremely relieved she didn't mean his numerous attempts against Roark. To Lauren, he's still a great trainer, and shattering that image would hurt him.

"Why didn't she use… that fire thingie."

"Ember—"

"Embew! I knew it was called that," she huffs and crosses her arms.

"Well, that Bronzor has the ability Heatproof, and Roxie's Dragon Breath is a lot more powerful than her Ember, too, so we were better off holding off on the fire type moves," he explains. "But if Ember was stronger one could argue that it'd be better even with Heatproof because…" Roxie's eyes narrow at him, and he lets it go. It's best not to offend her today.

Lauren's look scares him. It's as if she's matured ten years and is absorbing every single ounce of information out of his mouth.

He stays with his baby sister for a while. He has dinner with his parents, and that night, he decides to talk to Roxie.

It doesn't go well. He gets angry, maybe a little too angry, and she thinks he can't bring her to the heights she deserves. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy. They can't work together, so they keep losing, and she keeps thinking it's all his fault and none of it is hers. Craig spirals— comparing himself to this or that person of his year. What Pokemon had they caught recently? How different was their training? How did they perform their last Gym Battle?

He takes it all in. Despite wanting to scream and slam his fist on his desk, he takes it all in and finds a calm he hasn't felt in months.

Connections.

He had to talk to more people. Some would laugh at him. Some would give him to cold shoulder. It didn't matter. This was his dream, and he wouldn't give up because he had stumbled at the starting line.

He would take them all in, too.

The next morning, he decided to leave for Oreburgh again.

Lauren cried. He could almost imagine her wails now.

"But I don't want Cwaig to leeaaaaaave—"




"Shit," Flint croaked. "I think it's time."

Craig opened his eyes again and was met with nothing but dreary, moist cold to replace the sun of Canalave. The lights on the massive slabs of ice-covered stone were all lit up, now, and a menacing wave of frost leaked from the slit at its center. Aaron was quicker on the draw, releasing all of his Pokemon that could fight at a distance and were excellent disruptors. Flygon, Yanmega, Dustox, Beautifly and Vespiquen. Craig ignored the instant buzzing in his head from Aaron's Vespiquen and released his own Pokemon, too. Hippowdon, Eelektross, Salamence, Typhlosion and Orbeetle for now, then Gyarados would come when they had more space to use. They were far enough away from the doors that they wouldn't get instantly frozen. Regice had a range— a sort of bubble where everything around it would reach zero Kelvin despite the fact that that was scientifically impossible. Everything in its vicinity would freeze in an instant, and any but the strongest of attacks would dissipate like they hadn't even existed in the first place, according to Flint, and that was why Regice always took the longest to deal with. The attacks that did hit, would be far weaker than they should be, and they would only do so because Type Energy went beyond science.

It wasn't quiet anymore. There came the subtle crackle of spreading ice, and their breaths combining into a loud hum. Sweat beaded on his forehead, but froze before it could trail down to his cheek. His throat felt dry and constricted, making it challenging to swallow past the lump of fear lodged there.

"Remember, no Teleportation, or you'll instantly be frozen," he whispered to Dot. "That means remote Teleportation is going to be useless too. Just keep a barrier around us and try to conserve as much heat as you can. This is going to be a long fight."

The Orbeetle's lights shone in her approving pattern, but she stayed quiet. She could have spoken, but was so, utterly focused on conserving energy that she would only do so when needed.

Seconds later, the doors slowly slid open. Cold mist slid from the opening and clung low to the ground. At first, Craig could only see the flashing lights within the cold and hear the noise it was making. A high-pitched scream that sounded like it'd be right at home in a glitching computer. Then, he saw its form. Huge, hulking pieces of ice given form. So ancient, yet so pristine that he could see the countless fractals inside of them even from this far—

A flurry of attacks of every type began, and Craig's body vibrated at the sheer amount of power that resonated through the cave, like he was sitting in front of a speaker in a concert. Regice was instantly hit, and the impacts hid it from view again, but retaliation didn't immediately fall upon them like Craig had expected. Regice was slow to act. Ice around the lab grew and shimmered, yes, but it did not try to kill them right away. Maybe it was because it had just woken up, or maybe there was another reason for it. Craig didn't care.

Regice's sluggishness was exasperated by the countless blasts that Aaron's bugs sent it in an attempt to overwrite the Legend with information. This was the key to their victory. Regice faltered, and Craig heard it crash into some kind of wall before it got its bearing again, and finally, the first shoe dropped.

Fighting a Legendary was less about countering moves and more about battling an element or a concept, Craig would quickly find out. It was not a beam of ice or a frosty breath that Regice drew upon, but the howling of a cold wind that would leave anyone out of their security zone frozen. Crystalline shields that were so pure they looked like windows. An endless hail with shards as large as his head. Blasts of pure Winter that were morbidly beautiful despite the fact that the cold seeped past Orbeetle's barrier every time it hit and he could barely stand. Their shield was less of a circular bubble and more of a multilayered, enormous wall that ran the entire width of the corridor, and it would be until they got more space. It was the demarcation within absolute zero and a temperature fit for the poles. Flint would sometimes order his Pokemon to attack or broad strategy, but was content to mostly watch and was more preoccupied with keeping Craig and Aaron's heads sharp. Aaron, meanwhile, managed every aspect of his Pokemon's movements. Dot was good enough to allow attacks to pass one way, but not the other.

Slowly, they were walking backwards, and Regice was advancing, though it was slowed massively thanks to a multitude of reasons, mostly Aaron. It stumbled in the air like a drunk man and when it screeched, it took everything Craig had not to lay down and give up. To not get lost in the cold.

It was a siren's song. A comforting, yet deadly and hypnotic power that commanded him to lay down and to be frozen as so many had been before.

He wouldn't. Couldn't. For Sinnoh, for his family, for his Pokemon, for his friends, for the world, he would remain standing no matter what comforting whispers Regice lay within his brain.

He had, after all, never been one to give up easily.



It is now six months into Craig's first Circuit, and he carries with him the Coal Badge. Every day, he polishes his badges with a wipe and metal polish. He doesn't understand what all the fuss about those new digital badges is about. What's the point of winning if you aren't going to be able to hold your badges between your fingers?

It was not a breakthrough with Roxie, which had afforded him the victory, but a lucky break. Roark had been sick with a nasty flu and had relegated his Leader duties to his trainers, meaning that he actually won… well, not easily, but it wasn't all that close. Roxie had handled that Cranidos quite well, keeping her distance instead of fighting it head-on like she usually would. Maybe she'd been tired of losing too. He spent a few weeks in Oreburgh speaking to trainers, still. He really should have started doing this sooner. For example, weeks ago there had been a party hosted by a second-year in a rented office north of the city to brainstorm ways to win against Roark, and there he had let himself truly shine. Craig knew things. He knew what moves each Pokemon had, he knew how to best counter Roark's anti-grass, water, and fighting tactics, and he was content to exchange ideas with others. There was a difference between knowing things and having the skill to implement them, but it still gained him quite a few favors, and he was good at remembering faces and names. Favors, his father would say, are more precious than any amount of money he could ever hope to make.

He left Oreburgh with newly gained confidence.

Of course, he had new Pokemon with him, too, but they were terrible fighters. A Tynamo that he had caught next to the Floaroma power plant because Cynthia had come back from Unova with an Eelektross, and the idea of owning the same Pokemon as her was too cool to pass up. There was also an unplanned Magikarp who he had saddled himself with on accident while trying to fish for a water type to beat Roark near Floaroma.

Garrett the Magikarp. Paige the Tynamo.

They're both horrible fighters. Craig had considered letting Magikarp go, when he'd first caught him on accident, but the fish had a look in his eye you couldn't help but pity, and so he saddles himself with him every day.

At least he's hilarious. A nice break from Roxie's antics.

Paige is shy and mostly keeps to herself. She doesn't really like Roxie or Garrett. To be honest, she doesn't really like Craig, either. He knows why. He caught her by surprise and captured her before she could ever realize what was happening. It's his fault, really, but every time he asks if she wants him to release her back where he found her, she shakes her head for some reason.

They always taught him that to capture a Pokemon, you weaken it and throw the ball. It was ingrained in every kid's mind, and if they hated you for it, well, you waited until they came around unless they really didn't want to work with you, in which case you released them. He'd fallen victim to that idea, too. It wasn't right.

As terrified as he is of Eterna Forest, he wants to push to get three badges by the end of the year. Three is better than the average of two for a first-year, and being average is what he dreads, so he makes his way to the Ranger Outpost with only his Pokemon to keep him company. He's considered traveling with someone, but every time he tries, he realizes they're better than him, and he hates it.

No, that's wrong. Some of them are worse, but they all progress faster. Pick up things that he just can't.

The Ranger Outpost is just like in the pictures. An area surrounded by an electric fence that mostly acts as a deterrent, with a few buildings here and there. A Pokemon Center and Mart, a few buildings for people living there, and the Ranger Station itself towering over every structure built. Most of all is full of trainers, and that makes his face warm up with excitement. Instead of training like he should, he spends the next day speaking with anyone he could find. Yes, hello, my name is Craig, what's yours? Who's your favorite Gym Leader? Who's your favorite trainer? No, someone other than Cynthia, that's cheating. Mine is Crasher Wake! Have you heard about the weird stuff going down in Hoenn with Aqua and Magma? I hope their Champion has a handle on that, ecoterrorists are nasty. Oh, that's your starter? They look cool, do they have a name?

He remembers each one, and evidently, he makes an impression, because that night, he's invited to a meeting with five other trainers. They want him in their group to cross the forest.

"Six should be a good number. Not high enough to be too chaotic, but still large enough to deter most things if we handle it correctly," a girl says. Their leader, evidently. She speaks like one, and the entire group looks at her.

What was her name again?

He never forgets…

He feels cold, all of a sudden. He remembers that she had a small scar on her shoulder, that she had a Hoothoot, a Kakuna and a Cherubi, that for the first time, she made him feel at home about the prospect of traveling with people who were almost all more put-together than he was.

Craig looks within the depths of his mind, and worlds blur. Regice in one, his childhood in the other, and when ice leaks through Dot's barrier around Dustox like it has a mind of its own and freezes the bug in place, he remembers why he forgot her.

He never goes with them. That night, a group of trainers come back from the forest injured to the point that some will have to give up on their career, and that makes him anxious. Too anxious to show up the following day. He leaves the outpost at dawn and decides to hike back to Floaroma.

A week later, he looks the girl up.

She died in the forest.

He forgets her so it doesn't hurt.




"Dustox!" Aaron called out. He whipped out his Pokeball in a flash, and the bug type disappeared. Craig didn't know if it was alive, or dead, but it would depend how deep the freezing had gone.

He ordered Hippowdon to shift the earth beneath the ice, and tons upon tons of mud swallowed Regice whole to buy them some time, but it just froze within a second, and the most time they could have gained from that is even less. It had been an hour since starting to fight Regice, and they finally managed to exit the frozen lab. A vast cavern opened up to them, which meant that they would finally be able to get space, and that meant Garrett could come out and fight. Flint, Aaron and Craig all climbed on Roxie's back and fled a mile away, recalling all of their Pokemon but Dot so she could keep them warm.

They landed on a small platform, and instantly, Flint brought out his fire types again. A mere thirty seconds without them, and Craig could barely move his hands. When Aaron did the same, Craig followed suit, including Gyarados. The enormous sea serpent grew, grew and grew until he roared at Regice, but ice grew around his mouth and sewed it shut the moment it came into view. In an instant, the cavern transformed into a place fit for winter. Ice, snow and hail covered the entire area within just a few seconds.

Flint was too focused on defense to strike, save for his Drifblim and Steelix, which he had now brought to the fight, and so the majority of the firepower was Craig's job. He ordered Gyarados to break the ice, but it was only Roxie's Fire Blast, combined with a stream of magma from Flint's Magmortar, that managed to melt it even if those two attacks hurt Gyarados, too. He bit his tongue so hard he tasted metal and told Garrett to use the largest Hyper Beam he could gather.

Garrett inhaled.

Charged particles of energy crackled and snapped, casting eerie shadows across his scaly hide. The air around the beast thickened, tinged with the unmistakable scent of plasma. The light merged into a swirling vortex of white energy that seemed to distort the world around it, and a lucky blast of disturbing buzzing from Vespiquen, Beautifly and Yanmega bought enough time for Garrett to let the attack loose. The colossal torrent of energy erupted from his gaping maw, a blazing beam of pure destructive power that tore through the air with unstoppable force. The light was blinding, a radiant column of incandescence that seared Craig's eyes even if they were reflexively closed. When he opened them, he saw that the Hyper Beam had for a moment torn through Winter and hit Regice, tearing through its aura of cold and protective ice shield and causing it to explode in more frost that looked like flowers.

The ground around the point of impact had cracked with spiderweb patterns radiating out as the frozen surface met the heated energy. Yet, as the smoke and steam cleared, Regice stood largely unscathed, its icy form glowing even brighter against the scorched earth around it.

An hour since the fight had begun.

They were just beginning.



It's going to be his second year soon, and his first one is over. It feels like more time than that has passed, but his mom keeps telling him that his career has just begun and that he has nothing to worry about. His parents get tickets for the Conference that year so they can spend an entire month on the Lily of the Valley island. It's his third time at a Conference— his first since becoming a trainer— and it's just as grand as the last two. Lauren is just as enthralled in the fights as he is, and she draws the ones she likes the best in her picture book. Plus, he's a trainer now, and it's here that he can possibly make connections even if he's not a participant. This year, he's rooting for a generalist called Frankie Hubbard with a Luxray as his ace. He's always liked generalists, but maybe that's because he wanted to be the best one. He sits on a bench on the side of the pedestrian road while his parents have gone to get a few snacks to hold them over until today's match, watching Frankie's previous match on repeat on his small flip-phone. The quality's awful, but he's grown used to it by now.

"Pfft. Frankie v Samantha, really?"

Craig turns toward the voice behind him and sees a girl his age, or maybe a smidge younger. She carries a sleeping Skrelp in her arms and sneers at his screen. Her hair is white, and he doesn't know if it's dyed or natural, and it's arranged in a bob-cut that looks awkward on her, like she went to the hairdresser to look nice for the Conference and they completely failed. She straddles the line between gaunt and thin, and her skin is rather pale.

"Ever heard of personal space?" he counters. What's her deal, anyway?

"I'm just saying," she says. Her voice is a little flat. Like a text-to-speech program. "Frankie won, but he doesn't have a chance of making it past the semis. I'm guessing that you're rooting for him, seeing as you're forcing yourself to watch his battle on this antique device that you call a phone."

His eyes meet hers. They're hazel. "Okay. Who do you think is going to win, then?" he asks.

"Easy. Aiden Scott."

Craig scoffs a little too loud, and her Skrelp awakes. It glares at him, but she runs a finger on its head, soothing it. "Sorry, but I mean, Aiden? Really? Mister 'I can barely get out of the group stages' Aiden Scott?"

"His group was bad for him," she deadpans. "He was put with one of his traveling companions who knew exactly how he fought, so he lost, and the second one could have gone either way, but he was fighting a veteran while he's only a third-year. The rest of his fights were smooth sailing."

"His team blows. He has a Bibarel!"

The girl wrinkles her nose. "Well, he's fighting among the best and you're not, so maybe it's your team that sucks." Her eyes wander to his three Pokeballs, and he stands to stare daggers at her.

Wait. She's taller than him.

"What about you? I don't see your little Skrelp here going very far."

He thinks his words will hurt her. Instead, she laughs, breaking her hardy stare for the first time and injecting emotion into her voice. "I'm not even a first-year, you idiot!" she doubles over and nearly crushes her Skrelp, but stops when the poison type exhales at her. Yes, exhales. There isn't a better way to describe it. "I'm starting this September. Meanwhile, what are you? You look like someone with self-confidence issues, so let me guess, you had a less-than-successful first-year and now you cling to hope that this year will be different."

His throat tightens.

She's good at hurting. Far better than he is.

"Okay. If you're so sure if yourself, why don't we have a little bet." He tries to sound confident, but knows she sees right through him. "If Aiden wins, 10k to you. If Frankie wins, 10k to me. If neither wins, we draw."

"Sure. I'll never turn down free cash, and I'll need it for my journey."

His teeth gnash. "What's your name?"

"Sarah Newman. Yours?"

"Craig Goodwill." His parents call out to him, and Lauren waves at him. "I gotta go. Uh, give me your number so I know you won't flake."

"Excuse me? So I know you won't flake," she repeats, this time aimed at him.



Why did he always think about her every time he was close to dying? The first few times he'd gone to train in Coronet and he'd had a bunch of nasty run-ins with Pokemon wanting nothing but for him to leave, he thought about her. When he was attacked by Team Galactic near Snowpoint and got clawed on the leg by that Purugly because he'd tried to reason with them instead of allowing Roxie to fight, he'd thought of her.

Magmortar aimed his cannon upward, from which magma erupted and gathered in the sky, floating there as if it was levitating. It pooled to the ceiling of the cavern, far enough from Regice to be allowed to exist, but even then it took the fire type all of his strength and concentration for the next move to work. The magma burst down toward Regice beyond the speed barrier like rain, cutting into Regice and warming the entire area enough to allow Flint's Steelix to hit the Legend with a fiery tail. The impact itself probably didn't hurt Regice all that much, but it was enough to send the ice type away and gain them a little distance.

For it, Steelix's tail froze and shattered with a bare look from Regice before it could retreat back and keep throwing out Fire Blasts. The battler in Craig instantly noticed that the steel type struggled to stabilize itself with so much of its body missing, but Regice was no battler. It was a living being, yes, but it embodied too much to notice the little things like a Steelix with balancing issues. Aided by Typhlosion and Magmortar, magma fell upon the world and met frost, and Dot was quick to shield every Pokemon outside their bubble, fitting each with something akin to a roof above their heads.

She'd come far in a year. She was micromanaging this entire fight, be it protecting everyone at once, keeping them warm with the help of Flint's fire types.

Ice vaporized to mist, but froze before it could rise a mere foot from the ground. It gathered around Regice, spinning ever closer to its pristine skin, and then exploded in a burst of countless bullets of ice that shredded through rock and wounded Pokemon. They were large at first, but then split, split and split again until they were the size of bullets, and tiny projectiles at high speed were exactly how to break through psychic barriers. Coincidence, he thought. Garrett's entire right side was wrought with frozen-over wounds. Craig's hand hovered over his Pokeball, but the Gyarados was still willing to fight, and his Hyper Beams were sorely needed to win the battle.

No, this was no battle.

It was a struggle. Never had he imagined a Pokemon could be this powerful, let alone that he would see one, yet here he was. The constant, high-frequency glitching from Regice didn't stop from their constant barrage of attacks. Instead, it picked up and filled his head with thoughts of surrender.

Fear.

He feared how comforting cold could be.

Roxie, who had been standing with the group, looked anxiously at him, but he asked her to keep hitting from a distance. She growled and eyed the mega-ring around his neck.

Not yet.



He spends the entire month of June with Sarah Newman.

Most of it is filled with banter that she always wins, but it's enjoyable nonetheless. His parents are annoying and tease him about it. After all, it's common for young trainers to start dating with other trainers they meet on the road, but this isn't like that. Most of their conversations are filled by talking about every trainer under the sun. For the first time, Craig feels like someone can keep up with his knowledge of obscure battles that took place over thirty years ago or personalities in other regions. When he talks to Sarah, he feels like he's talking to someone who sees beyond her own nose, beyond her comfort zone, and that's refreshing.

Still, June came to an end, and as it turned out, she knew what she was talking about— barely. Frankie Hubbard made it to the finals that year, battling Aiden Scott, but lost in a nail-biting 6-5. Craig was a man of his word, and so he sent her the ten-thousand pokedollars, which would have been a huge sum had his parents not given him money for his birthday. When she gets the money, she grins and says she wouldn't have had the cash to pay him if he'd won the bet.

He's learned a lot about her. One, she's never known her real parents and been raised along with six other foster siblings in Jubilife. She was the oldest, and the only one who wanted to be a trainer. Two, she could read people really well, to the point that it freaked him out sometimes. Three, she'd had her Skrelp for over a year already, having found her in Jubilife's sewers when she'd been out to save her little brother who'd been there due to a dare from his 'friends' from school.

That means that they're way more in sync than he'd been with his own Pokemon at the start of his journey, and hell, they were more in sync than he was with them even now. They'd practiced battling at the Conference in one of the public arenas and while she never won, she learned with each loss and got closer and closer to a win every time.

Ordinarily, he would have pushed her away. He did not.

It was until September, at the start of the Circuit, that they met again. He'd gone to Jubilife early to meet her a few days before the Circuit started again. A one-on-one between her Skrelp and his Bagon.

He loses.

Craig keeps up the smile. He congratulates her and says she'd come far. At first, he thinks nothing of it. He knows she's progressing faster than he is. He works hard, but she works just as much and sees things in a fight that he would never think of. The Circuit begins in earnest. He wins against Roark on his second try and Byron on his first while she wins against both on her second try, and this time, he crosses Eterna Forest with Sarah after much convincing on her part and does so without incident. He doesn't know if they'll still travel together beyond that. He kind of wants to ask her, but he fears rejection when he usually never does.

So he waits and hopes she asks him. They spend their time in Eterna together, but she beats the Gym on her second try while he's still stuck because he still mainly relies on Roxie for strength, whereas Sarah's caught a Ducklett that's as good as her Skrelp, and the synergy the three of them have on the field is incredible. She wins in a two-against-three without breaking a sweat the second time. He wants to ask her to stay, but he knows she wouldn't. She's far too driven for that.

And so, she leaves.

It takes him four tries to beat the Gym. He makes it through Coronet and catches a Hippopotas on the way to Mount Coronet, calling her Ippie. This time, he does it right. He knows he wants a Hippowdon for his team, and he spends a few days tracking a group off-route. She's the most curious of the herd, and he has to spend a week convincing her mother— the leader of the herd and the biggest Hippowdon— to let her come with him. He promises to bring her back every summer, and she allows her to leave with him to see the world.

When he crosses Coronet, he sees the hurt and the danger. An idea forms in his head of Rangers possibly giving lessons and guiding trainers before they're allowed to walk through the caves or Eterna Forest. He imagines Lauren in nine years walking the same path, and his fingers shake. He finds it awful that Sinnoh allows so many to die every year, and no one cares. There are small groups advocating for more security measures, few protests each year, but most people don't want to rock the boat, especially when Indigo to the south produces so many good trainers and have the most 'Champion-level' trainers of any country.

He needs to read up on politics.

He's doing this because he loves battling despite it all, but he also wants to be the Champion… one day. He thinks Cynthia is a step in the right direction compared to Radetic, but believes she should have copied the Unovan model on trainer safety, not just their government. Granted, they can be a little harsh on wild Pokemon, but there has to be a way to balance it and make everyone happy, right? He spends the day on the other side of the mountain looking at statistics for trainer deaths and injuries which are horribly difficult to find. From what he knows, Cynthia declassified them, unlike their neighbors down south, but it looks like the government is making it as difficult to get the data as possible.

There had been one hundred and seventy-six dead trainers during his first year, most of them being fifteen or sixteen-year-olds, and that wasn't counting the injuries or their dead Pokemon.

He tries to think of the girl from last year.

He can't remember her. He doesn't want to.

He reaches Hearthome and figures out what Pokemon Center Sarah's staying at. She's already beaten Fantina, again on her second try, and from the video he watched, she's caught a Basculin. Skrelp, Ducklett, Basculin— Craig wonders if she's going to be a water type specialist. The last time he asked, she said she was just going with the flow of things.

It takes two hours and thirty-three minutes for her to get to the lobby.

"Hey Sarah, funny seeing you here!" he says with a bright smile. "I just arrived actually, and I got myself a room. How about a fight? 3v3?"

She smiles at him. "You're on."

He loses.

Roxie works well with him, now. Garrett still can't fight, but he watches. Paige is an Eelektrik now, and she's supposed to counter her entire team. It doesn't matter. Sarah's Pokemon use little trails of water to divert electricity away from themselves before it can hit and she wipes the floor with her.

The gap is wider now than before.

…how?

"Good fight," she tells him. He clenches a fist. It wasn't a good fight at all. "Nice catch on that Hippopotas. Too bad Skrelp kind of screwed with her, but she has potential."

"Thanks…"

"I'd give you advice, but I know you wouldn't want it." Her hazel eyes look into his, and he can't maintain eye contact. "Good luck with Fantina, Craig."

A pattern forms.

He always gets to the next city just as she's about to leave it, asks for a battle, and gets wiped.

Solaceon. "Sarah, how about a fight? I wanna see where I currently stand."

"Sure thing."

He loses.

Veilstone. "I've come up with a strategy to win this time, I swear. It'll catch you off-guard."

"If you want to surprise me, don't tell me you have a new strategy to win, Craig."

"But you won't know what it is! It'll make you nervous."

"Let's just get to the arena."

She figures him out instantly and tells him that he needed to work on his poker face if he didn't want to be read like a book.

He loses.

Sunyshore. "Wait! Before you go, please give me a fight. I have a new Pokemon—"

Her hair flickers in the sun. "Munchlax. I saw. Sure, let's go."

"Okay, well I know about you too—" he sputters. "I know you have a Mantyke!"

She has something else, too. An amorphous pink blob that turned into her Dragalge and makes use of the poisonous algae she'd left in the field after fainting. He wants to scream. To ask her where the hell she got herself a Ditto. Instead, he stays quiet, his shoulders slump, and he congratulates her with a smile.

He loses.

He doesn't go past his fifth badge that year. Roxie evolves into a Shelgon, stops listening to him again and gets it in her head that she can fly in battle if she tries hard enough. Garrett still can't fight, Caleb the Munchlax is too weak since he's a recent capture, and Paige and Ippie aren't enough to beat the old, grizzled Gym Leader on their own. Sarah goes up to her seventh, winning against every Gym on her second try, and she has no time to test herself against the eighth in Snowpoint before the Conference starts.

Craig feels empty.




Craig felt numb. He'd started out terrified, but hoping. Hoping that this would be a winnable fight. It felt like an entire day had passed, but he knew that couldn't be the case, or all of their Pokemon would have collapsed from exhaustion. He'd been forced to release Caleb, his Snorlax, even if the normal type was terrible at fighting at a distance and his elemental attacks always dissipated into nothing before hitting Regice, so he was forced to support Hippowdon with Earthquake. The field was a mess of ice continuously broken up by Hippowdon and magma that cooled within a few seconds every time it was released.

Regice looked the exact same. Pristine with seven brightly lit eyes, though one was flickering, and moving just as fast as it usually did. That was normal, according to Flint, but it was difficult not to get demoralized. It hurt for Craig to keep his eyes open for too long, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to move his fingers and toes, yet the promise of comfort never left him.

Garrett finally fell, going limp against the ice and magma below him, and Craig recalled the Gyarados with haste. They were lucky Regice never locked in on a single opponent, or they would have lost far more Pokemon than just Flint's Drifblim and Aaron's Dustox. Regice seemed to move faster with time instead of slower, too, and it started mixing in electric attacks more powerful than Volkner's strongest Zap Cannon into its rotation of attacks, somehow mixing it into the concept of Winter.

It had to be now.

Craig clasped the necklace around his neck.

A surge of adrenaline coursed through his veins. His heart pounded against his ribcage, a symphony of excitement and anticipation and pain playing through his every nerve. A glow overtook Roxie, and her wings melded into a bloody crescent moon while her front legs atrophied.

She took flight in an instant, shaking the world below her.

Craig felt the cold wrapping around her wings, he saw through her eyes and could imagine the ice seeping past his— past her scales. He felt her pain as he felt her determination to see them through this. A turquoise light surged around the Mega Salamence, and a Hurricane spontaneously appeared around her. It was a protective bubble; the winds were powerful enough to throw back most of Regice's hail. The dragon shone through the dusty, icy winds and dove toward Regice—

A shockwave of sound hit Orbeetle's barrier, and Roxie slammed into Regice faster than Craig could see. The Legend reeled backward, and Roxie's entire body was frozen over by the time she swung back toward safety. With how fast she was, she was already far enough for it not to be lethal, her draconic aura having protected her from instant death. Draconic Surge was her strongest attack but also her strongest defense, and they'd stolen this right from Cynthia's Garchomp. She could simply refuse to fall.

She landed on the ground next to the little warmth Flint's Pokemon could give her and glowed slightly with Roost. Craig wiped the cold sweat off his forehead but only found trails of frost.

Then, she was off again. Here she was, the only Pokemon on the field capable of approaching Regice without immediately dying despite having two Elite Four members by his side, standing as his peers.

Could his old self ever imagine such a thing?



He doesn't go to the Conference that year. Instead, he spends all of summer working on his Pokemon and training. A Munchlax is expensive, and he has to rely on odd jobs during the summer to keep Caleb fed, since he doesn't want to rely on his parents for everything. He doesn't talk to Sarah much any longer. She's found herself a few sponsors and has new friends to hang out with, and he knows through online sleuthing that she's starting the Circuit in Snowpoint this year instead of Jubilife.

He tries to forget her, but he can't. Even as his career finally turns around and he starts seeing success, as Ippie evolves into a Hippowdon, Caleb into a Snorlax and Garrett a Gyarados, even as Paige becomes the Eelektross he's always wanted, he watches every single one of her battles to the point of unhealthy obsession. She loses once against the Snowpoint Gym Leader, and then sweeps across the eight Gyms in no time, making sure to save Fantina for last so she could see 'what she was made of.' She completes her team earlier in the year by catching a Sneasel and somehow becomes one of the few trainers in the world to own a Relicanth, who only live within the depths of the ocean floor and were thought to be extinct until they were found again near Hoenn thirty-four years back. He wants to message her and ask her how— how she does all of this so effortlessly, but he can't.

It's difficult to reconcile how talented she is. She fights in such unique ways he literally can't fathom until he looks at the footage, and yet she makes it work. That flexibility in her team is why she's gotten the reputation of never, ever losing twice to an opponent of equal strength.

Craig completes his team as well, deciding that he needs a sixth if he's going to be serious about competing. He has a few contacts within the Hunters from his father and manages to snag himself a Cyndaquil he calls Owen. He finally manages to work with Roxie again and gets seven badges that year, but tragically fails to get Snowpoint's badge for his eighth, even when Roxie evolved into Salamence mid-battle. The Gym Leader, Abenanka walks up to him with her granddaughter Candice who's three years older than Lauren and tells him that his problem is that while he's average to good at everything, there's nothing he excels at, and it shatters everything he is.

He isn't getting into the Conference.

He knows he's no longer her rival. He hasn't been that for a while, now.

Craig doesn't want to go to see her fight in the tournament, and he feels terrible about it. He decides to spend the month of June at home despite his father warning him about the wasted opportunity. He ignores the constant messages from his countless friends and acquaintances pitying him for barely failing to get his eighth badge. Lauren's in the yard playing with Ippie, Roxie and Owen. Craig is good enough now that he managed to get him fully evolved within the year and before the fight with Abenanka.

He watches his sister for a bit through the window. She's given up on her photography hobby and puts everything into drawing, these days. She's eight, now, and sometimes she asks Craig to lend her his Pokemon so she can train her battle-sense with them, but most of what she ends up doing destroys arenas and annoys the employees and Pokemon whose job it is to fix it. Other times, she just straight up has battles in her own head, like blindfolded chess, and she gets annoyed when he doesn't play along.

Craig smiles. It's irrational, given what he thinks about Sarah, but he's happy his little sister's going places.

His grin falters when he sees Sarah land into his backyard on top of her Swanna. She knows Lauren well enough, but his sister still glares at her, which she ignores, and she dips her head to Ippie, Roxie and Owen, the latter of which she'd never met before. Sarah despises young kids other than her siblings and finds them too annoying to be around, so she just walks straight into his home. They live in a nice neighborhood, and the backdoor isn't locked. His parents are thankfully at work, but he rushes to lock the door to his bedroom while he hears her walk up the stairs.

The door bangs. He stays quiet in the corner of his room like a terrified little child. It bangs again.

"I know you're in here."

Her flat voice makes him happy against his will, yet he says nothing. Craig sees red light beneath the crack of his door, and pink sludge crawls beneath it. He screams as Ditto turns into another Sarah and unlocks his own door, letting his old friend into his bedroom. Her white hair is longer, now, but is tied into a high ponytail, and she's dressed so… well. Craig shrinks and suddenly feels like a slob. Has he showered today? Has he even opened the window? Ah, shit.

"Craig." She crosses her arms, and her Ditto mimics her. "How long were you going to hide from me?"

He musters a weak response and runs a nervous hand through his greasy hair. "What do you mean?"

"Stop with the games." She taps a finger against her elbow, and Craig knows that means she's really fucking mad. Every one of her movements is followed by her Ditto's. "We haven't talked this entire year beyond a few texts, let alone battled, so what the hell is wrong with you?"

He flinches at the loudness of her voice. "Nothing."

"What? It can't be nothing, it's— there has to be a reason!"

For someone who knows how to read people, Craig is surprised at her dumbfoundedness. He thinks it's a trick at first, but he knows despite everything, she wouldn't do that.

"Why would you even want to battle me? I— I can't catch up to you, Sarah. No matter what I do, you're always out of reach, so what's the point?"

She stays quiet for a long while, and realization slowly reaches her eyes. "You're so fucking stupid."

"Huh?!"

"You're stupid! A fucking moron!" she screams.

He shoots up from his bed, not caring that he's only wearing shorts. "You wouldn't fucking get it, Sarah, because you're too good at everything you do!" His voice is raw. He's letting out everything he's been letting build up the past two years. "I worked every fucking day of my life to do this, and yet I can't! I just can't! I'm not good at anything, Sarah, I'm just a fucking jack-of-all-trades who doesn't even know what his battling style is and I keep letting my team down!"

"So?"

Craig scoffs. He's crying, he thinks, and so is she. "So?!"

"You aren't working right now. You're lying down and accepting defeat."

"Yeah, well, it's hard to keep moving when the world keeps throwing signs at you that nothing you're doing will be worth it in the end." He smiles bitterly at that.

Her stoic visage falls, and he wants to apologize. He doesn't. "What happened to you, Craig?"

"You wouldn't get it." He sits on his bed and lies down, turning away from her. "Just go have fun with your other Conference-going friends. Friggin' Sal, Lawson and Kayden, or whatever their names are."

"Craig, you have seven badges in your third year, it's—"

"I don't want to be slightly better than average!" he lashes out. "I want to be the best. I want to be the Champion, but I can't. And it's not like I was your rival anyway. 'Rival' implies competition, and there was never any of that after you started the Circuit."

"Why do you think I was always there when you made it to a city, Craig?" she asks. "I was always waiting for you to get there. Waiting for us to fight, because I enjoyed it. Because it was fun to see how we were both progressing." His eyes widen. That potentially means that she missed her shot at the eighth badge in her first year because she'd spent too long waiting for him to get to the city she was in. "You're not average at everything, Craig, you're good at everything, and that means you just have a slower growth curve than me because you work on everything at once. I was… I've…" Another beat of silence, and a sob. "I'm sorry you never enjoyed being my friend."

By the time he turns, the door's already been closed and Ditto's gone with her. He curses himself and runs after her, catching a glimpse of her in the yard. In the time they'd known each other, he had never seen her cry until now.


"Sarah!"

She's already on her Swanna. Craig looks to Roxie, then to Lauren, then to Roxie again. She's eight, and Owen and Ippie will take care of her.

"Watch her!" He yells. Then he jumps on Roxie's back and points toward the Swanna in the sky. "Follow Saraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaooshitohshitohshit—"

He regrets his choice almost immediately. One, he doesn't have his license on him, two, he's riding his Salamence shirtless and in shorts, without a saddle. He clings to her neck for dear life as the warm ocean winds brush past his skin. Roxie's faster than Swanna and easily keeps up with her, but having a conversation while moving in the sky without an empath psychic to relay things is impossible, and Sarah has always called psychic types too boring to use.

So he follows her.

And follows her.

Until she decides to land in front of her apartment complex in Jubilife. Craig knows she plans to hide with her siblings and her foster parents, and while he desperately wants to talk to her, he doesn't want to make anyone uncomfortable or create a scene, especially in this getup.

He sighs and has Roxie turn back home— slower this time. On the way back home, he gets stopped by a Ranger and gets nearly all of his points docked off his flying license, but luckily he'd already been on top of Canalave by then and he can just walk back home, even if Roxie has to fly ahead of him.

Shirtless and in boxer shorts.

He reassures Lauren when he gets home, and sends a long-winded text to Sarah's phone explaining that he'd worded himself terribly and that it wasn't her fault he was feeling this way. He apologizes to her for what feels ten times in the same message, and says that they can still be friends. That he'll find a way to still buy a ticket to the Conference and that he'll cheer her on.

She reads it, but doesn't answer. He can't go to sleep that night.



Had he ever been this exhausted?

Regice gathered chunks of ice together and dissolved them into mist that blanketed the cave in a thick fog, and all of their flying types— Beautifly, Vespiquen, Salamence, attempted to blow it away with wind, but one couldn't just blow away Winter. They couldn't even see its eyes through the mist, but Craig had noticed a few of its seven had turned off. Flint had told them that was the way to measure how close they were to victory before they'd gone into Coronet. Honey poured out of Vespiquen and surged forward into the mist, and the boy waited a few seconds before he yelled and pointed to their lefts.

"There!"

Flint's Rapidash sprung to action, instantly blurring next to them and into the mist. Craig saw a dim glow within that grew to absurd lengths— its horn had been doused in plasma, but even that light had been swallowed by the mist. Vespiquen could track Pokemon in the mist, and Aaron could seemingly understand her perfectly, because he warned Flint and told him to recall his Ninetales with its exact position, and he was forced to release his Lopunny to keep up the pressure, though it would be far worse in this fight than Ninetales could ever be. Still, it was fresh, and that was something.

Craig heard the plasma blade instead of seeing it. A low, ominous hum filled the air, resembling the distant rumble of thunder on the horizon. The sound wasn't loud, but it carried weight, and it wooshed as it slashed into Regice. Magmortar and Typhlosion pooled their efforts and brought down an entire ceiling worth's of magma down where the impact had just been, and while Roxie couldn't continue her onslaught due to the mist, her Fire Blasts and Hyper Beams were even more powerful than Garrett's in this form. There'd been three eyes left out of seven. They were more than halfway there, but every time they found a new tempo and something that worked, it only took Regice up to ten minutes to adapt to their tactics and counter them almost perfectly. It was like a self-learning algorithm.

Another screech from Vespiquen, and they heard something shatter nearby. Ice formed around Orbeetle's barrier itself, encasing it in a thick layer of flower-like frost, and Flint's fire types who remained could only slow its growth, and before it could shatter, Dot encased them in a tighter layer of shields, and tighter again, and again.

Flint brought up a finger under his nose. Even after this long and this much cold, he looked nowhere as tired as Aaron or Craig were. "Hit 'em with a Mirror Coat. Craig, have your fancy beetle layer a barrier close to her skin beneath it."

That would have been an impossible ask for anyone not called Lucian or Craig.

Lopunny shimmered once, then twice, and stood at the edge of the current barrier which was around thirty five feet in all directions. It ignored the licks of frost clinging to its arms, legs and ears and allowed the shield to shatter, leaving them out of the next pre-built layer. Ice overtook them immediately, and she glowered as bright as a star with flames pouring out of her shining coat.

A pure, concentrated beam of plasma exploded out of her chest. She'd known where to aim thanks to Vespiquen's constant communication, and the mist thinned once the pillar of energy overtook Regice and Roxie used that as an opportunity to swoop down and hit the ice type with another Draconic Surge just as fast as the previous Arceus knew how many. A Zap Cannon from Eelektross, Fire Blasts from Flint's fire types, constant Bug Buzzes from Aaron's Pokemon, focused entirely on Regice, and another eye went dark.

The tide was turning.



Craig manages to snag a ticket for the Conference from a reseller at five times the price, and he gets to go that summer. He tries to act the same as usual with his friends and tries to meet more people like he always does. One of them— a regular at the Conference and a Poketch sponsee— likes him so much that he tells him he'll hook him up with the company to see if they can get him sponsored next year, and he almost can't believe it. This could be what finally starts getting him enough money to not have to spend all of his income on feeding his team full of giants, and some months he even has to ask his parents for a little extra despite his pride telling him otherwise.

Still.

Sarah doesn't want anything to do with him. He's tried to get her alone a few times, but she's surrounded by her friends and by the third attempt he nearly gets into a fight with one of the boys, and he realizes that their friendship might be broken forever. He's eighteen, now, so every night he gets drunk alone in his hotel room and wonders where it all went wrong. He drunk dials her a few times and always apologizes the next day when he reads what he's sent, but one night he sends her 'I love you,' and it's too much.

He blocks her number for his own good when she doesn't answer again. It's fine. He's fine.

When he watches Sarah fight in the group stages, something is clearly wrong with her. She doesn't approach her battles like she usually does and almost fights like she's on autopilot. She has none of the flair, none of the spontaneity, none of the uniqueness that made her so brutal to fight, and she loses every single match, failing to get out of the group stages. He knows her friends are here to support her, and he leaves early. He's not interested in the outcome of the tournament this year now that she's out.

The Circuit begins again, and he gets sponsored not only by Poketch, but by multiple other companies as well. He decides that if he's going to do this thing, he has to take it seriously and starts spending multiple long stretches in Mount Coronet to train despite how terrified he is. He easily gathers eight badges, making it a point to beat Snowpoint's for his eighth, and he proudly declares to Abenanka that he's going to be the best at everything to prove her wrong at the start of the fight. The clip goes viral online, combined with his networking efforts for the past four years and his Poketch sponsor, he's suddenly one of the most famous trainers in the country and it's… a lot.

New responsibilities, being somewhat of a role model, having every word he says be taken as Poketch's. There's a big learning curve, but Craig is used to getting beaten up and remaining standing, so despite the slip-ups, he makes it work. He travels all over the region when he has time, going through photoshoots, video shoots, interviews, tournaments, more networking, the ideas for merch, and with all of that combined with his training, he suddenly has very little free time to do anything else. He tries to date another Poketch sponsee for a while— a girl named Abigail. It crashes and burns within six months because he wants to keep it a secret and she doesn't.

He gets to the Conference that year, and barely— barely makes it out of the group stages on his first attempt, and honestly, it's mostly luck.

His first, true 6v6?

Craig Goodwill v Sarah Newman.

It's as if the world itself is laughing in his face.

The situation is reversed. He can barely put his mind into the fight, while she slaughters him and battles better than she has the entire year. Her Dragalge creates a swamp full of poison, leaving mines laced with draconic energy that his Pokemon can't help but be enthralled by. Her Weavile manipulates chunks of poisoned ice and uses them as an extension of her claws, her Mantine flies overhead with poisoned water clones of herself and bombs his Snorlax with constant exploding chunks of hail, sharpened air, rocks, Bullet Seeds, pressurized water and when he switches to Eelektross, she smiles at him and sends back the Thunders that manage to hit with Mirror Coat. Her Relicanth is an impenetrable wall, and despite the fact that he doesn't float with hydrokinesis like the others, he travels throughout the field riding a constant wave of Muddy Water and smashes his head into Garrett, and her Ditto transforms back into Dragalge, fighting just as well as her ace and starter had.

The final score is 3-6 in her favor. She starts fighting worse as soon as the battle is over and loses two matches later.

The years pass.

Slowly.

Slowly, but surely, they both claw their way up to the Conference each tournament. Lauren grows more distant when she turns twelve, wanting to live outside of his shadow. He thinks she'll grow out of it or that it's just a phase, but it's not. The previous Poketch Trainer Representative retires and Craig takes his place after a nasty corporate civil war that he wins thanks to knowing how people work better than his ex-girlfriend Abigail, and she's driven out of the company.

It's bloody, it's nasty, and he hates it, but it's all just work, by now.

One thing he loves, though, is being a role model for young trainers and kids. He goes to schools and talks about what it takes being a trainer, the perseverance and hard work involved. Craig likes kids. He still thinks it's a travesty that so many of them die each year and he makes it his goal to tell people to always start the Circuit from the east if they can so they don't have to go through Eterna Forest before they're ready. One day, he goes to Lauren's school, and he makes it a tradition to come every year. At some point, Lauren tells him to stop because she hates it, and he agrees even if he's hurt.

With the new salary comes a mega ring and Roxie's Salamencite after an entire year of saving. It takes another six months for him to get used to the exhaustion that swallows him whole every time he uses it, but he understands that he shouldn't rely on it as a crutch in a fight unless he absolutely has to.

The summer before his ninth Circuit, Craig hadn't fought or spoken to Sarah since his fourth. He's been a quarter-finalist two years in a row while she's made it to the semis once. He's nervous. Twenty-five is looming ever closer, and culture dictates that that is when one must stop playing around in the Circuit and enter the real world. He's already had League Scouts who observe every match at the Conference contact him about joining the army, and while he's hesitant, he's not completely against the idea if his dream of becoming Champion falters, so long as he can rise through the ranks from the inside and be potentially chosen as a member of the Elite Four in the future. While he's responding to an email to the Hunter family about getting his little sister a Treecko sometime soon, he sees a Swanna land in his backyard. Lauren's off watching some summer tournament south of the city with Paige acting as her babysitter, Ippie's back at her mom's for the next two weeks, and the rest of the team are in their Pokeballs, so he's alone.

His fingers drum against the desk, and he closes his laptop. He's nervous, but he goes down to meet her, and she doesn't break into his house.

They aren't kids anymore.

"Craig."

She greets him with that same, flat voice she's always had in front of his door. Her white hair was into a bob cut, just like when they'd first met, and he snorts instead of greeting her back because of her bad it looks.

"Sarah. I see your choice of hairdressers still leaves something to be desired."

She raises an eyebrow. "I've been going to Ms. Ken since I've been a kid. It's a tradition, at this point, and I wanted to try short hair again."

"Well, I won't tell you what to do," he says with a shrug. "Want to come in? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Her nose wrinkles. "'To what do I owe the pleasure?' What the hell is that?"

"What do you mean?"

"You talk… different."

"Well, I guess that's called growing up. So?"

She shifts uncomfortably. "It's been a long time. I just wanted to catch up with an old friend, I guess. See what goes on beyond Poketch's cookie-cutter version of you."

"Ah, well, that'll take a while." He gestures her in. "I've got coffee, if you want."

She sighs in relief. "Yes, please."

He smirks. She's always been a coffee addict.

They talk for a while, telling each other about what had happened in their lives the past five years, and Craig wonders why they'd waited so long to do so. Sure, they both needed to mature— especially him, but he was sure that they could have done this a lot earlier than now. She tells him about her adventures on the ocean floor on the back of her Mantine (who could keep her protected from the elements, including the pressure, thanks to its flying typing), and how she met a Pokemon she'd never heard about. She tries to describe it, but she's always been shit at describing things, so it comes out sounding like some kind of blue alien until she draws it on a piece of paper. It's blue and has a weird bulb on its head from which some kind of appendage grows that looks like a long strand of hair. Its eyes are a dark blue and a red gem is lodged into its chest. According to her, around it were thousands of Pokemon living in harmony and it made the world so much more colorful. She tells him about how she caught Relicanth the same way years back, though back then she wasn't able to go that deep and it had been a stroke of good luck, and that her Ditto had been found writhing in a dumpster next to the Game Corner in Veilstone shortly after their battle there. She tells him more and more and he realizes her life has been filled with just as much crazy shit as his has.

Beyond Poketch and being a star, Craig tells her the most about Mount Coronet. About the breadth of life in the mountain that people never saw, and what the different layers look like. He tells her about his multiple run-ins with Pokemon and the multiple close calls he's had, and instead of worrying, she tells him he's lucky he hasn't been scarred, and just like that, he knows they're back to being friends.

They decide to sit on his roof for a bit and watch the sun set after Lauren gets here and gives Sarah the stink eye without saying a word. Craig tries to ask her how the tournament was, but she locks herself in her room and says that she's going to draw, and the metal music she puts on is so loud the walls of the house vibrate.

Well, she is fourteen.

"It was nice catching up," Craig says. He can see the bridge from here, and it's drawn up to allow a ship to pass through the canal; out of the marina and into the ocean. "It's like back in the day."

Sarah nods. "Hmhm."

"Sorry for back then," he adds.

"I'm sorry too. We were kids." She clears her throat. "There's actually another reason I came here. It's about us."

His heart skips a beat. After all this time, really? What the fuck? He tries not to be weird about it. He knows she's dated multiple people by now, and she'd never really felt the same way about him that he had about her, or that if she had, she no longer did so, and that was fine. Really, he was the strange one for holding on to infatuation from when he'd been a teenager.

"This year at the Conference, Craig, I want you to give it your all, and I'll do the same," she declares. "Let's leave the drama behind us and meet in the finals. You and me, battling it out to see who's going to be the strongest trainer. I know we both have what it takes."

"I lost in quarters last time. Finals… it's a big jump."

"Oh, please, the only reason neither of us have been finalists yet at this point is because the current generation of trainers is fucking insane. Could you imagine… what was their names? The two people we bet on when we first met?"

"Frankie Hubbard and Aiden Scott."

She cackles so hard that her legs squirm. "Yes! Them! Arceus, that takes me back— but can you imagine if they were fighting in the Conference this year with all of your freaks in Poketch and the general talent going around?"

"Yeah… no way they make it to the finals," he agrees.

"So push harder, Craig. I know we both have what it takes to get here. You're still… you know, I still consider you my rival. I've never had anyone else."

He can't help but smile at that. "Me too."

"Win or lose, I'm leaving after this year, Craig. Sinnoh's boring, now. It's always the same Gym, always the same people, I need something new. I don't think I'll register to the Circuit wherever I'm going, but I kind of just want to… see the world."

Ah.

That shakes his very foundation. It's difficult to imagine a world without her to chase after, but at the same time, he's happy she won't stay somewhere she isn't happy.

"Okay. Let's have one final fight, you and I," he says with a grin.

"Let's make it happen." She holds out a hand at him. He shakes it.

And so, a promise was made.

"Wanna go train in Victory Road together?" he asks. She agrees.



One. Only one eye remained lit from the seven. They were close to winning, but also close to breaking as well. They'd been fighting for so long it all felt like a blur to Craig. Roxie was so tired she had to cancel her mega evolution, and he could barely stand on his own two feet without Flint to keep him upright.

One. They have one Pokemon left each, and both have seen fighting already. Salamence against Dragalge, their two starters and aces, close to the brink. Having recalled Roxie earlier to keep even with her numbers, Craig knows he can't go through the strain of mega-evolution again. He shares a look with Sarah, and they both grin.

Another flurry of attacks, and the last eye flickered between dark and glowing. They were so close to victory that he felt a reinvigorating burst of energy course through his body.

Salamence rushes toward Dragalge, bites into her body and the poison type releases roiling poisonous mist that Craig can taste in his mouth even from behind the barrier. The acid bleeds through Roxie's mouth and makes her teeth and jaw melt, but she blows a point-blank Dragon Pulse at the Dragalge while dragging her as far away as she can from the poisoned swamp below.

Regice raised one of its massive hands and fired off a ray of Winter toward Roxie, and Craig instinctively knew that she was too slow to dodge or outrun it now that she was out of her mega form. He grabbed the dragon type's Pokeball and tried to beam her back, but she was actually still too fast for the tracking beam to hit her. If she slowed, the ice would hit her before he could recall her, and he knew that this ice was different. It was infused with electricity to speed itself up, and he knew Regice was an adaptive fighter who had probably adjusted its tactics to best counter Roxie, who had been a thorn in its side ever since it had mega-evolved.

He called out to Dot and asked her to summon a shield to block the ice. Exhausted from who knew how many hours of defensive multitasking, she nodded.

Dragalge's entire body exhales in pain, but she starts leaking water instead of poison. The liquid surrounds Roxie, and at first Craig thinks it's going to freeze her, but instead, it coats her like a layer of gel. With a defiant eye, Dragalge crinkles and Roxie is pulled downward toward the swamp by the water around her. He's never seen Sarah use this attack before, but he can infer from the way Roxie's Dragon Pulse weakens that it's some variation of Soak.

All he can do is hope. His breath catches in his throat.


All he could do was hope. At least ten panels of light appeared in-between Regice's attack and Roxie while the rest of the Pokemon still remaining standing gave it everything they had. Fire, electricity, Hyper Beams were most of what they were using, but there were also Earthquakes, magma and poison. The beam of Winter shattered the first eight barriers, and then stalled. Craig felt a surge of hope.

The two Pokemon crash into the poisoned swamp, and Craig is exhausted, but praying to every Legendary he knows that he's achieved victory. The two Pokemon had sank below the water, and he can only see bubbles.

Then, they stop, and he sees Dragalge's red crest poke out of the water.

Roxie is nowhere to be seen.


Regice whirred, and Winter bent.

It flew directly toward them, and Aaron screamed at his Beautifly to get back and to use Protect, and it was barely here in time. Dot waved an arm and screeched, and Craig instinctively stepped in front of Aaron—

The tingling and numbness was replaced by a pervasive nothingness. His body seemed like it belonged to someone else, especially his arm. His left arm. His breath puffed out in thick clouds that quickly dissipated in the icy air, and with each exhale, it seemed as if a little more of his warmth and energy left him.

He loses, and the crowd erupts into applause.

He.

Feels.

So.

Crushed.

After all of this, after everything, he still couldn't beat her. What comes next is a blur. He doesn't remember if he smiles or if he just stands there, his mouth agape. The fight had been so close, and knowing it was probably the last one they'd ever have made him want to tear out his hair. His left arm hurts. He doesn't remember why. He doesn't remember where he is, or what is going on.

He was fighting Regice, wasn't he?

He hears voices he can't make out.

He tries to move. All he can muster is a stir.

He tries to open his eyes. The world is blurry, but he sees Aaron shaking him with a horrified look while Flint pulls out something from his bag. They look nearly frozen, too, and are shaking uncontrollably, but at least they're alive. That must have meant Orbeetle and Beautifly's Protect weakened the ice enough before it hit. He sees Dot, Roxie, Ippie, Caleb, Paige and Owen swarm around him, too, and he wants to tell them to be quiet. It's not like he can understand what they're saying beyond the vaguest of ideas, given how out of it he is. Something about a shattered left arm and spreading cold. They remind him of the crowd cheering for his battle against Sarah after he lost. The greatest final the Conference had ever seen, they called it.

Is Regice finished? It must be, given that they aren't all dead and are paying attention to him.

He closes his eyes. It doesn't hurt.

He imagines the Conference this year. This summer.

He imagines winning the finals and holding that giant trophy next to Cynthia and the rest of the Elite Four in the closing ceremony.

He imagines the intense preparations and final stretch of training he has to go through to prepare to win against them.

He imagines beating the Elite Four one by one. He decides to have it in private with only his family being allowed in the stands.

He imagines making them proud.

He imagines his parents and Lauren smiling.

He wants to imagine the rest of it. He really wants to.

But he's so tired, and it's so comfortable. Like his head is on his mother's lap.

The Boy Champion goes to sleep and never wakes up.




A/N: I dreaded writing this.

For the past year, I've considered two options. Either Craig dies against Regice and his team survives, or one or a few of his Pokemon do, meaning he's too devastated to fight in the Conference and his chances are ruined. His character was always meant to have a tragic ending, but I couldn't decide which one it was going to be for a long time.

In the end, I decided he dies, which was probably evident with the death flags and then all the flashbacks, but I think giving a character a proper send-off in this situation was better than trying to catch readers off-guard with a death. I was meant to write a Craig Side Story a long time ago, and I could never get it done, so this is kind of it. This is Craig Goodwill. This is who he was and how he grew up. I wanted you to feel like he could have been the main character of his own story, and you learn a little more about Sarah Newman too, for those who remember him mentioning her.

Hm.

I'm sad, I think. I hope what I wrote was worthy of him. It was a bit of an experimental chapter, with the two stories linking together at the end, the more abstract descriptions of the fight, and the different tenses.

Thanks for reading, as always.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R
 
Last edited:
Chapter 314 - Ascend, Children of Coronet
CHAPTER 314 - ASCEND, CHILDREN OF CORONET IV

"Bwuh."

Maylene raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Uuuuuh."

She nodded. "Uhuh."

"Cece…"

"Yes, I know you want to see her. You'll see her soon when this is all over. Maybe sooner."

"What're you talking…about? She's right here." Grace slowly pulled a hand up, trying to reach nothing.

Maylene quickly put it back down into her friend's sleeping bag, but relented. She'd seen enough of this to know that fighting the ramblings of a delirious girl was meaningless. "You know what, sure."

Maylene was in a predicament.

She'd been ecstatic when the cold had started to wane, slowly but surely, partly because yes, dying was scary, but mostly because she hadn't wanted to look at her new friend slowly get the life drained out of her, bit by bit, especially on her own with her Pokemon. Now that it was getting warmer slowly, Grace was bundled up in her sleeping bag next to her two Pokemon well enough to be out of their Pokeballs— or one, really. Electivire had suffered from the fight with Saturn, but less so than the others, and despite Turtonator's state, the dragon refused to be recalled, going as far as roaring at her when she'd grabbed his Pokeball. There was also that weird Meltan thing, but she decided not to risk releasing an unknown Pokemon without Grace's supervision.

She didn't really like Turtonator. Really, there were only two Pokemon of Grace's that she actually liked. Electivire and Claydol. Maybe Tyranitar on a good day. They all ranged from practically feral to psychopaths.

She'd had to painstakingly tell Turtonator that even though he found it easier to make the place warmer now, getting Grace to heat up too quickly could be dangerous. She'd known Candice long enough to have learned how to make people recover from hypothermia (really, it was basically a requirement for being one of her close friends), and all it would do was strain his already hurt body. With help from Electivire, he'd accepted after a few minutes of arguing. Honestly, this was why dragons were such a pain in the butt. Good luck trying to make anyone who wasn't their trainer order them around. Either they'd throw a fit like this one or just look at you like you were stupid, like Cynth's Garchomp.

Still, it was difficult to be that angry at him when he was curled up next to Grace with such worry. His tail was curved on top of her legs and he would dote on her while Electivire caressed her hair. It made her miss her own team… Maylene felt a surge of pain, deep within her heart, but she controlled it before any aura could flare up at her distress. They were fine, they had to be.

Instead of worrying, she placed one of her water flasks on top of his glowing shell, and she recalled parts of Candice's advice. Warm beverages are always good. Arceus, that girl could ramble for hours on end, but she took the cold very seriously. Tea would have been preferred, but the best Maylene could do right now was warm water while she listened to Grace's delirious ramblings. Most of them had to do with her Pokemon, friends or girlfriend, but sometimes she'd be fighting an imaginary battle or talk to some girl called Bella and someone she assumed was her Pokemon, Nightstalker. These would have been funny if she was drunk instead of almost dead. Nia was kind of the same when she'd drank too much, going from somewhat reserved to someone who just couldn't shut up.

Sometimes she'd remember Maylene was here and thank her for coming along with her, or forgiving her, so that was nice. Hell, she'd even called her a saint who was too nice for her own good, so Maylene didn't really know how to react to that.

She grabbed the gourd, which was scorching to the touch, but still felt like nothing against her palms, and gave it a taste to see if she wasn't about to burn Grace's mouth.

She couldn't tell.

She groaned and clenched the bottle. Being so strong was annoying. Not that she wasn't growing tired, too. Her shoulder where that shard of ice had stabbed her ached, the cold had nearly gotten to her own hands as well, and most of all, she couldn't hear anything out of her left ear. Granted, she'd hidden how much it was hurting her from Grace, since she knew her body could take it and it would just worry her.

"Hey, Electivire— or Honey, I guess," Grace's naming sense was really awful. It felt weird calling a Pokemon by a pet name. "Could you try this out for me?"

The electric type answered with a series of grunts and words she didn't understand, but that tired, thankful smile on his face was universal. One of the strange things about Grace's team was how vocal they were. Pokemon usually relied more on body language and pointing at stuff to communicate with trainers they didn't know. Maylene supposed a year with a girl who could literally understand their every word, along with the words of every Pokemon she had met, had warped their understanding of how to talk to people.

Honey poured a little bit of water on one of his fingers, which were bereft of fur, and he gave her a thumbs up.

"Thanks. I guess the metal just heats up faster than the contents inside." Electivire handed her the bottle and she looked at the grown toddler she had to take care of. "Hey. Grace, can you drink something?"

"Stop being so loud," she moaned.

Maylene chuckled and tapped a finger on her forehead. "Hey, don't blame me for the voices in your head. I need to know because your mask will be off. Can you drink? Warm water'll be good for you."

It took another few attempts to get a straight answer, and even then, Maylene decided to get another yes out of her. It'd be really stupid if Grace died now, choking on water after having made it through all of this. At least, though, she drank the water without incident. Seeing her face for the first time in over a day revealed that she was dangerously pale, and there was some dried blood on the side of her ear she hadn't noticed.

Was her ear screwed up too? Stupid. Of course it was messed up if hers was. Grace was just an ordinary girl. Squishy and weak.

Maylene grabbed one of the few remaining cloths they had and wiped the blood away with warm water before quickly slipping the mask back on. The air up here was thin, even for her, so it was best to keep it off only for a few seconds at a time.

"You'll have to eat something soon. I'll skip lunch… or dinner, or whatever it is. We were running low on food because of me anyway."

She sat cross-legged next to Grace and initiated a few breathing exercises her father had taught her as a young child. Meditation, he said, was the key to master her emotions and with it, aura, but they served to help her breathe up here too. It was Electivire, a few minutes later, that interrupted her. Turtonator had fallen asleep, but seeing as he was warming the surrounding area slowly but surely and was still listening to her, Maylene decided not to recall him. It sickened her, to see his crushed hands and legs, but he made it look easy.

"What's up?" she asked.

The electric type tapped a finger on his chin and spoke.

"I don't get you, sorry. Back in the day, they said some people with Aura could understand Pokemon because it's intrinsically tied to emotion, but not anymore." She shrugged and closed her eyes again. The stone floor here reminded her of the tough mats at her Gym— Legendaries, she missed her Gym, which was a crazy statement considering how she'd felt like she'd been drowning there half a year ago. Routine was what she craved, now. "If Cassianus wasn't resting, it'd be fine, but they are, so… yeah."

Electivire snapped his fingers and smiled before pointing at the backpack. She grabbed it and threw it with a one-handed throw, glad that since it was League-made, it wouldn't tear, and the electric type paused his stroking of Grace's hair to rummage through it. He pulled out a pen and a small notepad that the League must have shoved down this humongous bag. Electivire scribbled down a few things and then showed her the paper.

It took her a little aback. Not every trainer bothered to let their Pokemon learn how to read and write— granted a lot of them weren't interested in the first place, so it wasn't just on the trainers.

Thank you for being her legs and hands during that battle. Your very cool.

The grammar itself was… mostly correct, but the handwriting was horrible. She didn't say that, though.

"Well, one's gotta make themselves useful. That fight would have been a lot easier if I had my team." Her fingers traced the contours of the cave's floor. "It's the least I could do."

He wrote again. Fights like that suck. I dont like hurting people.

She smiled sadly. "Yeah. They do suck."

Good bonding experience. You two are friendly now.

Maylene guffawed and held onto her stomach because of how out there the statement was. 'Yeah, you almost died, but at least you're closer!' was hilarious, in a morbid kind of way.

"You were in your Pokeball, so you didn't know, but we were friends before that. We all could have gone without that fight."

Electivire paused, thinking of how to answer, so Maylene looked behind her. It was too dark to see Saturn's body, especially when away from the edges of the pillars which was where the light came from, but she could still see a shape flickering in the shadows. Bile built up at the back of her throat until her head whirled back around by reflex. Out of sight, out of mind. Out of sight, out of mind. She hadn't killed anyone today. She hadn't.

Mom gets a little crazy with revenge. The mountain would have pushed the encounter together eventually.

'Mom' gave her whiplash, but she elected to push past it. It was one thing to see Grace refer to them as her kids and another to see them reciprocate. "I guess. I'm surprised you oppose the revenge stuff."

Violence is bad, he answered. My first parents taught me that. Now I'm her consience and I have to stop her if she ever gets lost in it again.

'Consience' as in conscience. "Oh. Honestly, I thought you were all like her. Sorry." She asked for the backpack back, which he threw and she caught, and she leaned against it to rest her back. "Your first parents, huh? I guess parents always leave a strong imprint on their kids whether they like it or not."

Her need to handle everything herself, to work so hard, even her preferred style of battling, it was to impress her father, yes, but he'd also behaved almost the exact same way.

"Not that you're worse off for it. Legendaries know that girl needs some positive influences in her life… no offense to your other teammates. Or her friends. Or parents. Or, uh, anyone else for that matter!"

Honey giggled, and his laughing made his handwriting even worse. I love my family but they need me. He turned the page and looked at Grace, who was mumbling about her Dad buying the wrong kind of cake. This is embarrassing but do you want to talk about martial arts?

Maylene beamed. She knew from Volkner's Electivire (who was a provocative asshole) that they could get quite good at fighting type moves, and they had a good body type to master martial arts. "Oh, sure! Shinwa's the birthplace of most martial arts, and I basically know all of them. Is this about training or—"

He'd already been writing. I watch a cartoon called the Legendary Fighting Type and it's really cool but I don't understand a lot of the techniques. Kinda ruins the enjoyment.

What?

Oh.

Maylene deflated like a balloon. "So you don't want to train to get better at fighting type moves? You use Cross Chop, no?"

Dont you just hit people harder and win?

"No— what?!" Her back straightened. "A good fighting type will also have technique along with strength!"

Not interested. Sorry. You should watch the Legendary Fighting Type. This newest part of the show is…

Maylene stopped reading.

A cartoon? Really? She stared at Grace, sleeping like nothing was happening in her sleeping bag (she'd made sure to listen to her breathing by turning her head) and realized that she might have been more literal than she thought when she called her Pokemon children.

Well, nothing to do but to pass the time and engage with this.



Screams.

How many?

The squelch of flesh, torn apart. The crunching of shattering bones. The smell of burning flesh, tingling in her nose. It was all too familiar to Cecilia by this point. Her and Maeve's trek up the mountain had been marked by battle after battle; at least one per layer. Most of the times, the groups of grunts had been small and too weak. Huddled against their fire types to survive the cold like vermin desperate to survive through a coming upheaval. She'd studied the Great War during her childhood, and though every single tutor had a different take on who was at fault, who had won or lost, or there had even been victors at all, it was not the large scale of the conflict nor the politics behind it that flashed in her mind, in this moment.

She remembered the description of the great pits where bodies were burned to ash en masse. Grainy pictures in black and white of men and women with their Charmeleon, Ponyta, whatever fire type they might have, or even an artificial flamethrower, burning bodies without a care in the world, asking herself, how could one be willing to ignore the sanctity of life so?

Well, they weren't burning bodies, but the point was, one could turn killing into routine. It was not a good thing, nor was she proud of it, but it just was.

Oh, Cecilia was cold too, inside and out, even if the temperature had begun to rise steadily and warmth had slowly come back to her fingers and feet that she was still barely capable of moving. Without Talonflame, Slowking, and Maeve's Infernape and Starmie, they would be dead— frozen husks of meat shriveled up, their last positions no doubt having their faces begging for an ounce of warmth. It was Slowking's expertise in barriers and him keeping away from exerting himself in battle, that had kept them truly safe and the little heat they could get contained. Cecilia's Pokemon hadn't seen much fighting aside from supporting Maeve's. Her comrade in arms had asked them to keep their distance so they could save their energy for a battle that truly mattered, and so it was her Pokemon, who were beaten and battered. Her Infernape, whose shoulder had been torn so harshly by a Hitmonlee's kick that he could no longer move his right arm. Her Drapion, whose abdomen kept leaking green blood and whose tail had been frozen and ripped away by a Piloswine. Her Gligar whose wings had been perforated by darts.

Maeve watched those wounds happen with barely any emotion, though it was difficult to tell when her face was hidden behind a mask she'd taken from the same ACE she had looted her lidar from. They'd had to share oxygen tanks, and Cecilia did not know whether they would have enough to both reach the top or not. Cecilia cracked her neck and watched the few remaining grunts be torn apart by Pokemon who should have barely been capable of fighting, yet who still stood anyway, and she took in the beauty of this place instead— the sixth layer.

The terrain underfoot shifted from rugged stone to a carpet of silver dirt that sparkled subtly, as if sown with stardust, and a strange golden glow shone from the sky above, washing everything in color that could not be superseded by anything else. Their climbing gear, their Pokeballs, the skin of the grunts and all of their Pokemon appeared gilded. It was… quite godly, if that made any sense. It gave her a feeling that they were getting close, and Cecilia knew the light was coming from above, so the seventh and final floor of this mountain before they would make it to Spear Pillar. She could feel the hair on her arms rise at the thought of seeing the seat of such power.

This place was no barren wasteland, though. Trees, tall and slender, rose as taller than the largest Cecilia had seen in Eterna Forest and were covered in shimmering, golden leaves that rustled with the sound of… drums which shook her to her very core and made her somewhat self-conscious. They were not exactly like drums, but it was the closest instrument Cecilia had found. She had touched their iridescent barks a few times and it seemed more solid than it should have been. Like she was touching metal, yet she knew it was still organic—

"Cecilia." Maeve's hissing, distorted voice shook her out of the daze that seemed to take her every time she got lost into the looks of this place, and Cece stared at the masked girl. "There's… you might want to look at this," she said, waving to next to one of the golden trees. She recalled unconscious Pokemon— or those that were alive anyway— with her other. She'd regained her senses faster than Cece had. She was hardier, and willing to push through more pain than Cecilia was.

The Unovan's eyes narrowed when she saw what Maeve was pointing at. A shivering girl next to a Musharna with frost claiming her every breath. Her eyes were nearly sown shut by crystal-like ice and snot had solidified below her nose, but the strange thing about her was—

Her similarity to Grace. It was difficult to tell when everything was basked in golden light, but one could call them doppelgangers if they were generous. Her face was longer, and she was most likely a few years older, but she had… scars in the same place. Burns going along the left of her face, down to her neck, and below her sickening uniform. There were hints of cuts on the bit of her wrist she could see, which meant she have had the cuts all over her left arm as well.

Bile built up at the back of her throat, and Cecilia blinked. Her feet suddenly felt heavier in the cosmic soil she stood on. With each step she took, she carried a soul-crushing guilt that had instantaneously appeared. This wasn't Grace, and even if it had been, they had agreed on this; on what had to be done. It had been an oath sworn on the death of Justin.

And yet…

Cecilia crouched in front of the girl with Slowking and Talonflame at her side, and she contemplated asking her what— why she was like this. The grunt looked at her in fear, but she was too cold to even crawl away or run. Her legs just… flailed around in the dirt and her shoulder scraped against one of the trees she'd been leaning against. There was another beat of a drum, and Cecilia felt as if something was judging her. Par for the course, in this place.

Cecilia's jaw clenched, her feet shifted against the dirt, and she squinted at the girl. She agonized for a few seconds, but then decided on what to do. Turning to Slowking, she spoke, "Get her in here."

Maeve, who had been in her own Starmie's warmth bubble, tilted her head. "Your power's not back online. It should be another fifteen hours before we can get another grunt to guide us up."

Cece exhaled, her face unmoving from the girl, who slowly stopped shivering. It was still cold, but it was survivable. How pathetic, that their own leader had not planned to save them from the Pokemon causing the cold when he'd been the cause in the first place. "Let's see if she can help us up regardless."

Maeve sighed, and Cecilia turned to look at her. It was difficult to see her properly under the golden bloom. "You know we've tried. It never works. They're always—" she stopped and rearranged her mask against her face. "She's not Grace, Cecilia."

"Oh, I know." She chuckled dryly and stared at the terrified girl again. "No one other than her could be her, and though I admit her similarity had me hesitate." Her hand scraped the silver dirt below, and the girl yelped. She looked at the little grains stuck on her gloves. That guilt she'd felt was best buried for now to be unpacked at a later date.

Yes, she was scared as dozens had been in her position before, staring down their executioner, yet there was none of the defiance in her eyes that was in the others. That last hurrah, that belief that they would be reborn, it was weak in her. Cecilia knew how to recognize the weakness in the hearts of Men. The lack of strength behind a belief. She could see it within her like a Sharpedo smelling blood in the water and was conditioned to look for people like her to bend to her will. Her Musharna wasn't much better, though they were barely conscious and had also been affected by the cold.

"Here's what's going to happen," Cecilia said, voice smooth like silk and as diplomatic as she could make it. Her gloved hand traced the bark next to the girl's head. "You're going to help us reach the summit. You need no oxygen to breathe, so you won't be a burden. All you have to do is point us in the correct direction, and I'll see to it that it's a League prison that claims you by the end of those, not death."

The Galactic grunt answered with a meek nod.

Cecilia smiled. "Good. What's your name?"

"C—Clara." Her voice came out in a defeated whimper that was like a drug to Cecilia.

"Well, Clara." Cece stood, helping the girl up as well. It was difficult for her to stand, especially on ground as uneven as this and her hands still being so weak. "Lead the way. Your previous colleagues have had a… far better intuition on where the path to the next layer would be than mine, so I assume you will be the same."

Clara nodded with a gulp and placed Musharna back in their ball. "Uhuh." There were new tears in her eyes. Maybe it was from the fear, or perhaps it was because she had betrayed Team Galactic, but either way, they had to move forward. Maeve finished recalling all the Pokemon who were still alive, leaving them here to be recovered at a later date, and then stared at Cecilia for a long time. It was a glare, she understood, even when she couldn't see her eyes. Cecilia whispered to Slowking to separate them from Clara, who was still only a few feet in front of them, and he isolated their voices away from her.

"I don't like this," Maeve whispered.

Cecilia rolled her eyes. "She's harmless. She won't fight us or rebel, I can tell."

Lean into it. Embrace it. Become it. She had hated the thought of being her, once. Of holding this power at the tip of her fingers. Yet these past few days on Coronet had taught her to use it more than she'd ever wanted to. To recognize to smell weakness and to know who she could twist and whisper her words to, and she felt good doing it.

Disgusting.

Bury it.

"If you say so," Maeve relented. "Whatever."

She can believe what she wants, Cecilia thought to herself. Another wave of her hand, and Slowking ended the separation between them and Clara. She walked with a pronounced limp, kept fidgeting and used the trees as support, whose sounds was uncomfortable to Cecilia, but hopefully she hadn't been mortally hurt by the cold, or they'd have to wait to find another group…

Still, she was intriguing. Cecilia walked up to Clara and stared at her. "I apologize for asking, but where did you get those scars?" she asked. "Was it Mars?"

The grunt yelped, her feet shifting in the silver dirt, and a Vigoroth growled at her from a tree branch above, basked in the same golden light everything was with frost woven in their fur. Cecilia hadn't seen many wild Pokemon due to the cold, but a few had remained where they were and this Vigoroth had somehow survived the onslaught of frost that should have killed them.

Having recovered, Clara cleared her throat and shut her eyes. "You… you know?" She stopped to scoff. "Of—of course you do."

"I know she's obsessed with Grace." Cecilia noticed the girl flinch at that name. "And you're a grunt who looks like her. I'm just putting two and two together."

Should we not just let her be? Slowking whispered in her mind as he tapped her shoulder behind her. This is… she's harmless on her own. It'd be best to keep her in our camp and not torment her.

Maybe she should. No, he was right. She would, once she figured out a little bit more. Clara stayed silent for a good bit, probably wondering if she should go on or stay quiet and which was the best way for her to stay alive.

Clara glanced at her, but only for a split second, as if not to get caught. "You're… Cecilia, right? Your friend called you that."

"Yes."

"Commander Mars… hates you. She's always been jealous of her friends, but you were the closest to her." Each mention of her had so much vitriol injected into the word that it sounded like her throat was straining, despite Clara's meek voice trembling due to the cold. "She would…"

Cecilia let out a curious hum, synced with the beat of a drum coming from the leaves above that made her eye twitch. There was no uniformity to them, no sense of rythm, but they were still uneasy. "Go on."

"You won't hurt me?" The words weren't ones of disbelief at how kind they were compared to Galactic. They had, after all, killed all the people and half the Pokemon in her group like clockwork. Their groups hadn't even been one of the most troublesome ones. They were simply the words of a girl looking out for herself. Of all the grunts they'd seen so far, she was the only one who seemed scared to die.

She shook her head and finally answered. "No. Speak freely, so long as you keep us going in the…" she waved her hand at the endless golden trees in front of them, "right direction."

"She would rant about what she'd do to you when she got her hands on you, and sometimes she'd get so angry she'd start—" Clara stopped, as if there was something stuck in her throat, and she kicked a handful of dirt forward. "Yeah. Every day I'd beg the Legendaries for her not to think about you too hard."

"Could you not have surrendered to the League?" Maeve asked, still behind them. "You'd have escaped, given us— them a crap ton of information and probably gotten a sweet deal out of it."

Clara's neck and shoulders stiffened. "I—" Another pause. Cecilia figured she was considering whether to go on or not. "I wasn't sure she wouldn't send her Dusknoir after me. There was this boy, Émile Cartwright. She'd always gloat about how she got him in a holding cell." She nearly fell over, but Slowking held her still and helped her up before she could fail to hold onto a tree. They'd have to take a break sooner rather than later. "And I didn't want to betray the organization. I didn't want to betray Cyrus, because I— I believed in our new world." Her steps in the silt wavered as her convictions did. "I thought I just needed to hold on and that soon my life would be perfect."

"What changed?" Maeve brusquely asked. She was not one for patience, with Galactic. Neither was Cecilia, but there was a certain tact Maeve lacked.

The girl shrugged and answered, "When I was confronted with the choice again, I guess I— I guess I flaked. I'm scared. Scared to die, and I don't want Musharna to die, either," she sniffled, working her hands as feeling returned to them just like Cecilia was. "Cyrus will become an omniscient and omnipotent God, and he'll know I betrayed them, so if I can't get in, then I might as well, uh, I might as well try to prevent him from winning."

So she had only started caring for the world once her own well-being was threatened. There was no worry for the billions upon billions of lives— human and Pokemon— that her organization would end. She had suffered, yes, but she was still scum and a grunt through and through, and since she was wearing a breathing mask, Cecilia allowed her grimace to permeate across her face.

"How self-serving—"

Cecilia cut Maeve off. "Well, she's been through a lot. Let's try to be understanding," she lied.

It would be best to keep her talking, though it would be stupid of her to ask for everything she wanted all at once. She allowed silence to reign for a few minutes and retreated to talk to Slowking. Other than Talonflame and him, the rest of her Pokemon were resting in their Pokeballs. Arceus, her legs felt tired, especially walking in this sand-like dirt, but she had to push on. No moment could be wasted with the fate of the world and Justin's killer still hanging in the balance.

You'll need to take a good look in the mirror when this is done, my lady.

Cecilia blinked slowly. "Feeling bad for her?"

She'd already known he wouldn't have spoken to her in a way that necessitated more than a nod or a shake of her head had he not arranged their bubble in a way to keep what she would say to themselves.

Talonflame cawed as she hopped on the ground. Walking wasn't her forte, especially in this terrain, but she'd rather do that than fly so slow. Being chained to a human's walking pace when in the sky made her irritable.

"No?" Cece pondered.

Not particularly. She would have kept going had you not been there to threaten her, and she is a selfish person at her core, the psychic reiterated. But the way you're behaving as a whole is—

"I know." Her voice was resolute. She hadn't forgotten her promise to Chase on the shores of Falkirk. "But we would not have been able to get this far this quickly without me being like this. Desperate times…"

Desperate measures, he completed with a small nod. So long as you understand. Power corrupts.

"Please, Slowking. You of all people should know that I have spent countless nights thinking about that very dilemma. I will be fine, I promise you."

Very well. I believe and trust you.

Her mind stuck with Chase for a moment, and she wondered at what layer he might be on. To be honest, Cecilia was surprised they hadn't come across any of their friends. The odds of only crossing paths with grunts over and over were so astronomically low that she understood there must have been forces at play, here. Like when she'd seemingly lost her ACEs as soon as she'd wanted to.

She gestured with a hand. "Let me talk to her again. Gently."

They'd reached a clearing— though maybe calling it that was generous. It was an area of the layer where the trees thinned and gave way to a small, golden yet still transparent pond. And it was small. Tinier and shallower than your average hot tub, and from what she could tell, it was perfectly circular. A ring of golden stones rimmed the water, and it was just as smooth as Lake Valor had been, if not smoother. A bulky Persian who'd been sipping at the golden liquid hissed at them and escaped as soon as they noticed they were there, blurring away with a single leap and kicking up a billow of sand below their path.

Of the few Pokemon they'd seen here, they'd only come across normal types.

Maeve perked up when the Persian showed no signs of returning, and her Infernape and Starmie relaxed next to her. "Good, we need to replenish our water supply and I'm not going to drink Slowking's if I can prevent it—"

"Don't drink the water," Clara warned as Slowking let out a single 'rude'. "You'll never leave this place if you do."

She'd already been grabbing one of their empty flasks from her own backpack. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, we were forewarned by Coronet." Clara took a few steps toward the water and looked at what Cecilia assumed was her reflection, and she smiled. "You can look, though. There are a bunch of these on this layer, they're the only break from the monotonous trees. The monotony might be the point. There's little, yet it's beautiful either way."

Maeve put her hand on Cecilia's shoulder as soon as she took another step, but she shook her head. "She warned us in the first place, and she's looked as well."

"...fine."

She'd been paranoid since she was attacked by that poacher in Pastoria. Cecilia couldn't blame her. She approached the edge of the pool, which hadn't been frozen despite the cold. Yes, it was getting warmer, but the temperature was still below freezing.

Cecilia saw… herself, with her form flickering within the pond. She was without clothes or mask, so she could see her own face. She sported a bright smile— in fact, she looked so elated that she appeared to be the happiest she'd ever been. Her mirrored self didn't respond to her movements, either. She reached out, hand outstretched, and Cecilia felt compelled to do the same.

She did not, though, and her numb hand snapped around Maeve's wrist before she could touch the water.

"Shit!" Maeve yelled— a distorted hiss behind her breathing mask, and she jumped back. "What the fuck was that?"

"Touching is fine." Clara plunged her hand into the water, and it didn't ripple. How strange. "See? I feel no different. I don't get the urge to touch it, though, which is weird. All the other times, I did. Even earlier today."

"We'd rather not," Cecilia said. She glanced at her other self again, who was now frowning. "Let's move on."

"I'm surprised you didn't touch it…"

Cecilia looked at the Galactic grunt. "Temptation is the one thing that I've wrangled with for the past few months. But what's that pond about?"

They started walking again as they spoke. "I don't know much about it. Just that once you taste that water, you'll never want to go anywhere else."

"There are myths about fairies that trick you like this," Maeve warily said.

"No. This has nothing to do with fairies. It's beyond us— I think that if you somehow make anything here part of you, you become part of this ecosystem. It's all strange… I hope I'm being helpful? This is all intrinsic because our great— because Cyrus managed to make us part of Coronet."

"It was, thank you," Cecilia said. "Now, I have a question about Jupiter. How acquainted are you with its capabilities?"

Clara froze at the mention of Commander Jupiter like a cornered Rattata.

"Yes, then. See, I have a little information already," she omitted saying that she'd gotten it from the ACEs shortly after Justin had been revealed to be dead. "But someone on the inside would know more."

The girl audibly swallowed and stopped in her tracks.

"Do not forget the position you are in."

She shrunk. "But…" Cecilia loomed over her. She was far shorter than her, and only slightly taller than Grace was. "She was the only one who…"

"It will abandon you without a second thought. It is poison— a part of the same organization that did this to you." Cecilia tapped the left side of her mask. "And it didn't stop it from happening."

"It…?"

"Just tell her," Maeve hissed.

"I—I don't know much, I promise!" she squealed, waving her arms wildly. "We've barely spoken, and I only saw her fight a few times!"

Cecilia clicked her tongue, yet she persisted.

"Do you think," she began with a forming grin, her hand on Lehmhart's Pokeball, "that it would be able to resist a song that kills?"



"I can walk."

"Grace, don't be an idiot."

I bit the inside of my lip and ignored the irritation rising within my chest. Yes, my legs felt very weak and wobbly, but I'd already been out of it for the last… few hours. Honestly, most of it had been a blur. Flashing lights, loud sounds and voices who I could barely recognize and had associated with people I knew. It was shameful to have been seen in such a weak state, to have been so out of it that I'd hallucinated in front of Maylene, Honey and Sunshine, but at least I'd lived.

I knew from the way we hadn't died from the cold that the Hoarfrost had been beaten, thank the Legends above.

The fact that the League had succeeded was a huge relief that had me breathing easier, even if it had been too close for comfort, but the crisis still wasn't over, even if in someway, it felt like it was getting close. I could see Saturn's charred corpse in the distance. The dragonfire had left his skin blackened and unrecognizable, and the flesh hardened and shrunken against the bones beneath.

The tired satisfaction I'd felt earlier was gone, but I'd let Sunshine admire his work while Maylene had packed and he was as giddy as ever, albeit exhausted. The fire type bled away in a flash of red as I recalled him. He deserved the rest, and Coronet was no longer lethal without him to keep us warm.

I glanced away from the dead body. "What if we try—"

Maylene shoved the folded sleeping bag back in the backpack and closed the zip. "Grace, just get on your damn Electivire's back and stop wasting time." Her complaints had been synced with Honey's, who had spoken at the same time as her to essentially say the same thing.

I shrunk back. "Sorry. I guess I just hate feeling useless."

"You—" She threw her hands up. "Stop sulking. Honey, get her already. Gently."

Electivire quickly listened, grabbing me by the arm and propping me up on his back. He asked if I was well enough to hold on without his help, and I agreed for now, wrapping my arms around his neck and sinking my head into his fur.

"Thanks for watching over me," I softly said.

Honey said that it was mostly Maylene's and Sunshine's work that had kept me alive. He was humble, as always.

"Thanks, Maylene. For saving me."

The Gym Leader strapped the backpack around her shoulders and tapped her feet against the ground. "Well, I wasn't just going to let you die—" she paused, cleared her throat and scratched her arm through her torn gear. "Uh, no problem."

We— or I supposed it was Maylene and Honey— began to walk in earnest, using me for directions. There was something different about traveling now, and before Saturn's death. It felt like I was a part of Coronet again, as if it had realized that Saturn and his loons had tricked it after their deaths and it was rewarding me for my service by… returning to the status quo instead of giving me a little boost.

Capricious as always, but this was better than nothing.

When Honey and Maylene started crossing the first bridge I'd pointed them toward, Maylene peered over the edge and screamed out her name. A few seconds later, the voice came back twisted, like a pale mockery the actual thing just like what had happened to that Sawsbuck.

"Huh. Funny how that works." She cracked her knuckles and touched her left ear. "Hey, is your hearing…?"

My ear hurt, and there was a permanent ring that was starting to annoy me. Hell, I couldn't hear fully out of my right, either, but in my left, the loss was total. Luckily for me, Maylene was a loud speaker and conversation was still possible without many problems.

Arceus, my body hurt.

"My left is fucked," I groaned. "My right… well, it could be worse."

"Oh. My right's already—" Maylene froze and looked at me. "Wait… no. No." The word was full of loss in a way that was torturous to hear. It reminded me of our Gym Battle, and the sudden sickness in my stomach vanished when my brain realized I wasn't at fault.

"What's wrong?" I patted at Honey's back so he would let me down and I slowly approached her. She was tearing up. "Maylene?"

"If my right ear's already recovered," she said in between sobs. "Then it— I think it means my hearing on my left is screwed forever."

Oh.

I'd come to terms with that already, knowing I would worry about it later, but this was Maylene. She was an Aura-user, someone who basically never, ever got hurt in any serious way. Hell, she'd been stabbed in the shoulder earlier and was walking like nothing had even happened.

So to actually be hurt in a permanent way was shocking to her. Unthinkeable, even, but Aura or not, Pokemon were stronger than her. I limped toward her, suddenly glad I hadn't been walking because of how weak my legs felt, and I gave her a short hug while I patted her on the back so she could get all the tears out of her. It was weird with the mask on, but it was better than nothing.

"There are… surgeries, right?" I said, unsure of myself. "Implants, or whatever."

She sniffled. "Grace, surgery is fucking terrifying. They cut you open and stuff, I hate it."

"Yeah, but you don't feel—"

"I know, I just hate the idea of it." Maylene shivered. "Gives me the creeps."

"I guess."

She wiped her eyes. They were red and her lower eyelids were puffed up. "Let's just keep going. Get back on Honey."

"I can—"

"You can get back, yes. Don't think that just because I was crying I didn't see you struggle to take a measly five steps."

Sighing, I agreed and Honey picked me up after patting Maylene on the shoulder.

The next layer awaited us.



It was difficult to hum with the heavy sounds of Garchomp's steps. Cynthia had taken to piano when she'd first become the Champion as a hobby she could actually get into even when her days had been spent stuck at the Lily of the Valley. Easier to play piano than to go explore whatever new ruins had been found that year, which was funny because as soon as she'd gotten the authority to actually get clearance to access those, she'd been chained to a desk to work. The plan had been to create herself a theme— something to announce her entry when a challenger reached her, yet none had done so yet, even when the Old Guard preceding her Elite Four had attempted to throw matches to unseat her. Bertha had been enough to hold any challengers away, back then.

She had missed this. Her and her team in the middle of nowhere with no one to buzz in her ears about whatever crisis she needed to attend to immediately. Despite the situation being quite the catastrophe, Cynthia found herself in a better mood than she'd been in months. Garchomp treaded through the golden fields of Coronet's final floor, groaning in annoyance at Glaceon, who was sitting around her neck, tail swishing across the dragon's back. It was good that the cold was receding. It had been a gamble, to send Flint, Aaron and Craig without her, but it seemed like it had worked out.

Though the possibility of one of them being dead was not zero. Cynthia ignored the pragmatic side of her brain she could never shut down that immediately started to calculate which person would be the most expendable, which death would be the worst for Sinnoh as a whole, and not her own feelings. She'd deal with that when the time came, even if a pit of anxiety had been growing deep in her stomach.

Golden fields as far as the eye could see, yet a single archway at the center of this layer would lead them upward— right below the ball of raging fire that acted as this place's sun, and from which all light filtered down the mountain. It hadn't moved in the few hours she had been here, and Cynthia knew that this place knew not what night was. This was only her first time getting to Spear Pillar through the inside of the mountain, and the breadth of life she'd seen here had been lower than in the reports. Granted, Regice had been acting up, but this place was meant to be home to a plethora of normal types, along with a few dragons, fairies and ice types, and Spear Pillar being so close should have kept Regice's reach at bay, at least in the early stages. Instead, it was simply a stretch of golden grassland with a few hills and depressions thrown in-between.

"Nothing but grass, hm? We should be close enough, now."

Cynthia took off her oxygen mask, her hood, and shook her head to untangle her hair. Garchomp purred with a deep trill in her throat at the sight of her trainer's face, but her purring took a worrying tone soon enough.

"You're right, but something tells me it's supposed to be this way. It's like I said before. There are echoes of remembrance… they give me goosebumps."

Glaceon hopped off Garchomp's back, which the dragon was very grateful for, and rubbed the side of her head against Cynthia's knee. It was thanks to her, that Cynthia hadn't had to bother fighting against the cold.

"Not visions. Nightmares. The distinction is important."

The ice type laughed, an ethereal and distant sound she'd long grown used to.

Cynthia ran her hand along the prickly tall grass. "Oh, I know they mean something. Otherwise I wouldn't have been a part of this. I wouldn't feel the tug."

It had been subtle, at first. A barely audible whisper behind an ear. Now that she was so close to the summit, however, it was a veritable force that pulled her, as if someone had wrapped a rope around her waist and was guiding her to the stairway up to Spear Pillar. She had never felt this before, not the first and only time she had touched Spear Pillar with her own two feet, but she supposed she hadn't known about her predecessor back then, and the world hadn't been about to end. Cynthia did not like putting much importance on stories. She believed that its core, the world was a chaotic mess where individuals could break free of the chains it had imposed onto them. A fairy's reliance on a story was a weakness, a weakness that could be exploited very easily, because it made them predictable.

Either way.

This one? This one had weight behind it. The weight of a bloodline originating thousands of years before she'd been born. It had been Grace, who had first told her about Volo through Mesprit. His last name had not been Collins, as far as she knew, but he'd somehow had a child before going insane and deciding to reach Godhood, and now here she was, generations later, attempting to save the world where her ancestor had attempted to destroy it entirely.

Coronet recognized her. It had led her up, even after the Lake Guardians had entered the mountain, sowing chaos in every corner, and she knew what paths would lead to the summit. She'd slept a few times here, and she'd been wracked by dreams from Volo's point of view. Fragments alone did not mean much, but as a whole, they formed a detailed picture of what had happened all those thousands of years ago.

She had relied on the Lake Guardian's chosen, and they had failed. Twice. So Cynthia had devised a plan. A last-ditch effort to save the world, though she was certain it would entail some… problems in the long term. Still, better that than losing the entire universe.

"It should only be an hour away, now," she warned her two Pokemon. Three, if you counted Spiritomb's inactive state. They'd tried flying toward, both with Garchomp and Togekiss, but Coronet prevented them from reaching Spear Pillar from the skies. They had been forced to walk.

She did not bother asking them if they were prepared. Her Pokemon would unfortunately not be a part of her plan, though they would buy time for her if Cyrus got any ideas. She had an inkling the man had already reached the summit, or was close to it. Garchomp squinted at the sun and growled irritatingly.

Cynthia laughed. "Let's not pick fights with Godly constructs, shall we? I've had enough of that for a lifetime."

Glaceon chuckled alongside her, and Garchomp mimicked stepping on her to squash her head. The ice type bled into ice, becoming a small tuft of snow that reformed to Cynthia's right, the opposite side that Garchomp was flanking her on.

"A real question," Cynthia hummed, shielding her eyes from the sun as she stared upward. She couldn't see the cave's ceiling from here. This place mimicked the sky, except that it was golden. "Pokemon, or not?"

Glaceon tilted her head and murmured.

"It could be a domain holder, but I doubt it? Not much can get influence this close to Spear Pillar. If I had to guess, it'd just be a thing. Not alive."

Garchomp grunted with a shrug that resonated with the grinding of her scales, and grass bent under her feet.

"That's the beauty of it, isn't it? We don't know," she said with a satisfied smile. "And I think that's wonderful. The unknown, that is. It'd be depressing to live in an era that knows everything."

The dragon rolled her eyes.

"Come on. You used to be just as curious as I was. What's wrong with a little childlike wonder?"

Glaceon snickered and climbed back on Garchomp's shoulders. She was, as always, too lazy to walk herself.

"It's a good thing Milotic isn't here to reign me in, then," she agreed.

Alas, her carefree climb up Coronet was coming to an end. Wind blew across her flapping, dark coat and she passed the time by talking about the wonders of this place and Zoroark, which was a topic for another day. They were making progress, but he would be of no use here.

Soon, she came upon the stairway.

They were golden and almost transparent, albeit hewn from Coronet itself. She could tell from the way her feet felt on the stairs that they were made of stone. Their edges and state were still pristine, almost as if they were completely new. No dust, debris or cracks had touched these stairs, and none ever would. With each step, the sound of her own footsteps echoed off the clear stairs, a solemn drumbeat heralding her approach to the summit from which Arceus had crafted this entire planet. The trek up was endless and instantaneous at the same time, and like the first time she had been atop Spear Pillar and crossed that same arch woven in boney white, gold and green that needed to be walked through from no matter where you approached—

Cynthia broke down into tears and inhaled the warm air.

This was too moving for words.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, androide, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, Kcx1, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R
 
Last edited:
Chapter 315 - Danse Macabre
CHAPTER 315 - DANSE MACABRE

With Clara came more fighting, and each group of Galactic grunts was tougher to deal with than the last. Larger, more robust, more adaptable, and most importantly, willing to use Coronet favoring them as a way to stay hidden and harass them with hit-and-run tactics. Maeve's team were on their last legs, and they'd used all of their potions to keep them from fainting, yet they could no longer fight. Even Starmie had been hit by numerous dark and electric type moves that had the water type dangerously weak. Luckily, the cold from Regice was largely gone, now. It had left slowly, at first, and then exponentially.

Despite how much Maeve had insisted on keeping Cecilia's Pokemon healthy, the next group of grunts they'd come across, the Unovan would have to deal with.

Clara seemed to be gripped by a mental anguish that only grew each time a group of grunts were dealt with. Perhaps she was getting second thoughts about betraying her cause. Her fellow Galactic members certainly didn't seem to pay her collaboration any mind, or at least none that Cecilia had noticed. The most they afforded her was a single look with wide eyes, but no words had ever been exchanged. If there had been, Cecilia doubted Clara would have had the courage to respond to their accusations regardless.

"We… should be close to the pathway to the final layer," Clara mumbled under her breath. "The forest gets kind of dense around here, but trust me, okay?"

Cecilia raised an eyebrow. "What? I didn't say anything."

Clara simply responded with an 'eek' and flinched away from her, and the grunt's hand brushed against one of the tall, thick trees that littered this layer. Even after seeing the same thing over and over for the last Arceus knew how many hours, none of the wonder was lost to them. The drums of the bristling tree leaves had Cecilia feeling more and more uncomfortable, as of late, and this one had her repulsed.

"I apologize if I frightened you." Relief at last allowed her to breathe easily again. Maeve just stared straight ahead, and Slowking kept track of their surroundings. "Like I said, you won't get hurt. You've been helpful."

"As long as I can…" she trailed off. "Legendaries," she ended with a sigh. "I— there's nothing left waiting for me. They might— they might fry my brain."

Cecilia's hand hovered over her Pokeballs until Slowking shook his head at her. Right. She's harmless. "Galactic will be dealt with, so they won't have any reason to. I'm sure they'll repeal the law again sooner rather than later."

"I had— I had second thoughts before Mars picked me up. I wanted to leave because I missed my parents," Clara meekly said. "But I was scared…"

Ah, scared of getting her memories extracted by a League psychic. Ironic, that a policy made to intimidate and make Galactic feel cornered might have contributed to making their members feel stuck where they were. Cynthia was a smart woman. She must have known this would happen, but Cecilia supposed she had gambled that the information they would get out of the grunts would be worth it if she could prevent them from enacting their final plan.

Of course, they were all in Coronet now, so it had not.

"None of it matters." Her tone was harried and defeated. "I'll have to deal with it, I guess. I wanted to help people and work on dreams— Sorry. I'm rambling and annoying. Sorry."

Cecilia perked up. "They do plenty of dream research in—"

"Unova! Yes, I know I— wait, I shouldn't interrupt you."

The conversation reached its natural endpoint there. Cecilia knew she could have extended it some, but Clara kept stopping herself from speaking her mind and she was too tired keep speaking anyway. When they reached a denser part of the woods and began to hear the familiar howl signifying the staircase up.

"Clara," Maeve began. "You seem to have had a good relationship with your parent, and I'll ignore the fact that you were willing to kill them with all of these plans to destroy the world." She gestured around herself.

"And create a new one where you'd all be happy," she reprimanded hastily. "S—sorry. But even you would have been brought back, and we would have made a world without strife or conflict."

Maeve scoffed. "Oh, did Cyrus tell you that?"

"He… did."

"Well I'm sure he's very trustworthy." She rolled her eyes. "Anyway, what pushed you to join?"

"I, um." The grunt scratched the side of her arm and looked away. "Nothing was going right for me, I guess. I couldn't catch a fucking break, and everything was collapsing around me. I— I was failing all of my college classes and my parents had to remortgage their house to keep me going, but I failed again and… I couldn't get out of bed…" There were tears in the corner of her eyes. "I don't know. I wanted something to look forward to. To be good enough to study dreams. Then I was approached by a recruiter and she gave me hope again. She met with me so many times and kept believing in me."

There was nothing left to be said. An apology almost left Cecilia's lips, but she bit down on it and kept it in. The next layer was close, now.

The trees were denser than they'd ever been, save for a narrow path that led straight to the chasm up.

In front of it stood Commander Jupiter and her entire team, crouching with a lazy look in her eye. While her grunts had looked tired, her face looked bright and her hair was still done. Slaking was lying down and slowly scratching its belly while Delcatty lounged on top of its massive arm. Girafarig, who was standing at attention, tilted its head at Cecilia and the others while its tail snapped and shook at the sight of them. Tangrowth stopped throwing a softball up and down with a vine and let it fall onto the earth with a soft thud while Stantler barely seemed to notice them at all. Skuntank, meanwhile, was clawing at the ground and eager to get into a fight.

I couldn't even feel her, Slowking said with a vocal gasp. He instantly summoned a barrier in front of them, in case Jupiter attacked. Delcatty jumped off Slaking and hit Girafarig with her tail, creating a barrier of their own.

"Well, well, well. Look at what the Meowth dragged in," It drawled. Its voice alone was enough to make Cecilia's nose wrinkle. The Commander rose to its feet and patted down its behind. "Clara, too?" The grunt flinched and hid behind Slowking. "You go, girl! I wasn't sure if you had the guts to actually leave or not after I gave you some support."

Maeve clicked her tongue. "You expected her to betray you?"

"I thought it was a possibility. It doesn't really matter, though. You would have made your way here anyway eventually. It was worth the entertainment."

"Don't engage with it," Cecilia said. "That's how it gets in your head."

She analyzed the Commander for a few seconds, but it didn't actually unleash its Pokemon onto them. Strangely, all it did was watch with an annoying smirk that had Cecilia want to break something.

Ten seconds passed. They felt like an eternity.

Cecilia took a deep breath, a malformed hiss through her mask. "Go, Maeve."

Maeve's hands dropped to her side. "Excuse me—"

"Barriers aren't going to work well against her team, so even if you used Starmie you'd just be putting him in danger," she calmly explained. She'd expected to be overtaken by uncontrollable rage that would have made her see red. Made her fists clench and shake to the point of pain. Made her bite down on her tongue not to scream. Instead, there was only cold. "I have a plan. Go and rest. You've brought me far enough and you'll only get in the way."

"Wh—what about me?" Clara asked with a quivering voice. "I—"

"Go with her." There was no hesitation; a promise was a promise. "You've earned it. Without me here to keep you tethered to Coronet, you should have an easy trip down with Maeve so long as you wish to stay with her."

The grunt nodded with a meek squeak of appreciation, made herself small and scooted over to Maeve, who spared Cecilia one last look before leaving without a word. They had never been the closest of friends, had they? Nevertheless, their time together in Coronet had forged a bond, and Cecilia found herself thinking that she would make an excellent ACE Trainer. The Unovan lowered her hood and ran her grimy gloved hands through her hair, which was nearly unmoving in the stale air of the sixth layer, and Slowking took a deep breath. She could still hear Maeve and Clara's steps as she released the rest of her team around her. Lehmhart appeared on one knee and slowly got up as his insides hummed with machinery, yet his huge size did not manage to even come close to towering over the golden trees. Talonflame took to the air, and finally, air whipped around Cecilia as the flying type kept herself afloat. Scizor and Toxicroak had already bled into the golden woods, and Hydreigon was foaming at the mouth to get himself acquainted with Jupiter.

All appeared golden under this place's light, including the Commander's Pokemon and the monster itself.

"Gee, already? I let your friends escape, didn't I? You can't even afford me a single conversation?" The Commander placed her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "Why don't we talk for like, two minutes before we start killing each other? Murder's murder, but we can be civil about it, can't we?"

Cecilia scanned her surroundings, not bothering to answer. Buying a few minutes for her to get into the correct mindset for this battle wouldn't hurt, and Slowking was still scanning the surroundings to see if any grunts would ambush them during the fight. The environment wasn't in anyone's favor, but she figured Scizor and Toxicroak would navigate the forest well if they needed to while the largest Pokemon would be able to stay in the central corridor. Talonflame wasn't as good at narrow turns as she'd once been, but so long as she controlled her speed…

"Talk." The words were harsh out of her mouth. Deep set and more of a growl than actual words.

The creature beamed, and the quirk of her lip made Cecilia nauseous. So human. So fucking human, like a woman she'd smile at as a thank you after she held a door for her, and yet she was not. "Cecilia Obel, right?" She crouched and poked a finger into the silver sand, and her Slaking sighed at her. "You know, I look at you and I see… hm, I see a fascinating child."

Cecilia had gathered as much information as she could out of ACE Trainers and Clara. Her team had a rigid structure that was never broken. First were the supportive Pokemon, Stantler, Girafarig and Delcatty. These always, always hung back and worked to help keep Jupiter and the rest of her team alive, whether that be Girafarig's psychic powers, Stantler's quick Hypnosis, or Delcatty's… healing. She still hadn't figured out what that was, but it sure as hell wasn't Wish. Her other three Pokemon— Tangrowth, Slaking and Skuntank, were juggernauts who used overwhelming power to their advantage. They could easily tear through the toughest of barriers with a rudimental understanding of darkness (or in Slaking's case, just muscle) and were capable of overpowering any of her own Pokemon save for Golurk and perhaps Hydreigon.

"What do you see?" Cecilia asked with a frown. Keep her talking.

"Well, it's not just you, it's all of your little group, but it's the first time I actually look at one of you," it said with an infuriating nonchalance. "It's your eyes, I think. I see 'em through the mask thanks to this obnoxious lighting." It gestured above itself in annoyance. "There's no innocence left, and I find that interesting, you know? This entire year," it crossed its arms, "We've pushed and prodded at Sinnoh and the world itself, and to finally see the consequences of that one someone's face is… it's fucking exhilarating," it finished with a shy smile. "It's a little bit of a dream of mine, so thanks."

Die.

Die, die, die, die, die.
There was fire in her throat, scorching and wanting to tear its way out of her mouth; the desperation to tell her to die, but there was none of the power behind it. Cecilia delved deep into her reserves and found them lacking. Two to three hours left. There was no way that battle was going to last this long, not when Jupiter was a quick and ruthless fighter.

"The road you walked to get here must have been hard, but you aren't broken. I'm a little obsessed with the human condition, you see? I like figuring out what makes people tick. For example, I like I said, I kind of figured Clara would defect," Jupiter explained. "I wanted to see if she'd actually do it despite the danger and her dream just… disappearing, and she did." Its eyes looked at the golden light above her. "She threw it all away for a chance to live an extra few hours, or maybe days."

"Well," the monster stood up, stretched, and sand fell back from the fist onto the ground, "that was it from me. Anything you want to say before we throw hands and figure out who gets out of this alive?"

You engineered the death of over ten thousand people.

You killed one of my best friends. One of the kindest, most innocent souls I had ever met, even after his condition.


There came no response or no signal. Cecilia jumped atop Zolst's back, but her hold was awkward. Her gloves nearly slipped from his neck scales, and she had to clasp a hand around one of his wings to steady herself while the dragon took flight. Her Pokemon below had already scattered, and a thin invisible floor formed below Slowking to allow him to follow her into the skies. With how tall the trees were, hiding above the foliage would have hurt her more than helped, so they decided to stay low where they could observe Jupiter and its Pokemon's movements. As predicted, Tangrowth, Skuntank and Slaking had burst forward, leaving behind them trails of silver sand which flew everywhere because of Talonflame's Tailwind she'd thrown out to slow them down.

Skuntank was the fastest of the three, reaching Golurk in a blur of purple with extended claws wreathed in a swirling darkness that was difficult to stare away from. It cut across Lehmhart's leg and left three huge gashes oozing with void, but did not bother to stop to continue attacking him. Instead, Skuntank kept going, dashing in between the thick trees of the golden woods.

It knows. It knew where Toxicroak and Scizor were despite the fact that they'd hidden, and it was looking for one or both of them. Cecilia warned them with a scream that rippled in her throat. Talonflame waved one of her wings to launch a set of feathers, sharpened with steel and wreathing with blue fire. The first few buried themselves into the sand right behind Skuntank, and the soil smothered the flames like a candle between a wet towel, but the rest were propelled up by a sudden gust of wind and stabbed into the poison type's back. Cecilia could only see Skuntank slow enough for Toxicroak to narrowly bend back to dodge the coming Slash before it exploded with a noxious poison that she could taste in her throat, but they disappeared into the forest before long.

It was Slaking, she worried about. Heat scorched her hands when Hydreigon gathered a Dragon Pulse in his throat to fire at the normal type, and Slowking raised an arm next to them. It was difficult to see, but with each wave of his hand, he was firing an invisible disk at both Tangrowth and Slaking. The latter growled when the first gouged out his gut, but the wound instantly closed when Delcatty sang, and the next, Slaking either hit out of the way by pure chance or Girafarig blocked with its own barriers. Zolst's Dragon Pulse met a similar fate, though some of it did break through and singed the edge of the normal type's skin.

Again, though, the burns afforded to Slaking's skin were simply healed.

Golurk stomped a foot, and an Earthquake rippled across the earth, yet it did not shatter, nor split. It only shook, and the ground itself stayed intact. Slaking leaped, its arm windmilled in the air, and it grabbed onto one of the trees to quickly change directions toward Golurk to avoid another wave of feathers from Talonflame. The ghost type was more agile than he had once been, and he was ready. His fists went up and music screeched out of him, accompanied with purple flames leaking out of every crevice, every hole, every nook and cranny of his skin. There was no start to the song. It began already at its climax, and Slaking clenched its teeth as it landed a glowing punch onto Lehmhart, shattering a hastily put-together barrier that Slowking had put up—

A shockwave ran through Cecilia and sent more dirt flying into her face and hair. The air flew out of her lungs, forcefully expelled like something had punched her in the gut, and it felt like her entire body had been hit by a collective slap. Yet, she looked. Having brought his arms into a protective guard, Lehmhart's legs buckled under the weight of Slaking's strike, and his arm bent, and yet he still stood. Here he was, guardian of a tower for centuries and now having taken on the role of guardian of this team. Before the normal type could land, Golurk punched him in the gut in one smooth motion and sent him flying back, but a…

Barrier was accurate, but this one bent like a mattress, and it caught Slaking before it could land on the ground and bounced him back at Lehmhart immediately, courtesy of Stantler. Stantler's the one who can affect texture, then, but Girafarig remains the main muscle behind them. Slowking slowed him down some, but multiple things worked against him. First was Slaking's weight and momentum. Second, Girafarig joined in on the fray and he couldn't win against two psychics or psychic-adjacent Pokemon. A thicket of vines wrapped around Lehmhart's leg, allowing Tangrowth to pull to make him trip, and Slaking landed one of those glowing punches right in the ground type's face.

The second strike was nothing like the first. Slaking's hit sent Lehmhart tumbling back like a ragdoll, and instead of ripping through trees, they stopped him dead in his fall as if they were an inviolable part of the environment. His body slumped against the bark, but he summoned a flurry of Shadow Balls all over his body that buried themselves behind Tangrowth's vine-filled body, forcing the grass type to hide behind one of the trees while Hydreigon screamed out another Dragon Pulse to block Slaking's path.

It did not work. Again, it prioritized attack over safety and it wildly threw itself into the blast to rid itself of what it no doubt saw as the biggest threat, spraying spittle with every roar, yet Golurk managed to temporarily stop it with a Bulldoze, specialized to slow rather than hurt. Hydreigon growled in annoyance at the sight of a battle he could not join fully.

"Soon," she whispered in Zolst's ear. Her riding on his back meant that he couldn't unleash his full power, but a torrent of unordered darkness left his three mouths and penetrated deep into the sand until it reached Jupiter's feet. It was Stantler that stopped the attack this time, with a particular gray, almost too dim to notice light that dissolved the Dark Pulse before it could reach them. Cecilia knew that move all too well, given that it was a staple of Slowking's arsenal. Disable, but to what extent could Stantler use it? When she whispered to Zolst to attempt to channel more darkness, she realized it had been cut off entirely. There would be no more Crunch, nor would there be any dark type moves.

She looked back to Lehmhart, whose shifting of the ground had forced Slaking to jump again. The ghost type lifted one of his arms, and smoke and purple light diffused from a section near his elbow. The forearm burst forward, a rocket-propelled fist shining with the familiar glow of Hammer Arm— Slaking's face twisted in surprise and horror, and the fist penetrated through the glass-like shields afforded to him by Girafarig. Fire— blue fire from Talonflame wrapped around it like a glove as the flying type swooped from somewhere Cecilia hadn't been looking, and more wind propelled the fist to greater speeds until the air itself twisted, morphed, got out of its way like a living being cowering under another's might.

Even in fight such as this one, Cecilia could not help but admire the power her team had at its disposal.

The impact shattered something, she wasn't sure what. Slaking's chest went concave, and blood spurted from his eyes and open mouth, teeth were chipped and shattered, and after the blood came the bile. Once again, a squishy barrier caught Slaking before it could hit the ground, but this time the side of his arm hit one of the trees and the bark scraped bits of his skin off.

Golden. It was all golden like ichor, soaking and trailing down the silver dirt.

"Now!" she yelled. She pushed herself off Hydreigon and clumsily landed on Slowking's platform just in time for the dragon to set itself loose as a draconic force swarmed around every inch of his scales.

Cecilia had worked out this battle. She had played it in her mind over and over again, peeling away at layer and layer of plans of action in case one or the other didn't work. The most obvious one had been to target the support Pokemon giving the others so much help. It was subtle, but she could see how it affected the entire fight, and the fact that three of Jupiter's were overpowering her was saying a lot about their strength. Toxicroak and Scizor were weaving in and out, hiding behind trees to escape from Skuntank's wrath, but the poison type was faster than them, and more agile. It easily kept up with both of them and the poison it released with every flex of its sinuous muscle corroded Scizor's metallic shell.

Toxicroak was better off, but she was weaker. Her hits did not carry as much weight, and now there was a Tangrowth to contend with. The grass type hadn't moved from its spot and was still using too many vines to count to counter the coming threat that was Hydreigon. They shied away from Zolst's draconic coat like terrified children, and those that did make it, he burned or destroyed with the snapping bites of his hands—

But the point was, not only were Tangrowth's vines far more powerful in their consistency, they could stretch further than Angel's, and the grass type had snaked them under the soil. Energy Balls and gusts of grass— of Leaf Storms formed at the tips of these bundled-up vines and forced Toxicroak on the defensive. Her hands moved faster than Cecilia could see, and she took refuge in Skuntank's poisonous cloud that would be harmless to her, but Tangrowth's vines began to glow and regenerate, following her into the mist without a moment's hesitation. In an effort to catch Toxicroak up to her teammates, Cecilia had not diversified her tactics enough, and that made her predictable. She fought like what someone would expect a Toxicroak to fight, and that was even more of an issue given that Jupiter's fellow Commander owned one.

They were buying time. That was all she could ask for.

A roar made her turn back toward Hydreigon, who bore the full weight of his power into Slaking's continuously regenerating hide, and she allowed a toothy grin to split her face when even Jupiter seemed surprised at the fact that her Slaking could possibly be matched in strength by something other than a Golurk. It screamed as one of the heads tore into his shoulder and the other two aimed for its neck, but it was strong enough to keep them both at bay, even with the continuously flashing Scary Faces that Cecilia thanked the Legendaries she wasn't in front of. Common strategy ingrained into every ACE's mind would dictate to target the psychic first, especially when one— well, not a psychic, but a psychic adjacent— could heal with only its voice.

So what if, Cecilia had asked herself, she overpowered the healing instead? Now back on his feet and his fist having flown back into its socket, Lehmhart broke into a jog, took one, two, three treps toward Slaking—

"Oh man, you really are something. I think I'll remember this one for a long time," Jupiter lazily drawled between Slaking's pained grunts. "Skuntank, get back here."

Cecilia's eye twitched. She heard the poison type running before she even saw it, and when she did, Skuntank danced in-between the trees in and out of view before jumping on thick steps of vines Tangrowth had set up that could somehow support its weight—

Toward her. Not to save Slaking.

Of course. She was fighting a monster, how could she have—

Slowking flinched. My lady—

It happened so quickly. A brisk rise an altitude to dodge Skuntank at first, but it simply used the trees as support— jumping on their smooth, vertical surface— to get up to their level quicker and launched poisonous air ahead of itself as it gathered a Night Slash within its claws. Slowking waved a hand, sucking up all the noxious fumes in tight psychic bubbles, but stopping Skuntank itself was another matter entirely. Six spheres of water materialized around her and all converged into six single points faster than she could blink. Six Water Cutters. Six opportunities to take out Skuntank before it could reach them.

It did not stop even when one of the water jets poked out its right eye, nor when another carved a line in its flank. The momentum from its jumps was too much, and pain, Cecilia finally understood, was not a limiting factor.

Cecilia felt a force tug behind her and was thrown back.

Back.

She was falling. Shit! She tumbled uncontrollably through the air, unable to even see what was happening in the battle beyond a few flashes which were hard to recognize given that everything but dark type moves was golden. A scream rippled through her throat, growing louder the closer she got to the ground. There was a thump, and a deep-set pain in her ribs and stomach when something— Scizor. Scizor had jumped to catch her. His exoskeleton was coarse and brittle, but he could still move just as fast as before. Scizor suddenly twisted his body with a pained grunt, shutting his eyes as Cecilia tumbled onto the dirt.

He must have gotten hit, was her thought when she finally came to a stop.

Everything hurt so bad. Raising herself with her two arms had her feeling like her entire body was broken. Each breath she drew through her mask was as if someone had fucking stabbed her in the ribs. Her face— her face felt wet and warm. She was lightheaded… why? She ignored the fighting all around her and brought a hand to her mask, finding it torn in the middle, and she scrambled through her League-issued backpack to find a new one as Slowking landed fifteen feet in front of her with a loud thud, his form bleeding. Countless claw marks had ripped through his stomach, face and shell.

That sinking feeling in her stomach, that everything was collapsing? Cecilia ignored it and swapped masks before she could…

The inside of her other mask was wet with gold. Her own blood, she understood. Her hands were full of it, too. That was why her face felt wet. Cecilia touched it and hissed in agony when every nerve in her face told her not to touch the gash in her face. Blood was pouring over her right eye and making it difficult to see, but she put on the new mask regardless, stood up for the first time in twenty seconds with shaking knees, and she took a quivering, pained breath as Talonflame landed beside her with a worried squawk.

A calm settled over her. Not a soothing one, but a cold fury that felt like ice in her very veins.

Scizor and Toxicroak were still acting as a team and had moved to target Tangrowth, who wielded masses of vines like heavy clubs that they struggled to cut through now that it had regathered them to its body. Occasionally, Scizor would fire off beams of Bug Blast in hopes of overwhelming Jupiter's protective cocoon, but overwhelming three minds of that level wouldn't be something brute force was capable of. She… it was difficult through the golden light and her bleeding right eye, but she could tell Tangrowth had been hurt some and it wasn't healing anywhere as fast. Delcatty was prioritizing Slaking at all costs.

Slaking appeared to have recovered from that massive Hammer Arm, though it was slowed and tired. It was an impressive specimen that somehow worked beyond the constraint of Truant, so she doubted injuries would have it reconsider, especially when all of Delcatty's attention was on him. It traded blows with Lehmhart, going toe-to-toe with the ground type in terms of strength and was faster to move. Faster to reach his vulnerable joints, faster to block incoming strikes, or dodge them, in the case of Hammer Arm.

That was the good news.

"Help Lehmhart," she told Talonflame. Her voice was hoarse and more tired than her mind was.

Talonflame listened and took to the skies with a force that had Cecilia stumble to the side.

It seemed like her plan had failed. Cecilia realized she'd been overconfident and consumed by the desire to kill and remove the threat that was Jupiter to the point of blindness.

Hydreigon was foaming at the mouth and had resettled their attention on Skuntank, whose attacks seemed to grow weaker under his gaze. It was how, she assumed, he had survived the tussle with Slaking. She'd done the same thing in the battle with Crasher Wake, so she was glad to see their hits weakening under the pressure of his Draconic Aegis. Occasionally, Skuntank would try to dash in toward her or Slowking, but one of Hydreigon's mouths would snap shut around one of its legs or throat, keeping it there until it managed to slip out using poisonous fumes. The dragon's mouths were deteriorating, and fast. She didn't know if he'd even be able to close them in a minute, let alone thirty seconds.

Slowking was slowly getting up, but she doubted he would have the power to do anything else. She recalled him as bloodied hands marked his Pokeball and released him next to her so he wouldn't have to walk. He was imperative to her victory now that she'd realized the first plan wasn't going to work and she was in no position to execute the second, as was Golurk, which was why Talonflame had gone to help. The bird dashed in and out of the fight, expertly dodging the stray hits that Girafarig tried to sneak in with blasts of concentrated psychic energy— colors that blurred with different shades of gold that she assumed should have been a rainbow.

"I'm surprised you're still standing. Most would have given up already, I mean, you're in an awful position here."

Cecilia blinked. It took a bit for the words to register in her mind. To see something like this monster still talk while their Pokemon were fighting for their lives. More silver dirt sprayed all across her stomach and legs as Slaking barely dodged a punch from Golurk and pulled him in by his arm, using his own momentum against him. The normal type lead him into a vicious punch in the gut that shook the earth and her very bones.

She tried to open her mouth— not to respond to Jupiter, but to talk to Slowking, whose form was hunched over and breathing harshly in an attempt to recover from what Skuntank had unleashed upon him— but just opening her mouth hurt, as if it had been wired shut. It felt like rusted hinges creaking painfully with each attempt to speak, swallow or breathe through it, and every single time, she tasted blood in her mouth. It was metallic and almost sweet. Ignore it. You're stronger than a little pain.

"We're doing the song," she whispered.

N—no, Slowking bumbled. I'm not in a state to protect—

Her voice was smooth as Johtohan silk the second time. "We're doing the song," she repeated, and just so calmly, too. Almost too calm. She supposed she was resigning to her fate. "Face it, Slowking, we're losing. Our strongest position was right at the beginning of the fight, and I squandered it."

Scizor clamped down on the tight, packet of vines wrapping around his throat and barely managed to escape with a blast of concentrated light that tore through the appendages, but she could see the distress in his eyes, even when she could barely see out of her right one because of all the blood. It was that look he made when he faced an opponent stronger than he was, and he just couldn't comprehend it. It was anathema to his very being, and so instead, he raged and cut across Tangrowth's flank with an X-Scissor on the way to Jupiter's protective bubble. He slid back behind a tree to hide from that concentrated psychic blast and then glided across the ground to reach his target, but a vine from Tangrowth clasped onto his leg and had him trip face-first into the dirt before squeezing.

She heard something break, and it was hard not to picture an industrial shredder crushing scrap metal at the sight of Scizor's leg being crushed before Toxicroak managed to break him out with a Cross Poison. He could barely even limp from then on and started hovering instead, which strained his stamina even more considering his weight and how fast heat would build up within his body. Toxicroak spat, and large amount of sludge melted the protective layer of vines around Tangrowth, yet they were slower to dissolve than normal and those that did regrew at a rapid pace.

Slaking was more agile than Lehmhart, even if the golem had grown leaps and bounds in that department, and he had found his groove. The normal type seemed to speed up and grow stronger the longer the fight went on, and Delcatty didn't only heal him, now. He seemed to speed up and grow stronger at certain tunes of her voice, and she could almost see it reach him. Golurk did land some hits, and with each impact came the crescendo of a tune, yet he was hit five times as much due to his larger size. Talonflame spun around, high above Jupiter, and a twisting, flaming tornado took hold that neatly dissolved due to Stantler's interference. The normal type hadn't done much this fight and hadn't even used Hypnosis, but she was starting to understand that he might have specialized in Disable and Hypnosis and only those two. Did it matter how weak it was offensively if Slaking, Tangrowth and Skuntank could do the work of a full team of six on their own?

Wait.

The sound. Just like Lehmhart, Delcatty was possibly working with sound, here.

"One last attempt." Cecilia groaned and shut her eyes tightly. God, it hurt. "Do you think sound is key to Delcatty's healing and… other abilities?"

The water type held onto his side, yet he sent a flurry of transparent discs to aid Hydreigon, and they managed to hamper Skuntank some, but just like he'd said, they were far too weak to do anything but distract at best, and the dark type was excellent at ignoring pain. Better than Slaking or Tangrowth. Still, the fact that he'd been rendered so weak after a few hits was proof that she was outmatched in her domain of expertise— power.

Instead of fighting fire with she should have tried this from the very beginning.

"Save your energy," she rasped, followed by a few coughs. She wished she still had a few potions remaining, but taking down so many grunts on the way up had taken its toll on her supplies.

I could try, but again… I'm not sure sound is the whole of it. I've watched— a few tired breaths interrupted his thoughts. He sat down and closed his eyes to use Slack Off, but Skuntank's wounds seemed to fester, still. Arceus damn it! I've studied them during the fight, and there's a psychic component to the move. I've read this in a book, but it resembles Heal Pulse the most, combined with sound and changed to reflect the user. It's grown far beyond that now, but the concept should be similar.

Studied was a… word, considering the fight had barely lasted four minutes at best, but she trusted his judgment.

"But we may weaken it."

He shrugged. It's three against one, he said, looking at Girafarig, Stantler and Delcatty. And I'm not at one hundred percent. He laughed and blood leaked out of the claw-shaped wound on his chest with each heave. Far from it, in fact. I'm bleeding like a Lechonk—

"Try."


Slowking shut his eyes. In-between the battling, in-between Hydreigon blasting Dragon Pulses at Skuntank with his broken jaws, Slaking ripping off one of Golurk's arm and using it as a stick to hit him with, Talonflame slashing Tangrowth with air sharpened like blades, Scizor keeping his distance as best he could due to his limp and Toxicroak stabbing the grass type with a poisoned blade extended twenty inches long, the air itself quivered before going still like it originally was. Jupiter's form blurred, as did her Pokemon, and their voices suddenly grew distant.

Cecilia looked at Slaking and noticed that his healing had slowed. That, in combination with the fact that Delcatty probably was tiring, could have been enough at the start of the battle.

Now?

The fight had tilted in his favor long ago. Cecilia screamed at Talonflame, ignoring the burning agony on her face as her face twisted in horror and Slaking hit the ghost type under his armpit and knocked his remaining arm out of its artificial socket. Lehmhart tried a kick next, but Slaking rolled on the ground and pulled on his ankle. The golem fell back and Talonflame submerged Slaking in a bubble of air that she struggled in for two seconds before he bellowed and simply broke out of. If only she still had access to her fire… damn it, damn it!

It didn't matter. She'd made a mistake at the beginning of the fight, and her Pokemon would pay for it.

Slowking looked at her with what she could only describe as pure horror as a realization settled deep within him. Already, his large barrier which he had wrapped around Jupiter's like a bubble was failing. They were poking holes within it, and like he'd said, he was one mind against three. Hell, maybe— maybe it wouldn't have worked in the first place. It would have only left them one opening to exploit and potentially take down one of the heavy hitters, but none of it had been guaranteed.

They were going to have to use the song.

Run away—

"If I split off, she'll send one of her Pokemon to hunt me down," she sighed. The strength went out of her legs, and they wobbled again until she leaned against a tree. The beat of the drum no longer made her uncomfortable. She felt like she could stare at one of the small ponds now and no longer feel the urge to touch or drink it. "And I won't let you die alone here like some coward, buying what, an extra minute without Hydreigon here, since I'd have to fly away? We don't have time to argue. Tell him."

Slaking's fur and skin were soaked in golden blood and covered in open, festering wounds and bruises, yet he advanced toward Golurk anyway while he crawled away with his remaining two feet. Cecilia calmly told Toxicroak to buy her time and give up on Tangrowth, which she did. Despite his size, Slaking was as fast, if not faster than her, so she could barely get in a good hit when she got closer to him, but the goal was to delay. So she played dirty. She sprayed the normal type's ankles with poison that tore away the skin and sinew, and she used the pain as an opening to use Low Kick. The hit barely even made Slaking stumble, but at least it did stumble before it could retaliate. The place Toxicroak had just been was crushed by his huge palm, leaving a massive imprint that would have crushed every single one of her bones.

He'd tried to squash her like a bug, but that let Talonflame slice across his back with a Steel Wing that Delcatty healed, yet slower. She could see it clearly now. The sagging breaths, the tiredness in her voice every time she sang, yet Cecilia knew they could not outlast her. The fight had barely lasted six minutes, if even that, but they'd thrown so much at each other that it was as if it had been thirty.

There was a reason she hadn't directed her Pokemon to help Golurk, however. This entire fight, she'd been standing on the edge of a skyscraper, a foot suspended in the air. The entire battle had hung upon the thinnest of margins, with each Pokemon doing their part to hold their betters at bay. Now free from having to handle two Pokemon, Tangrowth came to Skuntank's aid and began turning the tide against Hydreigon, using the same ledges of vines he had used to let the poison type reach the skies above. Unable to close his teeth anymore, Zolst was left with his heads as bludgeons, aided by the power of Dragon Rush, yet despite his blows finally putting a dent in Skuntank thanks to Delcatty focusing all of its efforts on Slaking, the dragon could only go tit for tat with his enemy, even in the air. Its claws could tear through scales and its poison broke his focus each time Skuntank drew nearby, melting through more of his skin. Instead of landing back on the ground, Skuntank used the trees and Tangrowth's vines to stay in the air while the grass type dueled Scizor on the ground, slow and still limping.

It took some convincing, mostly by saying you might live, Slowking finally said. But he's ready.

Lehmhart was looking at her now. His face had turned to the side as he lay his back against a tree and the rune on his chest, hands and shoulders flickered on and off, along with his eyes. He was utterly unmoving, like he wasn't even alive. A still under the golden glow emanating from Arceus' throne, his legs half buried in silver sands. His massive body, made of stone and clay, seemed almost melded with the rough bark, creating an eerie tableau against the backdrop of the forest.

It was like the many paintings she'd seen in her childhood. Too depressing to be painted by Burgh, but it'd fit well in one of Castelia's art exhibits.

A smaller, better contained shield materialized around her, thick and multi-layered. Slowking had to forgo his previous barrier to make it work, but it had basically been entirely dissolved anyway. All of her training with Lehmhart had been for this moment, for this instant. His obsession with song was the only reason they'd even managed to get to learning this move these past few months.

The origins of Perish Song could be traced back to old Ecruteak in Johto. It was one of their clans— the one who now presided over the entire city— who had discovered that spirits could be directed to doom someone to their deaths through song, and due to the threat of mutually assured destruction and the mass deaths of any conquerers, they had been the last city conquered by a unified Johto League. Today, knowledge about the move was closely guarded by Ecruteak, though there had been many replicas made throughout the world, none as potent as theirs.

Hers was one of the same. A copy that could be circumvented or stopped, however, that was if an equally powerful ghost was here to counter it for people unable to retreat into the safety of a Pokeball, where they would have to stay for hours before it was safe to be let out again.

Jupiter had no ghosts to pull from.

A haunting melody began to emanate from Golurk's form, echoing through the stillness of the forest like a mournful lament. Her perception of it was muffled, but the fact that she could still hear it was… Cecilia's throat tightened, and she licked the blood off her lips. the fighting stopped as soon as the first note hit. For Cece's team, it was because none of them other than Golurk and Slowking had known the Perish Song was coming, and for Jupiter's it probably because they couldn't believe what they were hearing. As soon as the sweet whisper of Lehmhart's song made it to a living being's ears, they would know, at that moment, that they were doomed.

The monster's eyes were wide, as was her mouth, but Cecilia found no pleasure in finally extracting a strong reaction from her. Not when she was throwing it all away. Cece's eyes watered, though she chased away thoughts of Grace, dreams and her friends.

"Get that Golurk!" Jupiter screamed with a muffled voice.

Some of them listened.

Skuntank, for one, immediately rushed toward the golem's hunched form, but Scizor used the last of his stamina to throw his entire weight into the poison type's side. Unable to walk, he'd had to beat his wings so quickly that he caught on fire and the metal that was his exoskeleton melded together into a horrifying mess. Still, the steel type fired off a Flash Cannon directly into the side of Skuntank's face, but the force from the concentrated light didn't stop it until Scizor aimed for a leg instead. Tangrowth was another one who helped her, but Talonflame had suddenly regained access to her fire and had engulfed the grass type in a tornado of scorching blue flames, keeping it trapped and burning any vines before they could even reach Lehmhart. Instead of healing, Delcatty finally moved, but it was engaged by Toxicroak before it could even get halfway, and the normal type was no fighter. Toxicroak dominated her from the moment their bout began, even when exhausted, stabbing and poisoning her with every jab of her fists while she easily dodged the meager strikes of its tail and head.

As the melancholic melody washed over her, Cecilia felt a chill run down her spine, and she could see purple lights, furious and raging, desperate to get through Slowking's thick barrier. They gave her wordless screams and those that did make it through accompanied by the sound entered her body.

That was when the pain began. As if her body's viscera were being squeezed with an iron grip with every single heartbeat. She moaned in agony, and her head bumped into the soft earth as she fell over with her first Pokeball in hand. Slowking and her team were the same, but they held strong. Pokemon were better with pain than humans were. Hydreigon was the first one she recalled. The dragon had been about to attack Golurk out of fury for even daring to use this move when she was still in the vicinity to hear, and it was not like she'd need him any longer. Slaking, Stantler and Girafarig were no longer fighting. The psychic had recalled both itself and Stantler into their Pokeballs and Slaking was currently threatening Jupiter with a menacing look as he loomed over the Commander, who had fallen back against the ground.

They were throwing it under the bus. The bond wasn't there, it never had been in the first place. It was all so transactional.

They had around… a minute left for the end of the song. Then it would be three minutes to their deaths.

It was not just physical agony that Cecilia endured. No, the pain reached deeper, burrowing into the very core of her being. It was a soul-rending torment, an anguish so profound that it felt as though her very essence was being torn asunder, yet Champion by happenstance she might have been, she was not Willpower for nothing. As soon as Toxicroak rid herself of Delcatty with a Brick Break to the neck, Cecilia recalled her before she could even turn around. Then, Scizor when she feared he would die to Skuntank, who could barely even move any longer, and finally, Talonflame when Tangrowth's vines had all been burned and all that remained was the grass type's dark body.

Cecilia quickly spoke, ignoring the fire in her lungs. The colors from the world were fading. "Is it…"

She gagged and— the vomit surged upwards, hitting the inside of her mask with a grotesque splatter. The sound was muffled, a distressing squelch as the expelled mess smeared against the clear visor, obscuring her vision with a vile, viscous film. The smell was mute and fainted, yet it still had her nearly throw off the mask by reflex.

"Is it… ready?" she slowly spoke, clearer this time.

Slowking looked at her, his eyes wet. Affirmative.

"I'll see you later," she said.

I… I'll hold you to that.

The psychic disappeared into his Pokeball.

Yet his barrier remained. Just like they'd practiced and done against Crasher Wake.

Jupiter was also lying on the ground, paler than it…

Paler than she already was. She coughed a mouthful of blood onto the silver dirt, yet what used to be golden to Cecilia's eyes was now a monochrome gray. The light out of the Commander's eyes, as dull as it had been, was fading, as were her irises, and Slaking was nowhere to be seen. With all of her remaining strength, Cecilia pushed herself back into a sitting position and allowed Lehmhart to finish his song. If she could not die standing, then she would do so sitting.

She still heard it in her head when he was done. The spirits clawing at Slowking's barrier disappeared, and it slowly dissolved. She did not recall Lehmhart. Not just because he was immune to his music, but because she did not want to die alone.

"I can't fucking believe it," Jupiter forced out through clenched teeth. "I can't fucking— I can't— that you'd throw your own life away to get me."

Cecilia would have laughed ten minutes ago. "Well," she said. "It's not the first time I've flirted with death."

And that was not a good thing. She hugged her knees, which hurt when squeezing against her ribs, and pictured Grace despite her best efforts. I'm sorry, my love. There was no other way. Even if Jupiter hadn't blocked the way to the next layer, Cecilia wasn't sure she'd been in a state of mind sound enough to attempt to run away, but as she'd told Slowking, Jupiter would have just caught up if she rode on Hydreigon's back and Lehmhart took too long to enter his flying mode for it to work.

"I was so close," Jupiter bitterly said. "So fucking close. I had front-row seats to—"

"Aren't you going to recall your Pokemon?"

They were all too tired or broken to move, yet save for Delcatty, they were still conscious.

"No. They should have helped me convince Slaking that he should have fought for a while longer—" She gripped her uniform where her heart was and coughed up some more blood. It slid down the side of her mouth and onto the dirt. "Fuck… this is really happening, isn't it? I can't see colors… I can't smell or feel anything."

"Yes. Are you scared?"

"Scared? This is like… that one time I decided to become a criminal and I couldn't see The Holy Knight III in theaters except this time I can't even pirate it on a shitty screen. I'm having serious FOMO over here, damn it all."

Cecilia blinked, though it was more out of habit than a need to. "You're treating this like a movie," she realized.

"I wanted to see if I could make Arceus feel something. Anything." she said, each word slow and deliberate. "If he intervenes, it means that he cares. If he doesn't, well, who knows? I wanted to study it."

"You disgust me."

Jupiter closed her eyes. "I like you, though. You've got guts."

"You're not—" she bit down on her tongue to fight through whatever was ransacking her body, "—a serious person. You're just not. You're a bad caricature. Even Mars is more human than you are."

That.

That had her frown and open her suddenly bleary white eyes one last time, and yet.

And yet she stayed silent.

The remaining minute and a half was passed in silence, over the course of which, Jupiter writhed and convulsed in pain until she stopped moving entirely. Cecilia was taken by similar pain, and she could feel her heartbeat weakening with each pulse. She could see Lehmhart's finger from his disconnected arm subtly moving.

"At least…" Jupiter croaked. "There'll be no more Monday mornings."

A few seconds later, Cecilia's heart stopped beating. Her eyes closed, and she died.


























Thump.





















Thump. Thump.






Thump.
















Thump. Thump. Thump.












Heart. Its steady rhythm had slowed, but it refused to yield to death. She found herself aware of the contraction and relaxation of the heart muscle and the blood struggling to reach her extremities. The sensing of each closing and opening valve.







Lungs. Struggling to fill with air, their delicate tissues burned with the strain of each labored breath, yet as they pushed against her broken ribs, she could feel each individual sac and bronchial tube fill with oxygen, and with her exhale came their emptying of waste and carbon dioxide.







Liver. The quiet industry of cells she did not know the name of churned, though at a lethargic pace. The metabolization of nutrients, the neutralization of toxins, and the elimination of waste. Then there was the sensation of storage, as her liver dutifully hoarded essential nutrients for future use.







Nerves. The delicate branches of small tendrils transmitting signals from her brain to every corner of her body and back again. She could almost feel the synapses sparking to life, like tiny fireworks igniting within her nervous system, yet a lot of these were numb and fried.







So many more. She was aware. Aware of how fragile she truly was, yet she was barely clinging onto life and felt too weak to even get one of her Pokemon out. Lehmhart tried to crawl toward her with his two legs, but he was clumsy and slow. Slowking's barrier had worked— barely, and it looked like Lehmhart had done something to save her, too, yet she feared this would leave her…

Twisted.

There was something else.

Something she'd lost due to her death, despite only having been gone for a few moments.

She could not see it, not exactly, but she could feel its weight. The vast majority of her Shard, slowly dissolving next to where her head was lying. The chunk had slipped out of her mind while she'd been dead, and she could no longer get it back. It was leaving her grasp like sand slipping through her fingers. Had Chase been nearby, she was certain he would have been able to claim it for himself.

Was this it, then?

Shard no longer, or maybe barely qualifying as one? When she tried to draw onto the well that was the power afforded by Azelf, she found it truly vacant. It would never be replenished again.

Her face might have been caked with blood and vomit, and she might have been something barely even human any longer, but the girl laughed, because for the first time in half a year, she did not only feel like she had contained herself,

She felt free once more.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Zeta
 
Last edited:
Chapter 316 - Ascend, Children of Coronet V
CHAPTER 316 - ASCEND, CHILDREN OF CORONET V

Drip. Drip. Drip.

When she focused on something other than her own head, Mira could hear the sounds of the fifth layer resonating in the cavernous maw below that seemed to swallow everything, even sound. She hadn't ever been interested in physics, geology, et cetera, but Coronet gave her the damn creeps, which was better than the anxiety she'd thrown to another Mira deep into the recesses of her mind. Not only was she convinced she was behind where she was supposed to be and she feared that she'd be too late to arrive to the summit, but Chase and Denzel…

It looked really, really bad. Chase might not make it through this—

"Fuck. Off," she groaned, waving her good hand in front of her face as if she was chasing a Cutiefly away.

Alakazam stared at her with worry, but she quickly added, "Not you, uh, just myself."

The psychic shook his head, but knew that today wasn't the time to scold her about her health. What Mira had had to learn the hard way lately was that if you shirked off the majority of your negative feelings into your split personalities was that they'd get loud about it. She'd tried merging them together and splitting them off again in an attempt to remove their memories, but that hadn't worked, either.

You should know, anxious Mira said, that with power comes cost. Isn't that what Grace would say? I've found that to be rather accurate with us.

Maybe you deserve it,
pained Mira chimed in. The hand was tough enough, but now I'm a pair of legs—

"We have to get to the summit faster, and we won't make it in time if I have to take breaks," Mira hissed. She desperately wanted to grab all of them and throw them over the damn cliffs. She reassured Alakazam again, wondering if they'd grow more annoying the more personality they were given.

Mira hadn't gone out of the mountain when carrying Chase and Denzel out due to their wounds, since she'd been to terrified of wasting time due to it being all strange and quicker in Coronet than the outside. In fact, she hadn't even gotten close to the exit. Instead, she'd let Pauline, Emilia and a few League Trainers escort them out while she'd retraced her steps to get back to the third layer. She found that climbing Coronet again up to the point she'd been at had been like swimming with the current— quick, easy and without much protest from forces outside of her control. The fourth and the current one had been much slower, especially due to the cold, which was now thankfully gone. Porygon 2 had been useful to summon fire, but it was Alakazam and Gardevoir who had pulled their weight.

You tortured me, cold Mira hissed. There was a constant shiver in her voice, even if Regice's influence was gone. Bitch.

This time, she responded in her head. Well, we all have to do our part, don't we? And you're fine, now.

What's your part?
pained Mira asked. She could almost imagine the piercing glare down the back of her head. Complaining despite being in charge?

"Planning and taking back bits of your pain," she mentally jabbed a finger in her chest, "when you ask."

Damn it.

That had been out loud again.

That's just being a normal human being. You should try it, once in a while, background processing Mira chimed in, more cheerful than the others by a mile. She was usually in charge of small talk when the group— when Mira had to think and talk about something else.

Yeah, well, I guess I forgot, Mira internally sighed.

Luckily for her, they all mostly quieted down after this, allowing her some peace and quiet once more. Denzel… while Denzel was in a terrible state and would no doubt need to stay in the hospital for Arceus knew how long, Chase had been perforated by three high-speed rocks that essentially acted as bullets, one at his lower back and two on his right leg. Images of them traveling to Sunyshore and chatting around a fire flashed in her mind, and she chased away the need to purge the sadness by giving it to someone else. She found herself staring at the lidar to check up on where she should be going to distract herself. Admittedly, this floor was the worst for this device due to the endless chasms around every island suspended in mid-air. She peered into the dim glow of the lidar screen, her eyes tracing the intricate web of digital contours that mapped the cavern around her.

With a slight pinch and zoom gesture on the screen, she expanded a particularly dense cluster of data points, situating herself around a mile away from an opening in some kind of wall— the lidar's maximum range, as it was. She was lucky to be a Shard, or she doubted Coronet would have even allowed her to even get that close to what she assumed was the path to the next layer. Her legs sped up below her without her command, and she felt anxiety about the state of her uncle. A promise was a promise, but it'd be best if she was there when they first came upon him. There could be accidents in battle, and all the Miras gave her a collective nod.

That was easier than the last one, background processing Mira said with a bit of pep.

Don't jinx it. And stop sounding so damn happy, cold Mira chastised.

Legendaries, her head felt so crowded, but for better or worse, she was stuck with these people.

Stuck with herself.



Peramonkoro lays in her bed, unable to move. Not even her head can be turned, and so she stares right at the lavish ceiling. Through her bed canopy, she looks at it and her lip quirks upward. Painters, summoned from the farthest reaches of her empire, had adorned the plaster with designs of her conquest of Hisui and the northern shores of Johto.

Yet her time has come to an end, and she knows it was not through natural means.

There is a faint scent of a lavender candle emanating from her bedside table, as is custom to put when someone is on their deathbed. Her two Pokemon lament at her side, Garchomp and Goodra. They aren't ready to see her go, even at the age of sixty. Goodra can barely even stare at her, often retreating parts of her body into her enormous shell. They know something is wrong, yet she has instructed them to safeguard the Empire after her passing instead of lashing out. Her generals stand around her, having turned her bedroom into a den of Ekans, and she knows the one who poisoned her is present. She hopes— truly hopes that the Empire stays together and passes onto her son, but she knows Attuy is a weak man who cannot lead.

It is her fault. Through her paranoia, she did not teach him to lead out of fear of a coup, and yet here she was anyway.

"Empress," a general speaks. "It appears the prince has run off and escaped the capital. He cannot be found."

Her eye twitches. Did these bastards have him killed? Had whatever poison not taken away her
voice, she would have been able to remedy this!

"Prince Kuttuy can therefore no longer ascend to the throne. So we ask," she says, spear against the ground, "that you designate a new heir among everyone in this room."

Pera internally laughs.

They did not want someone to succeed her.

They knew no answer would come, and so they would carve the Empire apart for themselves.

"Empress?" the general asked again.

She can only muster a long, hoarse breath. Chatter begins around her bed, yet she knows it's all make-believe. She cannot even communicate with her Pokemon any longer to tell them to rip these people to shreds.

This was how it ended, then. Her wish to create an Empire that would last onto eternity had been lost to the vultures.

Her eyes close, and she pictures Eme and Atreus.

The only people she had ever truly loved, her son included.

One, she had had killed. The other was nowhere to be found.

Empress Peramonkoro, first and last of her dynasty, dies on that bed.


Chase stirred from the depths of unconsciousness, and instantly felt like something was wrong, faster even than the pain shooting down every inch of his body. The sterile scent of antiseptic assaulted his senses, mingling with the distant hum of machinery. Blinking against the harsh glare of overhead lights, he found himself enveloped in a sterile cocoon of white, surrounded by the hurried shuffling of medical professionals clad in scrubs. Instantly, he wanted to get out of here, but he couldn't.

He couldn't move.

Something's wrong with Cece. That dream, if you could even call it that, meant something. Chase could feel it in his bones.

His mind groggily pieced together the fragments of memory as the faint voices of doctors reached his ears. The fight with that bitch Mars— the burning pain in his back that still remained and subsumed everything else, and the fact that the world was still in fucking danger. He tried to talk, but he could only slur his words. Had he been drugged? The doctors buzzed around him like concerned Combee, their voices a distant murmur as they exchanged urgent instructions and assessments. Their faces were a blur of concentration and concern, their eyes fixed on monitors displaying vital signs, their hands moving with practiced precision as they tended to his injuries.

Then, memories of Abomasnow hit him at full force. Shit, shit, shit! He so desperately wanted to talk to these fucking doctors, but instead, he saw them prick his leg with a needle he couldn't feel and he grew drowsy again.

Damn it all was his last thought as he fell asleep.



I could walk, now.

Maylene wouldn't let me, though, and neither would Honey, so I was still propped up on his back as I'd been for the last few hours. There were no more complaints from me, especially knowing that we'd just be slowed down if I was walking in this sand, or dirt, or whatever it was. The entire sixth layer was blanketed in a layer of silver, grainy particles that smelled a bit sweet when I'd grabbed some and put it next to my nose. It was familiar, yet so far away from anything I'd ever smelled in the first place that if it had to be compared with anything, I'd never find the words to describe it.

My gloves were golden under the light emanating from the sky— and it did look like the sky. Unlike the previous floor, you'd find no darkened, claustrophobic walls closing in and looming in the dark. The transition from that to this, to quite literally drowning in this golden gloom had been difficult on my eyes. Even through my mask, I had to squint in order for my eyes not to hurt. Honey's tough fur bristled against my thick, mountaineering coat with every step he buried in the sand, but I still found myself laying my head against his shoulder, not to sleep, but just to close my Arceus damned eyes. Even after I'd slept after being knocked out due to the cold, there was simply no way to ignore the exhaustion creeping up on me. It was both physical, but also mental.

I jolted awake at the beat of a drum above us, and caught a hint of a curled green tail slipping behind a tree high above the golden branches.

Maylene had freaked out the first time one of those had played, but we were both in agreement that they had us feel at peace, though hers had more of a nostalgic element to it while mine was fresh and new.

"...ace. Grace."

I blinked at turned to my companion. She was wearing a mask of her own now, and had a thin, long and metallic bottle of compressed oxygen strapped around her shoulder in-between her back and the backpack she still carried. The gauge read sixty-percent, so she still had well over half of it remaining. When we'd first gotten to this layer, Maylene had struggled to walk straight and had began to feel lightheaded, so we'd had no choice but to share since she was convinced that she had to see me through all of it, even if we'd agreed she would get back down at some point. She'd said how she was good at controlling her breathing, and now I believed we'd have enough to make it, though we might need to recall Honey on the next layer, given that even he was starting to struggle a little bit.

I bit down on an apology and inclined my head instead. My right ear… I'd say it was working half as well as it had before Exploud had screamed, and my left was just a lost cause. "Yeah?"

I motioned at Maylene to step to Honey's right so I could hear her better and buried the annoyance rising within me. This was even worse than when Sunshine had damaged my hearing, and at least it had slowly healed over time.

The Gym Leader took another one of her deep, slow breaths, and I knew she wouldn't take another for the next one to two minutes. "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh, sure, I guess. As okay as I can be." Honey patted me on the arm with his hand and I quietly thanked him. "Why?"

"Just making sure." I didn't miss how loudly she was speaking so I could hear, even as a naturally loud speaker. "It's important to… uh, check in once in a while, and I can't really see your face behind this," she made a circular motion around her head, "mask. I'm worried about you. We haven't taken a break since you collapsed—"

Another beat of a drum, high in the trees. I whispered to Honey to keep an eye above us and said that soon, Buddy would be able to take over his duties since the ghost didn't need to breathe. A single leaf fell on my shoulder, and it shivered when I grabbed it between two fingers. You could get lost in the intricacies of the leaf's structure, if you stared long enough.

I let go of the leaf. "I'm okay, Maylene. We just have to keep going; we've wasted enough time already."

While Maylene's face was hidden, I could still read her easily. Her fists clenched, her arms going flat at her sides, she looked away from me, and her walk got just a little… not quicker, but it had less of a flow to it. Like she was consciously putting one foot in front of the other instead of running on autopilot.

"You shouldn't call your recovery a waste of time," she bit back.

"That's not what I meant."

"I feel like— I feel like you think very little of yourself or your own life, and that scares me, I think. I mean, we almost died, and while I'm trying my best to keep it together you just don't care. And I know this isn't the first time it's happened to you," her next breath was a short, shaky thing, "but I think that without someone to take care of you, you'll self-destruct." Maylene looked slightly toward Electivire and sighed. "Sorry, Honey. I know first-hand how difficult it is to have these talks with a parent."

While the electric type's tails had tensed, he said nothing, not wanting to get in-between the argument. No, it wasn't an argument. I wasn't really fighting back, just letting her vent, since it seemed like she needed to and I had no idea how to response. An apology I didn't mean? A lie saying I'd do better in the future? A clap back saying that she was wrong? All of these would lead into an actual fight, so instead, I shrugged.

"It'll be better when we're out of here," I said, my shoulders falling. "These aren't really normal circumstances."

It was easy picturing her bitter smile, but a few seconds passed, and the tension left her. "I dunno," she spoke, far less aggressive than I thought she'd be. "Feels like this is just you, now, and like it'll be you even after. You can't just… come back from this and act normal again."

I clicked my tongue in frustration, though she didn't hear. "Why say this here? Why now?"

And what the hell could I even do about it? What was saying I'd never be normal again accomplish? I already knew that. I knew I wouldn't be able to look my parents in the eye after this when they'd asked what the hell had happened, or that I'd struggle to even care about things as small as badges and tournaments and battling.

I already knew.

"'Cause… you're my friend and I care about you?" She kicked some of the glimmering sand forward, and a decent amount clung to her boot. "And I wanna help you through it, if you need it. Like, you know, staying in touch even when all of this is done, because it's gonna be hard for you. And your friends too, I guess."

The if part of that statement— if we made it and the world was saved— was already implied.

The frustration bubbling in my chest, the cornered feeling that had been closing in on me flatlined and disappeared, and I just stared straight ahead. "I'll take that. Thanks."

Maylene's steps returned to normal. "Cool," she said after a short pause. "Sorry if I was too forward or something, I just don't want you to—" her head whirled to the right. "Do you hear that?"

"No," I said.

She facepalmed, but stopped short of striking her forehead. Knowing her, she'd break it on accident or something. "Shit, of course you don't. It's like… music?"

"Music? Like the drums?" My thumb pointed upward at the leaves. "Or I guess drums is the closest they come to. Or a gong."

"No, this is more intricate. It's like, a long, long tone. Almost like something's crying."

Honey nodded, saying that he was also hearing something but hadn't wanted to interrupt our conversation, thinking that it might have been part of the environment.

"Can you lead?" I asked neither in particular.

Honey nodded, beckoning Maylene to come closer, and she pulled her up on his other shoulder, as gentle as always. He'd struggle to run too fast for long because of the thin air (his lungs were the most similar to a human's in my team and not at all adapted to life this high up), but a few minutes, he could handle. After a while running around in the endless, golden forest, I started to hear the tune Maylene had talked about. A low tone that sounded like strings I recognized very well.

My heart sank.

"Lehmy," I gasped.

Every time I'd been with Lehmhart, he would play music or talk my ear off about it, so recognizing his was a very easy task. Now, I was no Cece, so if I didn't cheat with my empathy, I wasn't great at recognizing which tone meant exactly what, but it was easy to tell that this was a distress signal of some sort. Swallowing, I begged Honey to speed up. Finding them was taking far longer than I thought. Sound here tended to travel far and it had probably seemed closer than it actually was. Still, it got closer and closer until a familiar, endless and hungering howl joined his song.

The knot in my stomach twisted tighter as soon as I saw him. There were no signs of battle here save for a few disturbances in the sand, but he was more hurt than I'd ever seen him. One of his arms, I found lying against a tree, but there were countless parts of his chest and legs just… caved in. Dented to the point that it looked as if someone had nearly punctured some parts of his chest. The lights on his shoulders were off, and only one of his eyes remained lit.

There was a trail in the sand— he'd dragged himself toward—

My eyes were wet as soon as I saw her. "No…"

I threw myself off Honey's back and ran the rest of the way.

No.

No, no, no, no, no! NO!

My foot caught on a tree root and I tripped right next to Cecilia, crawling in the sand until I touched her arm. There was a pungent smell of vomit and the metallic twinge of blood, but I gripped her shoulders anyway and shook her. I could see it clearly, now. The way her breathing mask was soaked with golden blood.

"Cece!" The shriek reverberated through my throat, ripping at its edges until it hurt. "Please—" a sob, then another, and more until I could barely see in front of me because of all the tears. My face collapsed onto her chest and I cried, "please don't leave me."

Don't take the light out of my life.


Who to retaliate against? Who to cut and bleed until there was nothing left of them? I bit down on my tongue and let out something akin to an enraged scream combined with words even I couldn't understand with the intent to threaten anything responsible for this, along with their entire lineage so none would follow after them.

Then—

A heartbeat.

I could barely feel it, thumping against my ear, and then her chest rising slowly but surely.

"Grace…?" She coughed and heaved for air. "Is that you?"

What?

Had she been sleeping? Or passed out?

My arms wrapped around her tightly until she groaned in pain, and I would have let go of her had she not been about to slump over. I wanted to get angry at her for not answering me when I'd called, or even shaken her at first, but instead, anxiety took hold of my vocal chords and I could only care for one thing.

"Wha— what happened?!" I begged.

Maylene spoke up— I'd nearly forgotten she was here. "Look." She pointed in the direction of the opening leading to the seventh and final layer with a trembling hand. "That's…"

Jupiter's body sat there, limp with half her face buried in the sand. She looked unwounded, though she was pale as a sheet of paper. There was a vineless Tangrowth, still standing upright but clearly dead— I made sure by flashing my empathy and nothing came up. A Skuntank and Delcatty had met the same fate, though the Delcatty didn't even seem to be wounded in any way.

"I beat her. For Justin," Cecilia croaked out. "It was—"

"Don't fucking talk!" I yelled. "You're bleeding and hurt. Is it your face? Of course it is— Are you hurt anywhere else?"

If I was taking off her breathing mask, I wanted to make sure it was correct. When she managed a weak nod, my hand hovered over her face. I was scared of seeing her hurt, which was stupid considering she already was. Maylene and Honey leaned next to me when they saw I couldn't do it. The Gym Leader grabbed one of our water flasks she'd attached to her hip while Electivire tore the mask away from her face.

Two, deep gashes had torn their way across her face. One was high up on her forehead, trailing down to above her eye, on her nose and the left corner of her lip. Dried blood had covered her right eye from the liquid constantly dripping over her face. The other cut was slightly shallower, going from the edge of her right temple and onto her right cheek. I restrained a cry, letting out a distressed groan instead, and Maylene poured the a portion of the water onto her face to wash away the blood and the vomit, after which Honey placed the mask back on to allow Cecilia to take another breath. This cycle continued four times until her face was as clean as could be and she wiped the dried bits away with a cloth and stopped the bleeding with a clean gauze. Even with the golden light, it was as if Cece's skin color had lost a bit of its usual vigor.

Maylene nearly jumped out of her skin when Cecilia opened her eyes and gave us a slow, lethargic blink.

Her irises were gone.

Just gone. Part of me considered it a trick of the light, but I knew this layer's glow didn't work that way, and I knew Cecilia wasn't blind either, given that she would occasionally turn her head Jupiter's way, as if to make sure she was truly dead and wouldn't come back to haunt her. Sometimes she'd look at Lehmhart too with a deep sadness etched onto her scarred visage.

"Can you— recall Lehmhart?" she forced out, her voice so quiet I nearly missed it.

I hurriedly nodded and grabbed the ghost type's Pokeball. I struggled to tell which one it was due to the lighting here, but I knew Cecilia wore her Pokeballs in order of which Pokemon she'd caught. The giant disappeared into his ball, and I managed to snag his arm as well. Knowing he was a construct, I had an inkling any limb issues would take longer to heal if they were lost. I'd find the other arm later. For now, Maylene handed me along gauze to press on Cecilia's face to wrap around her wounds after she'd dried her face, and I obliged, the panic from the thought of losing her now replaced by a resolve to see her through this no matter what had happened. Head wounds were difficult to bandage, it turned out, and it was awkward to avoid blocking her eyes.

But we managed, even if it was slower than we'd liked. When we were finished, it ended up wrapping around her chin and the back of her head, but vision through her eyes was unobstructued. I helped her stand upright and gave her some of my own water so she could quench her thirst, and while she winced at every motion of her face muscles and her voice was still harrowingly weak, which made it difficult to hear due to the damage to my ears, she was slightly better than she'd just been.

This was, however, just a stop-gap measure. She'd need actual medical attention sooner rather than later. Those would scar, and badly, and I had no idea what the hell was wrong with her eyes.

My hands gripped the sides of her shoulders. "Can you lean your back against a tree without my help?" I asked. Instead of an answer, I was met with a weak hug that had me melting into her arms. My fingers dug into her back. She was real. She was real, she was alive, and she was with me.

She sniffled, which came out as a distorted hiss due to her breathing mask. "I was so terrified I'd never see you again. I was thinking of you when I fell unconscious." Her tone was slow and purposeful, yet she tripped over her words and struggled to speak due to the pain. "Legends above, I'm— I'm so relieved."

"I'm here," I gently said. And so was she. "You don't need to push yourself. Rest for now."

"So… what now?" Maylene said. She was slightly shaken over having seen another dead body, but nowhere near what she'd felt before.

Part of me considered telling her to take Cecilia back with her.

That was, of course, a stupid idea. First of all, neither would agree with this, even if Cecilia was too weak to even walk, and after that conversation we'd had, Maylene would vehemently disagree.

"Before we decide anything, I need to tell you something," Cecilia said. She looked at me, her irisless eyes shining golden through her mask. "I'm barely a shard."

Maylene spoke up, "The half thing? I read that in your file—"

"No. Let me finish—" I nearly flinched at the aggressiveness in her tone; a heavy contrast with the quiet, nearly dead voice she'd been making beforehand. Cecilia stopped herself and took a deep breath in-between a 'sorry' from Maylene. "Jupiter… was strong. Stronger than I thought I'd be able to handle." A series of sickly coughs followed, and she kept going. "I had to take drastic measures. My own variant of Perish Song."

I froze. "...what?"

"I had to use it, and it killed me."

I clenched my teeth. "Are you fucking— are you fucking kidding me?!" I hissed, desperately wanting to shake. The loss of tone in her skin, her eyes, it was all because… "You killed yourself? Couldn't you have found another way?! Or ran—"

"Do not," she growled, "lecture me about risks."

We were silent for a few seconds. Rarely had she ever spoken to me this way, and even if she'd almost died, it hurt, especially knowing I had a right to be angry.

"I handled the battle wrong," she agreed, straightening her back against the tree with a pained moan. "I was too obsessed with revenge, too tunnel visioned on our oath, and by the time I realized, my only path was this."

Maylene tried, "There must have been another way—"

"Yet, you weren't there," she bit back with more venom than I'd ever heard out of her. "So how would you know?"

"Don't," I said. "She's worried for you."

Cecilia scoffed. "I barely know her—" she slid down against the bark slightly and her eyes narrowed. "Now isn't the time for this. I'm barely a shard any longer, so I don't know if I'll be enough, even with Chase."

I spared an apologetic glance at Maylene as my shoulders slumped. "You haven't seen him? I was hoping…"

"So you haven't, either?"

"No, I've just been with Maylene from the second layer," I quickly explained. "It was pretty smooth sailing until the last one. I killed Saturn there."

Cece slowly nodded. "I see. Were you hurt?"

"No— well, his Exploud gave me permanent hearing damage, but nothing serious."

Maylene mumbled something I didn't catch.

"Yes, she's correct, that is serious," Cecilia said.

When I asked her if she'd been with anyone on the way there, she answered Maeve, who she'd asked to run while she held Jupiter back because all of her Pokemon but Starmie were incapable of fighting, and while I wanted to tell her she could have kept Starmie and maybe not died and came back to life through Lehmy with means I still didn't understand, she spoke of it before I could chastise her about it, apologizing again for her being so hung up on killing she hadn't seen the obvious.

"There was also another girl. She…" my girlfriend trailed off. "She was one of Mars' grunts and has been through much."

Cecilia told us about Clara. About how Mars had called her Grace Pastel the fourth and how she'd been given scars to mirror mine. About how she seemed to despise me with every ounce of her being. Guilt ate at me, sending goosebumps through my arms and back. There had been four of these girls. Fucking four. Three had died before Clara, and it was all because of me. All because Mars had grown to be obsessed with me from the moment she'd had me in that chair in Valley Windworks. All because she'd seen the similarities between us after that as I slowly, unconsciously turned into an awful version of myself, staring down the abyss until I'd righted the ship.

My hand squeezed around my wrist.

"Don't blame yourself."

"It's not your fault."

Both girls stared at each other, yet it was Cecilia who continued. "Don't shoulder the blame for the wickedness of others," she said. "It's Mars, who Clara should be hating, not you. To her, you're just as much to blame as Mars is, but she's just a girl. I… regret the way I handled things with her. It's been eating at me since you woke me up— almost like a physical thing, deep in my heart."

My hand found hers, and I squeezed. Even without a glove, I knew I'd find little warmth here if the temperature of her face was anything to go by.

"Thanks." I looked at Maylene. "To you both. Um, I guess we should keep going, but Honey's going to have to carry Cece. I can walk now— for real," I quickly added before Maylene could say something. "Plus, I need to stretch my legs."

The electric type gave a thumbs up and his signature smile.

"One quick thing I forgot to add," she said as Honey slowly hauled her up, this time carrying her in her arms. "I can't see color anymore and parts of my skin feel numb. Mostly extremities like my hands and feet."

Arceus. How many side effects was this thing going to have? I couldn't help but feel anxious that I was missing something. Lehmhart had obviously resurrected her, but the fact that she'd died in the first place meant that she'd ingested copious amounts of ghostly energy— more than any specialist would in their lifetimes through passively staying near their powerful ghost types.

Her snappy anger earlier came to mind as I rose back to my feet, however I knew that couldn't be it. Still, it was difficult to differentiate, sometimes. Maybe she was just that way due to just having died. We wouldn't be able to tell until we saw a League professional like Justin had seen after Solaceon.

Justin… I stared long and hard at Jupiter's corpse as we passed by to enter the final layer and allowed a slight smile to reach my lips.

It was at a great cost, and I would not call it worth it, but at least you were avenged.

"Let's go find Lehmhart's other arm," I said.



The seventh layer of Mount Coronet was a beautiful thing, but it was also the most unsettling to me for two main reasons. The endless field of golden grass reached up to my chest, yet it felt like a silky cover instead of prickly grass, and an enormous, golden sun shimmered high in the sky that was too bright to stare at just like the real thing. It was actually warm, here, unlike the cold I'd felt during all the previous layers. Hot enough to mistake this place like a constant, cloudless day late in the spring, meaning that I'd needed to take off my outer jacket. Sure, I was already as dirty as could be given the fact that we'd been inside a mountain for days, but I did not want to add a layer of sweat on top of that.

But the two reasons this place was unsettling for me was that it forced a strange sense of peace and belonging onto me, and that fucking sun moved erratically in the sky, too far away to potentially be sensed by my empathy. It flew without pattern, sometimes basking us in warmth that was scorching and other times keeping us relatively cold. On average, though, the temperature was like spring, as I had noted. To see such an enormous thing moving like it was alive and had a mind of its own was disconcerting, like when Melmetal had first revealed itself to be metal given life.

I glanced down at my Pokeballs, wondering how Mimi was doing.

Honey has retired in his Pokeball and had now been replaced by Buddy, yet he was not an appropriate shape to carry someone for a long period of time and was still too tired to change shape on a whim. That battle underground with Excadrill had taken a lot out of him, more than I'd thought.

So Maylene had ended up carrying Cecilia in front of her, one arm under her knees and the other under her neck. Cece wasn't very happy about it, but she couldn't exactly say anything. I could tell she was feeling like dead-weight already, though she was conflicted about it. One one hand, losing the majority of her shard meant that she'd be freed of her endless dilemma, but on the other, she'd come here to free Azelf from Galactic's clutches, and there couldn't have been a worse time for this to happen. All we could do now was hope Chase was close to the summit like we were and that he'd pull his weight soon enough. Hell, we had no idea where Mira even was, and if I'd managed to bring Maylene all the way up here, then there was a possibility that Denzel, Pauline and Emilia were coming, too.

Hell, where was Cynthia?

"So just in case we run into Mars, Cyrus or Charon, what Pokemon do you have left?" Maylene asked. She was talking to Cecilia in particular, but it'd be a good idea to take the temperature, so to speak, and see what our combined forces would look like.

I looked at Jellicent, who hastily bobbed up and down under the golden glow of the burning sun. "Buddy, Honey— though that'll have to wait until we get to Spear Pillar due to the oxygen issue." When the League had briefed us, they'd explained how no breathing apparatus would be necessary close to Arceus' throne. "Sweetheart… and I guess Angel, if we really, really need backup."

Getting him out of stasis, out of his Pokeball, would mean awful things for the prospects of regenerating his eye, though, so hopefully it wouldn't be needed.

"Talonflame is almost unharmed. Zolst can still fight, but he'll be furious at me and might not listen very well. Toxicroak can battle, too," Cecilia slowly said. It any other context, it would have been funny to see her speak in such a serious tone while she was being carried like I had been. "But I see that there are no psychics available."

"Cass got hit and has been screwed ever since. Probably will be until they get to a Center," I said.

Cecilia sighed. "Slowking… I believe he's lost too much blood. Skuntank tore through him with Night Slash."

I'd seen it. She had released him to let him know that she was alive, along with her entire team save for Lehmhart, but the moment had only lasted a few seconds at best. The psychic hadn't even been able to stand on his own two feet, so the prospect of him protecting us with barriers was gone. Hydreigon, meanwhile, had instantly wanted to lash out at her and so had been recalled instantly.

"I'll try my best to be of use," Maylene said.

"Through aura?" Cece curiously questioned, raising her head a smidge.

"She's got great reflexes!" I beamed. "And she's saved my life more than once. She's no psychic, but you shouldn't underestimate her capabilities dodging stuff."

Cecilia looked away, and Maylene quietly thanked me— or maybe it was my hearing playing tricks with me.

"Obviously that wouldn't be enough, but we've trained enough for our Pokemon to work together," I added. "Mars is powerful, but with our forces combined, maybe we can escape or buy enough time for reinforcements to arrive, or to free one of the Lake Guardians."

"I thought you'd want to kill her," Maylene said. "Like Saturn."

"The feeling has never been as strong as Saturn—"

"Grace tends to prioritize the people she loves over herself," Cecilia explained, her body shifting uncomfortably in Maylene's arms. "She's too selfless sometimes."

I didn't know what to say to that. "Well…"

"And she's always been like this," she kept going. "When I first met her, and I was still worrying over what my so called father," she spat, "was going to do to me, she still helped me more than any of my other friends despite the fact that we barely knew each other."

"Hmhm," Maylene half-heartedly agreed, grass britstling against her. "Uh, getting back on topic, that means we'd have an appropriate number of Pokemon to fight back, but we wouldn't be able to get through two fights."

"Especially when Mars is so strong," I agreed.

"It's all about where the others are," Cecilia hummed.

"Story-wise," I began, "it'd make sense for them to either already be there and us to barely make it to save them, or for the inverse to be true."

Cece's arms subtly moved. "Don't rely on those too much."

Maylene looked down at her. "It's gotten us up here this far without many hiccups."

"And I've gotten this far by—" she paused and cleared her throat, clearly wanting to avoid the subject. "There are different methods to climbing this place. I'm saying we shouldn't expect a miracle just because of a story."

"She's… right, I think," I said. "I'd rather not risk it and expect a miracle instead of working our asses off to pull off a win."

A win here didn't necessarily mean a victory as much as it meant getting out of a fight with Mars or Cyrus alive.

In the distance, a massive Snorlax slumbered in the grass, bigger than I'd ever seen. Larger than Craig's or Barry's, and as tall as a small building. Her snores reverberated through the layer, but it wasn't only her. A group of eight Staravia and a Staraptor were sitting on her stomach, content to just look at us pass by. I dipped my head in respect, and the Staraptor did the same. He recognized me as Shard, and would allow us to pass through. I'd noticed there were a lot more Pokemon here than on other layers. They had been more hesitant to flee despite the mountain's pleas, as if they answered to someone else. Usually, they were normal types wandering the plains. I'd seen a childless Kangaskhan make a wide berth around us, countless flying types flying in the air, keeping away from the sun, and many more.

"Well, it's not like I'm meant to be here, so I guess you two know better," Maylene agreed. "I figured we could keep relying on what got us this far."

"It was a team effort and I wouldn't be alive without you. Let's not get hung up on this stuff," I said. She sounded a little more defeated than usual, but it was probably the stress of the finality of the situation getting to her. "Charon's basically a non-factor. His Hypno's dead and the rest of his Pokemon aren't up to par. Mars is the issue, along with Cyrus." Thoughts of Clara filled my heart and I put a spring in my step. "So we plan for them as best as we can so we don't have to rely on things like Perish Song."

The held-back anger in my words was very clear. I wasn't going to let Cecilia off the hook for this any time soon.



As it turned out, even planning was an issue with these two.

Cecilia's wires were all crossed, and she easily found herself throwing verbal jabs at Maylene when the Gym Leader said something that, to Cecilia's credit, had been a middling or bad suggestion just because she was less experienced in these fights than we were. This was evidently awkward considering Maylene was carrying her in her arms. Not only that, but Cece was also quick to put herself down in regards to her sins and what she'd done.

"I wish I could have gone about this differently," she would say, or, "I regret the way I shouldered Lehmhart with the sole responsibility of bringing me back," or, "will Zolst ever forgive me for what I've done? For trying to leave him behind?" Then, she'd look at me and say the most heartwrenching thing. "Will you ever forgive me?"

Partly, it detracted from the actual planning (which, to be honest, hadn't gone very well, either, given the fact that all we'd have to fight Mars or Cyrus with Pokemon who ranged from tired to exhausted), but I felt like if I hadn't been there to intervene, these thoughts would have utterly consumed her very being, and the horrible pain in her face didn't help.

So I kept closer to her, making sure to give her some reassuring words while Jellicent kept watch of our surroundings. For all these final two layers had been grand, they were so simple in their design, as if they'd been a blueprint for what would come below, and then all over Earth. It'd make sense, considering Coronet was Arceus' throne and this could have been one of the first things on this planet ever made.

I gulped.

That had weight.

Yet my legs felt lighter and lighter the more we followed a Pidgeot flying high in the sky toward what felt like this floor's center. She'd caught our attention by screaming and had scared off a group of Bergmites away from us. What I'd come to understand from this layer was that everything was larger than their counterparts outside the mountain. Even Pidgeot was slightly larger than Pauline's Braviary, yet the flying type made no efforts to come and pick us up on her back.

"This is more boring than I thought it'd be," Maylene sighed as she stared at the open skies, or at least the illusion of the sky, gilded and complete with its own clouds. It was more convincing than the previous layer. "It's like there's no more resistance left and it's just ushering us on through, now."

"Better that than whatever was going on before," I shrugged. "Here, a theory for you about stories—"

"Another?" Maylene said, laughing.

Right. They'd heard a lot of my ramblings when I launched a bunch of ideas to take down Mars.

I allowed my hand to caress the smooth grass. "I just like talking about this stuff."

"No, I mean, it's kind of funny." She adjusted her grip on Cecilia's legs and apologized for moving her too quickly. "Might as well, though. Anything will help."

"Well, won't really help, but— now that we've taken out two Commanders, I think Coronet's eyes have been opened a little." I grabbed a blade of golden grass and smelled it. Slightly sweet, but stronger than the last floor. "After dealing with Saturn, it started being neutral again, but now it's full-on helping us. I mean, it's like walking down a straight path, right? Feels easy."

Cecilia chimed in, even if she'd quieted down due to her pain. "We didn't have to solicit that Pidgeot, either." She'd known how we'd come up here largely by using wild Pokemon due to it coming up earlier in the conversation.

My fist struck my palm, though I was annoyed at the fact that I'd nearly missed her statement. "Right. So I was thinking… what if we could throw these off like Galactic?" I pointed at my face.

Our breathing masks.

Both instantly disagreed, of course, even Buddy, but it wouldn't be lethal if I was wrong right away.

"Cece, it keeps pressing up on your face and hurting you, I can tell," I worryingly said. "I'll try. At worse, I get lightheaded and my head'll spin, but you can help me if it goes wrong. We do it to eat already anyway."

"The air could be corrupted or something…"

It was already off before Maylene could finish her sentence.

I had almost forgotten the feel of the world's breath against my face. Real wind, not stale, cold and humid mountain air. I put my hood down and allowed my hair to flow freely, taking a deep breath. Being up here felt like being outside, wandering a garden in Eterna City, not like we were on the roof of the world. The constant pressure around my nose, mouth and forehead bled away and I blinked a few times when I realized this place was a lot brighter than I'd given it credit for, covering my eyes with a hand.

Warm air filled my lungs.

"See?" I smiled, running a hand through my greasy hair. "Nothing. Feels like you're down at Coronet's base on route 211."

Buddy was the first to speak, scolding me for taking such needless risks, but I just countered by saying he was just being a worry-wart.

"I'm— yeah, I'm gonna let you down," Maylene finally told Cece.

"I'll help," I quickly chimed in, running through the grass. Legends, this was so rejuvenating. Cecilia placed an arm around my shoulder and clung to me while I gently took off her mask. Bits of her gauze appeared slightly bloodied when I glanced up at her and two irisless eyes faced me. "We're gonna have to change those."

She nodded, her breathing sounding slightly raspy. There was just a hint of a gravelly whisper with each inhale and exhale. Maylene had followed suit, her short, pink hair now loose, and was already pulling out supplies from the bag. After calling out to Pidgeot to wait for us, the giant bird started circling high above with an impatient screech every minute or so.

"Also, regarding your… issue," I spoke to Cecilia. "Is it going to affect fights?"

Her nose flared, and her brows knitted together. "No. I'm not that far gone."

"I can check up on you if you want. With empathy. Not touch, but just see what makes you tick."

Mostly, I was worried that it was still taking time to settle in and that the worse was yet to come, especially given that her physical weakness had her speaking less than usual. It wasn't like her, to want to verbally jab and prod while being so mean and violent about it. It was a good thing Maylene had taken it on the chin. That girl was honestly a saint.

Her answer was slower to come than I'd expected. "I'd… I'm not ready for such a decision. I barely know how things will change after this, if there is one, but at least I'm self-aware to know I'm not acting right."

"That's okay."

Maylene brought over the first-aid kid, we replaced Cecilia's bandages with newer, tighter ones (which we got cussed at for), and we were on our way again.

The trek seemed endless, yet with the wind in my face, I found my footing easier now, and it grew purer and purer the closer we got to the enormous staircase looming in the distance. So crisp and pure it somehow tasted good. For a moment, I was just a girl strolling through the grass with her girlfriend and her friend, and I forgot myself— no, I shed the outer layers; all of that pressure built up peeled off of me like it was fucking magic.

It returned like a wispy fog clogging my brain when I placed the sole of my boot on the first set of stairs. Golden and transparent, the smoothest material I'd ever seen, whatever it was, and most importantly,

Most importantly, power reverberated with that step.

My mouth felt dry when I looked back at Maylene and Cece and I waved a goodbye to our guide Pidgeot.

Maylene jittered in place, hands tightening around Cece from anxiety. "Are you both ready?"

"Nowhere to go but up," I declared.

I took another step.

And another.

And another—

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Zeta
 
Last edited:
Chapter 317 - Spear Pillar
CHAPTER 317 - SPEAR PILLAR

This place was too beautiful for words.

We crossed an arch I recognized very well as I wiped the tears trailing down my cheeks. Boney white, with golden and green peppered throughout the structure. Mesprit's mindscape had had the same structure on their replica of Mount Coronet, but this one was… breathtaking. Brighter, larger, grander in all the ways that mattered, and the sense of nostalgia, of belonging that overtook me had me sobbing like a damn child as soon as I crossed it and set my eyes on Spear Pillar.

Spear Pillar had been carved into the plateau of Coronet out of strange, beige bricks that were covered in cracks that seemed to bleed beyond their edges, yet they felt smooth to walk on. It was surprising, how run-down this place looked. Countless pillars rose from the sides of the bricked path, but jagged crevices and fissures marred their surface. Some of them were broken down or even collapsed, yet everything felt like it was as it should have been. The sky was large. Exactly like it had felt within Mesprit's mind, like it stretched on and on and on. Its tone was a richer, deeper azure blue than what you'd usually see from the ground. The sun still hovered there, signaling how little time had passed in the real world, and of course, there was not a single cloud in sight. There was a thin, golden and white fog at the edges of Spear Pillar that calmly clung there, steering clear of the… path, if you could even call it that. Buddy seemed uncomfortable with this place. His eyes constantly twitched, were dimmer than usual, and he made himself smaller. Asking him why had him say that he felt the opposite of belonging, here. Like he shouldn't have been here.

When I turned to my two companions, I could see that they'd been transfixed by Spear Pillar as well. Cecilia had opted not to wipe away her tears and let them flow onto her bandaged face, but she'd been crying as well. I'd come here with the expectation that we would be attacked right away, but instead, this place seemed to stretch beyond the horizon, somehow. An endless path of broken bricks. Silently, we began to walk against the calm, warm winds sweeping across the plateau. I tried to come up with explanations as to why the Creator's throne would be so run down, even if it did not feel like it, yet my mind came up blank after a few seconds with every attempt, as if questioning the state of this place went beyond any common sense. Still, one had to wonder why such a mundane place was…

The thought was smothered before it could keep going.

Time passed. Nerve-wracking minute after nerve-wracking minute without any signs, whether that be Chase, Mira or the others, or of Team Galactic itself. Could we have been the first ones to make it, after every delay we'd encountered? If that was the case, then maybe the world had a chance. I couldn't shake the feeling a certain sound gave me if I focused for long enough. It was similar to the ringing in my ear, but something else, far off in the distance. While Jellicent seemed unsettled by this place, Electivire and Tyranitar were in awe, staring at every nook and cranny like it was gold. Cecilia's Talonflame dared not to fly off too far, and while she seemed disappointed in her trainer, she took in Spear Pillar's beauty as well, twisting and turning between each tower while Toxicroak had tried to grab a stone to keep, but to no avail.

"Grace," Maylene warned, her grip on Cecilia tightening. "Ahead of us, behind one of the pillars."

I squinted and scanned the surrounding towers of stone while Buddy finally found his gusto and threateningly rippled at his edges. Maylene couldn't exactly point properly, with Cece in her arms, so it took me a bit to see what she was talking about. Not that it mattered anyway, because the culprit shuffled from behind the pillar with a familiar limp and white coat draped over his Galactic uniform. With his usual scowl, Charon glared at us and adjusted his glasses to get a better look. The last time I'd seen this man, near Floaroma, he had terrified me. Today, he was just a bump in the road. Our Pokemon stood at attention, ready to strike. Toxicroak was the last to tense and anxiously bounced herself up and down. We weren't planning on killing him, not when he was so weak and Mira needed him alive, but he had better surrender and get the hell out of the way. His presence meant that Team Galactic had made it here first, which was terrible fucking news. The world was teetering on the edge of oblivion.

"Throw your Pokeballs on the ground—"

Cecilia interrupted me with a harsh, ghastly tone. "Surrender or die."

I blinked, but didn't act surprised so we could present a united front. That had better been a bluff.

Charon took a step backward, and for a moment I thought he'd run, but instead he looked behind the same pillar. "Mars," the Commander pressed, adjusting the tight collar around his neck. "Hurry up and stop them!"

The hair on my neck stood on end, and I nervously licked my lips. Her being here complicated things and meant we couldn't win the coming fight. It also meant that Cecilia would have to use an unruly Hydreigon and I would have to risk Angel's eye just for a hope at survival. The current plan was to test the waters by battling for a minute or two, and running away back to the seventh layer to wait for Chase and the others if the situation was untenable. I was hoping I'd be able to cooperate with Coronet to get what we wanted. Cecilia had called it twisting the mountain's arm, but I disagreed.

The person who emerged from behind the pillar wasn't the Mars I'd expected. What jumped at me was that she was missing her right arm. It had been cut clean off at the shoulder. The stump was covered in dry blood and was leaking small amounts of ghostly energy, but that wasn't it. Mars' entire demeanor had changed. She walked with small, restrained steps, her shoulders were hunched to make herself smaller, her eyes were darting all over the place with dried tears staining her cheeks, and most of all, she looked exhausted. Her Wigglytuff accompanied her, but…

Wigglytuff was hurt. Large swathes of his stomach had been burned— and having both a fire and an electric type, I recognized electrical burns. He had huge lacerations all over his body as well, and though there had been an expectation that since Mars' Pokemon were just projection, injuries like these were meaningless, the normal type actually looked tired. Mars released two more Pokemon— Clefable and Bellossom— and both looked to have been through a battle as well. Clefable was the most intact, but Bellossom was covered in bruises that could only have come from blunt hits; maybe punches.

Mesprit and Uxie were nowhere to be seen.

For a few seconds, there was only silence. Mars had been in a fight, and seeing as Coronet cooperated with Galactic because they'd tricked it using the Lake Guardians, I doubted a wild Pokemon was the culprit.

"Grace." Mars shuffled in place, hugging herself with her only arm. A shy, yet saddened smile took to her lips. "You promised me we would talk for a bit in Mesprit's mind when we met again…"

Damn. That lie had slipped my mind entirely with all of the events I'd been through ascending to the peak. At the time, I'd said it just so she would be taken off-guard if I attacked her suddenly, but I doubted that would work now that she had her Pokemon out. I'd figured that maybe I would have been able to trick her into being defenseless.

"Sure," I said, ignoring Maylene and Cecilia's heavy, surprised stares and my Pokemon's disapproving vocalizations. "I have a few questions, too. Then I'll be all yours."

Charon scoffed. "What are you doing, you—" he was taken by a sickly, wet cough that went on for a few moments as I raised my hands to appear as innocent as I could. "Attack them!" It was obvious to me now that Charon wanted us as far away from whatever was happening behind them as possible.

Mars' voice went cold. "Shut up."

He clicked his tongue and his hands went to his two remaining Pokeballs, yet he didn't release them. He must have known that he had no chance, and there was the possibility of Mars killing him outright if he angered her. She was in quite a volatile mood.

"Grace—"

I turned to Maylene and whispered, "This is important. Her Pokemon are hurt, meaning that she's fought someone to get here and we need to know who. It won't take long, I know what makes her tick."

"I don't like this," she said. "Cecilia, say something."

My girlfriend stayed silent, her eyes glancing at me, then back at Mars and her team. "There's this hatred inside of me," she whispered so low she was barely audible. "This desire to hurt. But even I can think clearly enough to know that talking to Mars… well, it'd be sensible if we could avoid a fight, but that's not her prerogative. Still, I'm intrigued, too."

"That's not what you were supposed to…" Maylene trailed off.

Taking a deep breath, I continued louder. "Mars! You and your Pokemon look hurt."

It was important to keep it open-ended and lead her where I wanted instead of pulling her there myself. As Cecilia had said and despite how unlikely this was, avoiding a fight here was the goal, not fraternizing with the enemy.

The redhead tilted her head, and Wigglytuff's cheeks puffed up beside her. "Interested?" There she was, or at least partly. There was a hint of taunting in her voice that gripped my very being and could squeeze out hatred. "What will you give me for it?"

Cecilia snarled in Maylene's arms. "I've changed my mind. Enough of this."

I held up a hand.

One couldn't—

I inhaled.

One couldn't just ignore such horror dangled in front of them, even if it was bait. I closed my eyes, and the next time I opened them, colors swirled around Mars. As I'd seen earlier, there was a base layer of sadness that I wouldn't expect from her, but climbing joy and pleasure from torturing me with the fate of my friends.

Spear Pillar's peaceful quiet turned eerie. Charon was content to let this play out, watching us with a wary look in his eyes. So long as he could buy time, he was probably okay with this.

"Who was it?" I asked, no, demanded. My throat felt so tight that getting the words out strained my neck. My feet rattled on the crackled beige stones so harshly my soles felt tense. "Who?!"

"She feeds off of your worry," Cecilia said in a whisper. "Respond with fear and she'll escalate in kind because it's all she knows. You know this. Control yourself." When I turned her way with a mix of confusion and apprehension, she added, "Always expect the worst, and you won't be saddled with disappointments and regrets."

Maylene shook her head. "I'm not sure that's—"

"It doesn't matter who it was," I lied to Mars. "You were in a battle with someone." My words were more of a declaration than a question. "Another trainer."

Mars deflated a bit. "Yes."

No subtle movements in her emotions. She was saying the truth.

"Checking for lies?" she wondered in a teasing tone. Like this was all a joke. Yet there was a lack of passion behind it. She was tired. "Ask me more. Ask me the question you really want to know, but say please at the end."

I closed my eyes, took a shaky breath and asked again. "Please tell me who it was."

"Chase Karlson and Denzel Williams fought me. They killed Snuggles. They killed Twinkles. They killed Dusky." Charon's eyes went wide next to her, and he started spewing insult after insult, calling her daft for revealing this until she scared him by making a brusque motion his way. "But," she said with a twisted smile. "I killed Chase, too. Star over here took care of him." She patted the Clefable on the back. "Mr. Wiggly took care of that Abomasnow. Boring Denzel was pretty badly injured, too. He might have died from his injuries."

I looked at her.

I looked…

At her.

She wasn't lying. Her statement was even more ironclad than the last.

The ringing in my ears overtook everything and grew so loud I could barely hear myself think.

"Would you have felt something if this was true?" I calmly asked Cecilia.

I didn't hear her answer over the ringing, but her lips read 'I don't know'. She was crying again— and it seemed that when she cried, now, her face and voice would stay unresponsive and she would just let the tears out.

Once, twice, thrice, how could one take loss again and again? How could one not run out of sorrow and not give way to hopelessness? My heart was so heavy. Like a piece of lead that had learned to expect the loss, weighing me down, yet it hurt the very same every single time. I wanted to scream. To claw at my chest until I had gouged myself of everything that made me human. My legs wobbled and Maylene's hand rested on my shoulder.

The ringing in my ears stopped as soon as she touched my skin.

"I'm— I'm sorry," Maylene said. "And I know this is harsh, but maybe Cecilia can still…"

"I will try my best to get Azelf back," she said, still crying. "Once one is freed, whatever process Cyrus is currently going through might be interrupted or slowed."

There was a beat of silence, and my Pokemon gathered around me. My fist clenched so harshly I could feel the outline of my nails through the gloves and the bandages on my hands.

"I just want you to understand," I said, my voice rising into a scream. "You took everything from me! I have never, ever hated someone as much as you!"

I wanted to say more. To dismantle her using words, push at her weaknesses. To tell her about how not only did Cyrus not love her— something he had learned to know and understand— he had been manipulating her and grooming her all along for his nefarious plans. That I would tear apart everything she loved, piece by piece just as she'd done to me and make. Her. Watch and listen. Bellossom's wails when Sweetheart stomped on her body until she was mush. Wigglytuff's guts spilling out of his stomach and soaked Spear Pillar in blood. Clefable, slowly swelling until her very body gave at the seams and Buddy smothered the life out of her.

But I was just…

So tired. So exhausted that I just wanted to lay down and sleep. My body hadn't felt this way since I'd just been brought to the Lakes after the bombs, and that seemed like a lifetime away, now.

"Hate and love are separated by a very, very, thin line," Mars answered back with a mad yell. Her only hand caressed the side of her face and her eyes seemed to glint in Spear Pillar's light. "And if you hate me," she said with tears welling up in her eyes, "it means I matter to you. That I matter to someone!"

The energy I needed for this battle wasn't there.

So I would just steal it.

Changing my own emotions was impossible, but I'd seen many times that I could get affected by the emotions of others during my travels alone. Less so now that I was used to my gift, but I'd learned that too many anxious people bunched up in one place would spread their anxiety to me in turn when I'd been near a traffic jam in Sandgem during rush hour. My finger twitched, and a smoky yellow bled off of Mars. Within a second, it hit me. Enough excitement to make my heart pump twice as fast, to make my breaths shallow and my fingers tremble. A smile crept up my lips and I shivered. Legends above, it felt so good. I would most likely incur a small emotional debt afterward, but the thrill coursing through me was very real and it allowed me to channel my rage toward the only individual who mattered.

Mars.

I inhaled. "Cecilia!"

Maylene flinched when she heard so much life in my voice. The battle began with a whimper with all of our exhausted Pokemon sizing themselves up, but Cece snapped a finger that reverberated across the plateau, and Talonflame was the first to go on the offensive. The air roared as fire burst from every inch in the air around her and began to orbit her form as she flew toward Mars. A thin barrier shimmered around the Commander, who pushed Charon out before he could join her in Clefable's protective shell, and thick, thorny roots spread out from below Bellossom's skirt. Seeing Charon so vulnerable, Talonflame ended the fiery tornado that had been building up around her. Instead, a row of feathers on her wings sharpened, glimmering under the sun's light, and flew toward Bellossom with tiny shockwaves— past the speed of sound. The grass type screeched when the first few penetrated past her skin, but a clump of roots came together to block the rest. Another— one without thorns, wrapped around Charon's neck and held him up in front of the grass type, forcing Talonflame to end her assault.

She knew. The older Commander desperately clawed at his neck, but Bellossom's hold only tightened until all he could get out of his mouth was choking and pained moans.

"Looks like you were right, Charon," Mars gleefully said. "Your niece did want to save you, and they care. How nice. Mr. Wiggly, Mimic!"

The air around Wigglytuff shimmered like an optical illusion in the desert, and the normal type summoned his very own Heat Wave. Cecilia calmly ordered Talonflame to fight it off like she hadn't been about to die, but Maylene dragged her behind Sweetheart's back, placed her on the ground and dragged me by the hand before I could even take three steps. The rock type barely reacted to the warmed air, and with Talonflame's help, the nascent Heat Wave didn't burn us beyond making us feel like we were in a desert, but the goal here was to keep us locked down behind her. Mars had the disadvantage of numbers here, and pinning down one of our Pokemon was a great boon for her.

"Overwhelm her!" I ordered.

While our team had been reeling from the heat and slowed by the wind, we couldn't play her game. We had to keep her reacting, not do the reacting ourselves. I saw Honey blur in a flash out of the corner of my eye, and Buddy propelled himself forward with a weakened Water Sport above us. Toxicroak was right below, taking the scraps of his water that made it down without evaporating to cure herself until the ghost himself saw what he was doing and redirected more of it to her. Sweetheart couldn't pull any stones from these sacred grounds, but she bellowed, shifted a foot, and shook the earth in Mars' direction. A dim, white glow overtook her when I whispered another, secret order to her. We were unable to peek and check what was happening, but I did hear the sounds of fighting, easily recognizing the sound of multiple Hydro Pumps and Thunderbolts or Thunders.

Ten, twenty, thirty seconds later, Wigglytuff finally gave up on the Heat Wave and I finally managed to glance at the fight. It had spread out some, with Wigglytuff being a few dozen feet away. Even when covered in burns, Toxicroak was relentless, constantly jabbing in his direction with her poisoned claws. Wigglytuff's body contorted and shrunk wherever she struck, and when the fighting type belched poison from her sack, he simply opened his mouth and inhaled. I warned Jellicent not to go inside of his mouth despite my desires, just in case glamour fucked with him and did some irreversible damage. Talonflame occasionally sent flaming feathers as support, but it was the other part of the fight, that had me worried.

Electivire was collapsed against the ground, and his body moved with each wave of Clefable's finger. Not only was approaching her tough, but the fairy type distorted every attack sent her way. Jellicent's Shadow Ball spaghettified into a thin line and dissolved as it spun around her, and a bolt of electricity from Clefable's other finger hit him square in the head. The fairy type swept her arm up, and Honey went flying into Buddy, sinking slightly into his head. Bellossom had thrown Charon next to Mars, and she had her one free arm around his neck. The grass type stood at attention propped up on her roots, shimmying back and forth as if to figure out how to best approach Sweetheart or occasionally sending what looked like Energy Balls to support her teammates.

Mars was using our teams' exhaustion to run circles around us. The status quo had to be broken. Not only would our likelihood of winning be lower the longer this battle went on, we were also on a very tight timeframe.

"I noticed something," I said.

"What is it?" both girls asked at the same time.

Having gotten up, Honey opted to go help Toxicroak against Wigglytuff instead, leaving Bellossom and Clefable to Talonflame and Buddy. In a flash of light, he sank his fist into the normal type's blubbery skin, but it simply bounced off and staggered him. Blunt hits were useless. Toxicroak managed to sink one of her extending, poisoned claws into Wigglytuff's flank and jumped away before the Hyper Voice could hit her too hard.

"When Honey was pinned down, Bellossom could have used her thorns to stab into his back and kill him. I was ready to recall him, if that happened," I whispered. "In fact, I wanted her to do it so Buddy could have an opening. But she didn't."

Maylene blinked and shifted uncomfortably. "So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying she's milking this for all it's worth and having fun, because she thinks we have a connection and believes this might be the last time we'll see each other," I said harshly. "Maylene, pick Cecilia up in your arms again."

As soon as the two were ready, I looked at my daughter.

"Sweetheart," I said. "Rock Polish is done?"

The rock type turned her head my way and grinned, flashing countless rows of teeth.

"Go kill."

Maylene's eyes widened. "Wha—"

With a burst of speed and an expulsion of sand behind her that swarmed us, and clung to my nose, hair and the inside of my mouth, Tyranitar dashed toward Mars and Clefable with a roar that rippled across Spear Pillar. Immediately, Bellossom pushed herself between them and her thorns shimmered with a brilliant green, all lashing out like they were alive. The majority simply pushed against Sweetheart, but some also wrapped around her thick legs and arms.

It was all for naught.

This was where she excelled. The sharpened thorns barely scraped her armor, she ripped and bit them away from her limbs, and she kept going like an immutable force, her rhythm having barely slowed from all of the momentum she had gathered. Sweetheart would have rammed into Bellossom had she not moved away and narrowly dodged, but the plant-like Pokemon had for all intents and purposes misunderstood what we were doing. She would not be bait, because we didn't care about her, and Talonflame used the lapse in attention to dive into her roots and slice them to ribbons with countless bits of sharpened air, causing her to fall back to the floor. Wigglytuff inflated and tried to blow himself toward Mars, but Toxicroak poked holes into his skin and he went flying uncontrollably like a deflating balloon who was easy pickings for Electivire and Jellicent to harass him from afar.

Clefable was the final obstacle, and Sweetheart fell upon her influence with a crash. Gravity pushed against dozens of tons of shifting stone platings that covered every inch of her skin. I would not allow Mars to take anything else from me. I would not allow her to wound, let alone harm. I could see the pink dust vibrating around Sweetheart's plates as she continuously broke apart Clefable's belief.

And what was a fairy, when their belief was shattered?

Nothing. I would know.

The barrier broke apart like glass as soon as Sweetheart spread the dark blotches of sands across its surface, and the dark type bit. Clefable tried to jump back, but a sudden shake in the earth slowed her just enough for Tyranitar to seize her by the arm, and it was as if the very air shook with the sound of her Crunch— a terrifying snap of bone and sinew that went against what Spear Pillar was supposed to represent. A harsh, grating sound of teeth grinding through everything until they met again with a snap followed by a disbelieving scream sputtering out of Clefable's mouth.

There was no technique after that. Clefable tried to fire back with an Ice Beam from her other hand, but Sweetheart flipped her over and toppled her, allowing her bloodied teeth to sink into the fairy's stomach while Mars watched with a dead look in her eye. It wasn't like she could do anything. Her other two Pokemon were tied up with the rest of the team, after all.

My friends' sacrifice had allowed for this. Dusknoir's death had allowed for this, and Mars had been so focused on hurting me that she didn't opt to hang his potential presence over our necks the entire battle— or at least could have tried to, given that Honey could feel ghosts.

And so, with each savage jerk of her neck, Sweetheart tore away more and more of Clefable until there was nothing left but viscera, blood, torn skin and leaking purple smoke. Maylene couldn't bear to look at it, but I did. I looked and searched for the hurt in Mars' eye and found it delightful to notice, especially when Clefable's blood started to disappear. Clefable was the one who'd killed Chase.

A grin split my face.

She got what she fucking deserved.

"St—Star," Mars sobbed.

But the battle wasn't over.

While her Pokemon were locked down, Mars herself still held Charon hostage, and her hold hadn't even loosened after witnessing her Pokemon being murdered.

"Stop the fight. Keep going, and I kill him," she sniffled.

What, had she expected me to play along and not kill her Pokemon? Or maybe she thought we'd be more weakened from our climb here. And a bluff, this far into the battle? Only Honey hesitated at those words, and I had him keep going with a nod. Hesitation would be the death of him now that Mars' Pokemon had stopped not going for the kill. A wide thorny vine scraped across the electric type's back like a whip, and he staggered to his knees. Flames overtook Talonflame, and the bird launched herself at Bellossom like a missile whose shockwave shook me to my core. Within an instant, she had rammed into the grass type at full force and exploded, yet the damage to her own body was minimal. She had turned her feathers to steel and had added to her weight to punch as hard as Cecilia's heaviest hitters—

"Grace!" Maylene screamed.

I looked at her exasperatedly. "What?!"

"Are you okay with this risk?" she asked, her hold on Cecilia tightening with her rising nervousness. "I mean, isn't this your friend's uncle—"

"Quiet down. Incoming," Cecilia whispered.

In the midst of the nascent argument, Mars had jumped over Sweetheart's tail and had started to run, not away from us, but toward us, carrying Charon under her arm like he was a rag. Wigglytuff opened his mouth and inhaled again, this time with more strength than before, and both Talonflame and Jellicent had to propel themselves with air and water not to be swallowed up by the normal type. A root wrapped around Honey's wrist and pulled to force him to stay where he was and an Energy Ball hit him in the back while another stabbed him in the— shoulder, since he rotated to prevent her from hitting his spine or neck.

My hand was steady when I raised the Pokeball and pressed the recall button, but the grass type could control her roots as well as Angel could her vines, and it took six attempts for me to recall Honey, and by that point he was so horribly injured that I'd be better off releasing Angel despite his eye— Mars was getting close, and though Sweetheart was following, the redhead was somehow faster, and Bellossom had come back with a vengeance to slow her down further, which worked better than the last time without gathered momentum. Mars was giving us a wide berth because it looked like she wanted to go after Cecilia.

Maylene placed Cece back on the ground. "I've got this. Pokemon might make her commit to a snap decision and make her kill him—"

Mars was already here. Blue light smoldered around Maylene's fist, and though the Commander moved so fast the coming kick had been a blur, Maylene crouched in an instant, latched onto the girl's leg and pulled her closer, landing a jab square on her other tibia. With a frustrated groan, Mars let go of Charon, dropping him on the ground and swung wildly at Maylene. The hit landed on the Gym Leader's shoulder this time, and she buckled her leg to absorb the impact while I slowly dragged Charon away from Mars. The old man was bleeding from his forehead, his glasses were broken, and was breathing with hoarse breath. There was a massive purple bruise on his neck.

Maylene seemed to have technique on her side, but hadn't expected Mars to be able to keep up with her. Who, really, had ever kept up with her other than her father? Mars was no human, and it showed. The Gym Leader spat out a mouthful of blood— she must have gotten hit while I hadn't looked— and raised her fists to her face while Mars gnashed her teeth together as she limped around her. When I grabbed Angel's Pokeball to release him now that Charon was safe, Maylene shook her head.

"I can handle this. Save his eye." Maylene looked back at Mars, and then spoke with the weight of the world on her shoulders. "I won't let you hurt my friends."

"Oh, I see what this is. Another greedy hussy added to the pile," Mars sneered. "Whatever."

Mars struck first. Having learned not to just attack wildly, she instead feinted a hit at the Gym Leader's flank, but spun and twisted herself until she delivered a roundhouse kick to Maylene's hip. My friend groaned, yet aura flared to life and she darted forward, unleashing a flurry of strikes that Mars could barely dodge or block. Mars missing her right arm had her on the backfoot from the start, but in terms of speed, she barely kept up. Any other person, be that Maylene or Mars, would have gotten knocked out already. Fist fights didn't last this long.

There came a shift that I barely noticed on Maylene's face, and she crouched to hit Mars' legs with a low sweep that Mars hadn't anticipated, and as soon as the Commander tripped, she never recovered. Like an Ekans and with lightning speed as if she'd done this a thousand times, Maylene grappled one of her arms around Mars neck while she crawled behind her, and she wrapped her legs around her waist to lock her arm against her body. In the background, Bellossom had finally been dealt with and crushed to a pulp of grass while Wigglytuff was bleeding poison and was burning from Will-O-Wisp. All Mars could do was claw at Maylene's skin and thrash around, but…

It was over.

"Check her boot," Maylene said, ignoring Mars' insults and struggling screams. "She was looking at it multiple times during the fight."

I looked at Mars' feet moving in every direction, and felt like one hit from her thrashing feet would shatter every bone in my hand. Hell, even the impacts on Spear Pillar's floor was loud enough to question this demand.

There was probably a knife in there.

Cecilia tilted her head. "Can't we just kill her? There's no time."

I agreed, searching through the backpack Maylene had let go of in the middle of the fight. "Let's. Hold her."

"Wait! Wait, don't kill her right here— I'm fucking below her!"

"Gah!" Charon yelped behind me. He must have been crawling away slowly, but Cecilia had grabbed onto his ankle. It was a strange sight to see, given that she was still on the ground— but that didn't matter.

"Get Toxicroak to do it," she quietly said, Charon squirming in her hold. She was weak and wounded, but he was all of that and old. "You'll swap."

My throat tightened when I found my old axe nestled in the corner of the bag's insides. I'd grabbed it in a desire for revenge with the news of Justin's death. It was the same axe I'd cut Backlot with.

Arceus as my witness, had Maylene not been here and had I not believed Mimi would have been disappointed, I would have hacked Mars to death and made it slow, and the fact that she was rattled me. Like I was leaving something undone.

The handle was left unattended, and I closed the bag again. We recalled our Pokemon. Wigglytuff and Bellossom had ended up dead. Their bodies were disappearing, and at first I believed that this was because they were ghosts, but even Honey's blood had been wiped where he had been wounded by Bellossom. Toxicroak and Buddy were in a pretty sorry state. There was no fanfare to the end of the battle, no climactic ending. We were just going through the motions, now. Everyone, Galactic or not, was at the end of their rope.

When Toxicroak grabbed onto Mars, the Pokemon asked us with an ironic, nervous smile if we had anything to say to her. Maylene had already been turning away and attending to Charon, since she did not want to see Mars die, and neither Cecilia nor I spoke up. It was Mars, who actually spoke up. It was not the whining I'd expected, begging for Cyrus or to stay alive.

"Thank you… for being being my friend."

It was so outrageous the dregs of Mars' excitement I'd stolen earlier had me laugh, but only for a moment. Still, both Maylene and Cecilia saw, and my girlfriend knew me well enough to know that that mood swing had been quite unnatural.

I brought myself close her ear, so close my lips were nearly touching her lobe. "You are a person, but you are not alive. There is no afterlife where you are going, no respite, no love, no attention, no— no—" My fingers contracted, and I started to sob. "You fucking killed him. You killed him. You don't even deserve my attention."

"I just wanted someone who—"

"Kill her."

The claw plunged into her neck and gouged it open as soon as I gave the order, and Cecilia had whispered the exact same words right after I'd said them. Her head fell onto the beige bricks with a dull thump and rolled for a few feet. It wasn't a clean cut by any means. Bits of flesh hung from the neck and the poison actively rotting her from the inside was visible, bubbling and spreading.

What we'd had…

Had been friendship to her.

Disgusting, pathetic worm.

"Let's keep going. Bring Charon along so he doesn't cause trouble," I said.

"If he does, I'll be here," Cecilia absent-mindedly said. I didn't know what that meant exactly, but I was too tired to ask.

Maylene grabbed the last remaining Commander's Pokeballs, grabbed our backpack, and placed them as deep as she could. We recalled our last remaining Pokemon so they could have a rest, but we knew already that if Cyrus hadn't suffered the same fate as Mars' team had before fighting us, we had no chance of winning.

Yet we had to try anyway, did we not? We had to throw ourselves against the wall and hope we'd have a breakthrough. Just when we'd been about to get going again, Maylene's head swiveled behind us. At first I thought she was looking at Mars' body, which was rapidly disappearing into the air, but when I followed her gaze, Mira Compton was standing there, leaning against her knees and laboring for each breath with Alakazam next to us.

She had, however, no eyes for us. They were locked onto her uncle.

Maylene frowned. "I didn't even feel her arrive—"

"Uncle Ernie…" Mira cried, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Finally."

Still in Maylene's grasp, the Commander avoided her gaze and clicked his tongue, muttering something about hoping Cyrus would wipe everyone out soon so he didn't have to suffer our presence for much longer. While Mira walked up to her uncle and hugged him, something that he did not respond to whatsoever, Cecilia worked her jaw. She'd been leaning against me to stand up, which was progress from a few hours earlier.

"We need to go. We've wasted enough time."

Alakazam frowned and spoke into our minds. What happened to you?

"I died," Cecilia nonchalantly said. "Now let's get going."

In many ways, this reunion was horribly banal. We didn't have the energy to squeal and be happy, for one, including Mira, but we also had no time to dawdle given that we'd spent long enough fighting Mars. That didn't mean we weren't talking, though. Once Mira finally noticed that Cecilia wasn't just hurt in the head and that her irises were gone, she demanded to know the full details of what had happened and berated her over it. All Cece could do was ask for forgiveness. I explained to Maylene that maybe Mars' death had pushed Mira our way, just like Saturn's death had improved our standing with Coronet. This place seemed to stretch very far, after all.

"I can't believe I let someone sneak up on me like that," Maylene grumbled.

Mira winced at every whimper her uncle did. "Can you like… chill? He won't do anything if you relax your hold a little."

I wanted to go off on her, but didn't. Instead, I quickened my pace a little until I realized Cecilia couldn't keep up. Seeing as Maylene apologized and listened, I ignored Charon getting coddled and tuned them out.

"Conflicted?" Cecilia asked.

"Pisses me off that he gets an easy hand now," I grunted.

Cecilia's head craned to the side to an unnatural amount and her hair swayed to the side. "Reunions like these— with years of longing— are always warm." Her skin felt cold against mine, and her voice, too. "I doubt Mira knows about Mars' actions either way."

"Right. Shit."

I owed it to her… I needed to tell her.

"Should I tell her right before this?" I muttered. "Right before our last attempt at freeing the Lake Guardians?"

Cecilia blinked. Her white eyes unsettled me and would take some time getting used to. "I wouldn't want to die with regrets if I were you. Not anymore."

Arceus, she was just so—

So sad to listen to, now. It was still her, but it was as if her hope was just gone.

"Mira, can you… come here for a sec."

Mustering the courage to speak this aloud was tough. It was like the more I said it, the realer it got. Mira glanced at her uncle, who wasn't even giving her the time of day, and approached me while muttering something to herself. We needed to walk around one of the collapsed pillars to keep going. The ones around us had changed their architecture from the others, being completely smooth instead of having rows of dents running vertically parallel until they reached the top. The impact had indented the ground and made the spire sink into the floor, and I could see grass growing in the cracks.

"What is it? I'm kind of—" Busy, she wanted to say, but she didn't. "I'm looking at his brain and memories so I can know how to work it when this is all over."

Thank goodness Maylene hadn't understood the true meaning of that sentence. Or maybe she just hadn't heard, since we were to her left. Charon didn't seem to care for it one bit. He truly believed his side was going to win. I supposed he was tied with Cecilia in that regard.

I sighed and revealed the truth in a blur, tearing up as soon as I began. Chase and Denzel fought Mars, and Chase died while Denzel is heavily wounded.

"Wha— Grace, they're alive! Or— or at least they should be getting professional help from the League, but Mars didn't definitely didn't kill them. Pauline, Emi and I managed to get there in time and turned the tides!"

"Huh?"

And the world was flipped on its head.



There were, Cynthia thought, areas of this planet where lines between it and other worlds grew thin. The Alolan Islands, for example, and for reasons unknown, were the sources of approximately 99.8% of breaches by creatures known as Ultra Beasts originated from, and even then, the local deities— one of the Tapus— always flew off to slay them before they could cause too much trouble. As the throne of Arceus and the place from which He had built this entire world, was one of these, though she doubted any extradimensional entities would even dare to penetrate the thin veil here. It was the oldest place in existence, and therefore Arceus had been… maybe green was the wrong way to say it, but Cynthia's working theory was that He did not afford as much care here as He had other places. But then why was Alola particularly vulnerable, then? The world was draped in so many shadows she couldn't see, each of them so interesting, and yet there was so little time.

A few dozen feet away from her, Garchomp finished off a Jolteon who had quickly been dashing in and out of range by simply growing bored and stopped pretending to be slower than her. Milotic coiled around Cynthia with a protective, transparent shell dripping with water, and Glaceon had long finished freezing large swathes of Cyrus' personal guard. She could see him now, his back turned to her on a slightly elevated platform of Spear Pillar beyond a set of broken down, beige stairs. The Champion had never spoken to Cyrus, let alone seen his face beyond the old pictures her people had shown her of a younger man with the same dead look in his eyes, but she knew he must have been intelligent to avoid her for so long. That meant that he must have known these grunts who had so proudly declared themselves as his 'personal guard' would barely last a minute against her.

It was a harsh sight, to see Jolteon's blood soaking one of the enormous, broken pillars. The electric type was still, yet more was splurting from its neck where Garchomp had bit, spraying its surroundings like a fountain.

Of course, that was only temporary. As soon as Cynthia took a step forward and began walking toward Cyrus and the three Lake Guardians hovering above him, the blood began disappearing in the corner of her eye. Soon enough, Jolteon would disappear as well, as would all the other corpses she'd wrought. Spear Pillar could not remain impure for very long. Warm, soothing wind whipped her hair and dark coat as she climbed the stairs and found herself standing on the same platform, clear of any pillars and cracks on the floor. Milotic slithered up, Glaceon followed her and Garchomp cleared the stairs with a single jump, unwilling to bow even to God's creation.

Cyrus didn't turn, yet Cynthia noticed a tiny craning of his neck, and he placed his hands squarely behind his back. One of his fists was clenched tightly around the Red Chain, which shook in his hand with each mental command he gave to the Legendaries he had enslaved.

"Cynthia Collins," Cyrus droned, still not facing her. She noticed that the Lake Guardians were quietly muttering to themselves and that the air in front of them was… vibrating with an almost unnoticeable sound that grew louder if she focused on it for too long. "I suppose it's the first time we meet. I expected those useless children to get here, not you, but it matters not."

Cynthia scanned the surroundings and silently told her team to handle any attacks from Cyrus. The man's files had had a rather spotty knowledge of his team at first, but the information they'd gotten from grunts this past year had filled in the blanks. To be safe, she let out the rest of her team as well. Braviary, Eelektross, Roserade, Togekiss, Lucario, and Gastrodon all spread out throughout the platform.

Cyrus did not react by releasing his own team. Perhaps he knew they would only be a pitstop, then. Unexpected, for a man with delusions of grandeur.

A ghastly, purple light emanated from Spiritomb's keystone as it rolled away from her feet. For a moment, they struggled, echoing like a sickly cough to exit their implement. This place, it was too pure, too peaceful for an agent of loss, pain and regret such as Spiritomb to emerge without some effort, and nearly all ghost types would feel the same way. There were whispers as their disc formed and green spots dotted the purple gas. A hundred and eight voices lashing out without a goal until Cynthia snapped her fingers.

CYNTHIA.

CHAMPION.

BRAT.

ANNOYANCE.

BELOVED.

ESTEEMED.

HUMAN.

IRRITANT.

STRONG-WILLED.


So many more names.

WE ARE.

AT YOUR.

SERVICE.


The words came quickly— almost simultaneously, even— since they were an amalgamation of souls, and not a unified mind talking. The many names each spirit had for her had still been echoing by the time they were done.

"Buy me some time," Cynthia instantly said.

THIS PIECE OF MEAT.

THIS MAN.

THIS PROPPED UP FLESH.

HE.

HAS.

NO.

WEAKNESS.

As she'd expected, then. Leave it to an emotionless shell to not be vulnerable to Spiritomb's prodding. With Cyrus, there would be no emotional angle, no insecurities to exploit. Given enough time, these always came naturally to a Spiritomb, and they were great at hurting and breaking minds, as they'd been broken to even come to form.

She'd expected this.

"Not him," she said with an unwavering stare. "The Guardians."

Spiritomb's gas stopped spinning, and their form froze.

A sickly laugh echoed across Spear Pillar, and the ghost got to work. Cynthia wouldn't know what Spiritomb would say, exactly, and she did not expect it to actually stop the process of summoning Dialga and Palkia. Controlled and weaker than usual or not, these were still Gods. What she needed, as she'd told Spiritomb, was to buy time.

"Your petty tricks won't work," Cyrus calmly spoke. Not many people would be able to ignore Spiritomb's pressure like he would. "Everything is as I foresaw it, ready for the creation of my New World, free of all imperfections. Free of these so-called Gods. I am the only pure being capable of—"

She tuned him out. Cynthia was not in the mood for a talk.

Volo had, in his time, climbed Mount Coronet with the three Lake Guardians in tow. As one of the very few people who had owned six Pokemon in his time, along with their incredible strength compared to their contemporaries, few people could ever hope to oppose him. A humble merchant, he had pretended to be for a large part of his life. He'd gotten married, had a child, and yet after witnessing the whispers of Giratina through the surface of a random lake while traveling, he had gone insane.

Pokemon Wielder, they called him back then. His title had spread throughout the lands for years until an unlikely group of children had stopped him where she stood at this very moment. Blasts of every type swarmed the thick, psychic barrier around Cyrus, whose Pokemon still were nowhere to be seen, and Cynthia noticed Mesprit's tails trembling and tensing, and the calm winds began to sweep strongly across Spear Pillar's faded beige stones. Instead of attacking the Lake Guardians' barrier, Gastrodon had been excreting large amounts of water. It had dripped past her boots and was spreading throughout the platform. The Dusk was anathema to the real world, and so Giratina could peer at it by using reflections, be it mirrors, water, ice, any reflective surface.

But Volo had done it with water, so with water she would attempt the same.

What Cynthia had first wondered was, how had Volo garnered the attention of Giratina, a being so above himself that she was surprised they could even communicate in any way, and yet it was Giratina who had shown itself first. Distortion had peeked through the waters observed, yet it had not done or said anything, at first. A flash of its presence had been enough to make Volo question everything he had ever lived and everything he would do from that day forth. The question of what it had wanted had eaten at her for weeks and had hidden herself from her dreams, and she still did not know, and so she would be risking everything. She did not know if Giratina would come to her aid, or simply not care, or wreck havoc on its own.

For Volo, to behold Distortion meant to challenge every rule he had believed ironclad. She was worried as well, of course, but she was confident in her mental fortitude. Cynthia was more preoccupied with what its mere presence would do to Sinnoh. Giratina must have been locked away to its own world for good reason, forever doomed to observe but never interact— that was what the files on Distortion said about it.

Yet, the files were wrong.

Here, where the world's consistency was at its thinnest,

Here, where Arceus had crafted and built everything she had ever known.

Here, where her ancestor had had stood and allied itself with Giratina in an effort to harm.

She would save the world.

Cynthia began to chant specific words Volo had. They were not some sort of spell or ritual but the exact words her ancestor had said the moment he had seen true madness, when he had stared at the abyss and it had stared back in full.

Sinnoh's Champion looked directly into the water. "I must know the truth behind the world, I must peer through the water and see further," she muttered under her breath as she crouched and stuck her face closer and closer to the water. The air above Cyrus began to scream every breath it took, and shook so much that she struggled not to plug her ears with the palm of her hands. "Nothing else matters. Nothing else matters. Nothing else matters. Nothing else matters. Nothing else matters. Nothing else matters—"



They weren't dead! Or at least they haven't been when Mira had sent Pauline and Emilia on their way to get them help. They were horribly wounded, but they weren't hurt. For once, it felt like something good had happened, and I was so unused to that that I almost didn't believe it. I'd had to check on Mira to see if she wasn't lying to me to make me happier before we had to possibly take down Cyrus— not that I'd expected her to. I just needed to leave no stone unturned, and since Mars had said the opposite and also not lied. The only reason I'd found for this discrepancy was that Mars had actually believed Chase would die from his wounds, and therefore not lied.

I'd known this to be a possible loophole, but hadn't expected it to come to pass in the most important hour.

"Don't celebrate too early," Cecilia had warned. "Nothing's been confirmed yet."

"But the League's their best chance to live." I tried to keep frustration out of my tone, but probably failed, given how she looked at me. "This… I just want to have this."

"Even though you've felt the crushing sense of that hope being snatched away from you once already with Justin?"

I nodded with an accompanying hum. "I choose to believe in the good of the world."

Spear Pillar's homogenous form was changing, now. Not only was the path widening, there were fewer and fewer actual spires around us. The bricks were becoming smoother and smoother with damage in the stone being rarer than not. The strange sound I'd been hearing also grew louder the more we approached, and it was not until another four minutes that we came upon another set of stairs to a raised platform. Water that looked too transparent to be natural dripped down the platform and looked to be as deep as a puddle; my reflection within was clear as if I was looking into a mirror.

There was no time to dawdle. The sounds of battle was deafeningly loud in my right ear, and lights of every color shone right beyond the stairs. Charon's mouth gaped in disbelief as soon as we dragged him and ourselves up the stairs.

Cynthia was here, knees and forehead against the water as if she was searching for something as she whispered words I couldn't hear under her breath. The image was so absurd it took a moment to register what was happening.

Every member of her team was throwing everything they had at Cyrus. There were so many simultaneous moves here that I could barely hear myself think or even understand most of what she was throwing at him. If she was already here, why hadn't she come across Mars and Charon? Had they managed to hide from her? Cyrus was—

FREE THE GUARDIANS.

THE GUARDIANS OF THE LAKE.

THE OTHERS WILL PROTECT YOU.

YOU HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR.

The voices took over everything. It dug beneath my scalp, beneath my skull and spread from my brain to every inch of me. There were too many whispers to count, but also screams. Voices in every tone and inflection, women and men, separate, but working as one to convey a sense of urgency that my body wanted to prioritize above all else. They could manufacture anxiety and horror by unraveling every secret, every insecurity you wanted to keep buried and never think of again. Sweat dripped down my forehead and drenched my back and armpits. When I remembered to breathe, it shook and barely made it through my tightened throat.

I wanted to get away from here. To be anywhere but here. And this was when they weren't trying to hurt me mentally when I knew they very well could have. This feeling— this pressure— was like I was teetering on the edge of a cliff. I knew Spiritomb could see my deepest shames and worries, and it made being close to them an exercise in willpower. If they wanted, they could ruin my friendships right then and there. Tell Mira that the thought of killing her uncle had crossed my mind, tell Maylene that for a moment, I'd found her annoying for even worrying about Charon's fate or that I'd wanted for her not to be here so I could have Mars to myself.

That was just the surface of me. I'd changed for the better, but I was still Grace Pastel.

All of my friends had heard Spiritomb speak, yet I was the only one whose teeth was chattering. Mira and Maylene were pale, but held strong while Cecilia looked entranced by the spinning of the purple and green gas spewing out of the keystone.

"Cece, can you do this?" Mira asked.

"I think I can," she said. Once she held out her hand and froze, I knew she'd passed onto Azelf's mindscape.

Thank the Legendaries.

Due to the number of attacks, I couldn't actually see Cyrus nor any of the Lake Guardians, but I could feel Mesprit to the man's right, hovering in the sky above his shoulder. My fingers twitched, and I plunged deep into Mesprit's mind for what I knew would be my third and final try.



"Mesprit."

My grey fingers rasped against the wide, boney arch. It still looked like a child had scribbled it on a piece of paper, without any of the detail, but it was obvious to me now that Mesprit had done their best to recreate what they remembered of Spear Pillar, which wasn't much. Now that Mars no longer holding onto Mesprit using the Red Chain, the cabin in the wood had disappeared. Instead, it had been replaced by… well, nothing. There was an office door where I stood, which was at a plateau of fake Coronet, but the best way to describe this structure was a white box. It had no windows, no imperfections, and was perfectly smooth.

"May I come in?" I asked. I did not bother being respectful with my tone. Instead, I let my true emotions show. Most of it was pity for this being who was so powerful, yet so childlike all the same. All they'd wanted was to see Arceus again, and they'd been tricked and manipulated again and again.

"Who is this?"

"Grace. I want to talk to you, face to face."

The Legendary's voice resonated throughout the door. "I remember you. You're the girl who was no fun. My Shard."

"That's me," I said.

Mesprit paused. "Come in, then."

There was a click, and the door opened on its own, leading me into the most non-descript room I'd ever seen. It was just as boring as the outside. A white room with literally nothing inside of it but Mesprit, hovering there, and a bright lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Cyrus was as blank on the inside as he'd been described, then. He was, surprisingly, nowhere to be seen, but letting my guard down right now would be…

Well, it's not like it would matter. Unlike the first two times, I had no arguments prepared, no pros and cons list, no plan to convince Mesprit to open their eyes and see the truth behind their actions.

I made my way toward Mesprit, who hovered in the center of the room, and sat on the floor.

I patted the ground in front of me. "C'mere."

The Legendary lowered themselves and stared right at me. Their bright yellow eyes were unsettling, and I glanced away uncomfortably. "Sorry, I'm not great with eye contact from Gods."

Mesprit's tails intertwined and they spun around me. "What do you want? Why are you here over and over? Don't you know when it's time to give up?"

I drummed my fingers against the white floor. "I'm chiseling at a stone, I guess."

"Comparing me to a stone is rude," Mesprit groused.

"It's how I feel, though. I'm carving away at you in hopes that one day I'll get right there." I tapped Mesprit in the chest, where their heart would have been if they had one. Their skin felt smooth like ceramic, yet could still bend. "I don't know if it'll work, but I hope so. It'd be a shame if everything ended."

"What do you mean? I'm just going to see Him soon."

"Hm. And how's that going?"

"Huh?" Mesprit said with narrowing eyes. "Are you doubting me?!"

"No, I'm just… genuinely asking," I said, feeling at the smooth ground below. Grey paint had nearly overtaken my hands. "I've been wondering, you know, about what you'd ask Him if you could. I think I have a good guess as to what that is."

"Hmph!" Mesprit pouted, crossing their arms. "Entertain me, then."

It could have been why? Why did He stay so far away, why did he never speak to them, why had He condemned them to an eternity of boredom and misery at the bottom of a lake, when so many Legendaries had free reign over where they went or lived. Ho-Oh traveled the world, occasionally roosting in Ecruteak. Lugia, though it had been seen much less, roamed the oceans and sometimes made itself known near a coastal town. The Tapus sometimes joined festivals in their name in Alola, the Legendary birds were as free as could be and acted more in the name of destruction than anything else, and there were probably many more that I had no idea about.

And yet…

But this was Mesprit, herald of emotion we were talking about. Questions such as these would fit Uxie, but not them.

"You'd tell him you love him more than anything else, no matter what," I guessed.

Mesprit made a strange, surprised noise. "You actually…"

"It's not answers you want. I mean, they'd be nice, but you want someone to connect to. Something real. I guess Arceus being your father figure is the most obvious thing to look at." Speaking His name made my throat feel warm. I'd half expected them to get angry, but instead, they just stared, dumbfounded. "That's why Mars promised you all of that, but she's dead now. What has Cyrus promised you?"

"The… same thing. It's what I'm being made to do right now— summoning Time and Space to get Him to join us on His throne."

A sad smile stretched across my lips. "No originality, huh? All he could do was steal Mars' plan, because he doesn't understand you."

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you think he isn't here? He's a shell of a human. You called him that," I said. Half of it was guesswork, really, but I truly believed what I was saying. "Mars could understand you. She was a terrible human being who deserved nothing but pain, but she was also lonely, just like you are. She wanted a connection, but that was never going to be you, either. What you want isn't Arceus, Mesprit. You want a friend."

Mesprit stayed quiet, but they winced.

"Assuming that this plan to bring Arceus into the real world is real," I continued. "He's beyond you. He's beyond all of us, and Cyrus sure as hell isn't going to be your friend. He doesn't even know what that is."

"Shut up!"

The yell threw me back, and had me rolling on the ground, but this world wasn't real, and I felt no pain. It felt weird, hearing so clearly and having no ringing in my ears. I calmly stood up and bit the inside of my lip.

"You're lashing out because I'm making sense."

"So what?!" Mesprit cried out. "It's not like you want to be my friend!"

"Your definition of friendship is very different from mine," I acknowledged with a tight nod. "And you want me to do things that I'm not comfortable with. The first time we met, you forced me to love you and asked me if I wanted to brainwash all of my friends and my girlfriend. You're a Concept, and you're stuck to your ways, so it's not really your fault, but even if you stopped when I asked, that first impression is a hard thing to get past for people." I approached Mesprit, getting close enough for them to feel my breath on their body. "I'm not saying everything will be perfect; that as soon as we get out of here, we'll be inseparable and that you'll find me fun like Mars or Atreus, but I am saying that I'm willing to give this a try. I'd honestly be doing this even if the world wasn't about to end, or at least I think so."

I wrapped my hands around the tiny Legendary, and they froze in my arms. Such a fragile body for a God of such power.

"Atreus, Mars, Cyrus, they all used you for power, whereas all I've ever wanted was to be normal. I won't ask you to change, but in return I ask you that you do the same for me. It'll be hard to see eye to eye, but I'll give you something no one ever has done before. I'll try."

Something broke. Lights of every color and more I'd never seen before enveloped Mesprit and radiated out of them. They were back.

"You make good heart-to-heart speeches, Shard!" Mesprit giggled. I could feel their emotion bleeding out of their skin and making me happy, too— close to the happiest I'd ever been in my life— so I let go and smiled. "Maybe you weren't such a regrettable choice after all! Let's get out of here!"

The spell was broken.

I grinned. "Let's."



It was a white, blank room that met Mira when she finally convinced Uxie to open the door. The trek here had been long in the first place because she just wasn't used to having a single mind any longer, and her body was already starting to blur, glitch and disintegrate at its edges, so having to beg a God to be let in a room had not been ideal. The girl froze when she saw Cyrus standing next to Uxie. It was her first time actually seeing Team Galactic's leader with her own two eyes. He donned Team Galactic's uniform, had gelled, spiky blue hair and defined cheekbones that made his face look thin. His eyebrow ridge was defined, even if the hair itself was shaved, and they cast a perpetual shadow over his eyes.

"Mira Compton." His voice made her extremely uncomfortable. Somehow, it was even worse than Justin's had been. It was like speaking to a computer program, and not a human. "Let us get on with this farce."

For a few seconds, she felt scared to answer. There was this way Cyrus had of carrying himself: the straightened back, his look, his darkened eyes, the way he loomed over everything, it all had this effect where you didn't want to speak out of line, and it was stupid, because he couldn't even feel anger.

This isn't real. He's not going to sic his Pokemon on me, Mira thought with a deep breath. "Uxie. Let me set the record straight, I know there are an infinite number of questions you want to ask Arceus, but that's not what's happening here." She was using the same tactic that had brought her so close to victory last time, when uncle Ernie had been controlling Uxie, and not Cyrus. This time, her mother wasn't there to break her. "What this man desires above all else is to be a God—"

Cyrus shook his head. Just that single action had Mira nearly sowing her mouth shut, and now she finally understood how a man without emotion had built this cult. There was this magnetic property about him.

"You misunderstand me, Mira Compton," he calmly said. Or she supposed this was just how he always sounded. "Being a God is a simplification of my goals and an assumption that is bereft of your intellect."

Her intellect? Had Uncle Ernie spoken to him about—

No! Don't get lost in his game.

"I— I don't care what you want!" Mira forced out. "The crux of the matter is, you won't let Uxie ask Arceus anything. Hell, I doubt He'd even fucking answer, anyway!" When Uxie just hovered there silently, she clenched a fist. "Uxie, say something."

Knowledge tilted their head. "I am thinking. Do not disturb me."

She gulped. For a moment, she thought Uxie would open their eyes, but instead their gems began to glimmer. She was a little stumped, but that didn't last long. The most important thing was to keep talking.

"What is your plan, then?" she asked Cyrus.

"To strip the world bare from all of its inessential properties," he answered without missing a beat. Then, he looked around the white room. "Take this room. What the universe needs is a place much like this one. This place will never change. Nothing will ever happen here, unto eternity."

Mira scoffed, glancing at Uxie. They'd better be listening to this. "That's… I mean, that's just fucking awful?"

"Think about it. A world where nothing happens means a world built for me. A world without spirit or emotion. A world where I alone will rule." He looked at his hand and softly clenched it. "That is what I want."

"What about the others?" Mira asked. "What about Charon, the other Commanders, or your grunts?"

"Meaningless, worthless fodder." He shrugged. "They were never going to be a part of it in the first place."

A strange, grave sound rang out, like the shattering of a gem, and Uxie's eyes shone through their eyelids.

"I have heard enough."

Cyrus frowned. "I don't understand."

"Begone."

He disappeared in an instant, and Uxie smiled thinly at Mira.

"The lack of emotion can sometimes be a strength, but it is mostly a weakness, my dear Mira," Uxie said. "He fundamentally cannot understand, because he was born a broken man. Possibly the only one of his kind. I have analyzed him, in our short time together. His case of alexithymia is so extreme it shouldn't even be possible."

Mira didn't know what that was, but there was no time.

"We need to go."



In a world so vast it might as well have been endless, a place that had tried to keep her trapped everywhere she had gone, Cecilia banged her fist against the metallic door. Her arms and legs were burning and actually hurting her. It had been a part of her trial, to see if she could bear through the pain and push on in spite of everything.

"Worthless. I barely recognize you."

Meaningless.

It was all meaningless. She fell to her knees and allowed the dark emotions that constantly swirled around her head to take hold. Jealousy, regret, loss— it hurt so badly that she wanted to tear her heart out and crush it between her palms so the pain could stop. Physical harm, she could handle, but ever since she'd come back to life, it was as if her negative thoughts would always overtake the positive no matter what she tried. Thoughts that would have normally stayed intangible or that she wouldn't have acted on.

She had failed. All she could do was wait.



When I opened my eyes, I saw Mesprit and Uxie spinning around the rift, the vibration in the sky that was growing wider and wider. I'd characterized it as a scream before, but I knew it to be inaccurate now. It was as if the world was breathing, in and out, but it had just been so loud that I'd been mistaken. My relieved smile turned to horror when I saw that Azelf hadn't moved yet, but they were slowly, slowly beginning to glow as well. Seeing as Cecilia was still frozen in place and Maylene was holding her up, she'd…

Yeah, she either wasn't done yet or had failed. Maylene had been staring worryingly at Cynthia, and Lucario hurriedly told her to let her be and fired another blast of concentrated aura mixed with liquid metal. Now that Mesprit had slipped through Cyrus' fingers, Cynthia's Pokemon were actually churning through the barrier. Ten, twenty more seconds, maybe, and they'd break through!

Mesprit and Uxie were singing, dancing and laughing, for they were free at last, and their joy reached their sibling, slowly but surely, as they worked to free Azelf from Cyrus' influence. I wished they could do both at the same time, but I knew they were entirely focused on containing Dialga and Palkia, at the moment. I just hoped that they—













The world holds its breath and stops moving.

A God crawls out of the firmament and roars, stretching across the sky. It is too much to look at, too much to even describe, for how could a person describe Time?

One cannot. It is everything they've ever known, and everything they would ever know.

But they can witness fragments of it.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Zeta, Rain, Jason H, Mads
 
Last edited:
Time and—
A/N: General trigger warning, this chapter gets dark and might be unpleasant to read.


TIME AND—

Time is an ever-expanding tree.

Not literally. There's a boundless blue light below my feet extending in every direction, but the eye-catching structures are the enormous pillars or trunks or towers that divided again and again, as far as the eye could see. This wasn't like Mesprit's mindscape. My body here was very real in a way that the other just wasn't, even if we ignore the fact that I can't hear out of my left ear and that my clothes aren't just a projection. I feel very alive in a way I just didn't in their mind. The way cold air fills my lungs and how my skin tingles. The subtle bits of pain throbbing in my legs from having walked for so many hours without rest. When I try to move, I realize I can. Slowly, at first. It takes a few seconds to realize I'm also walking on one of the pillars I can see in the distance. When I reach the edge, I realize I can peer down and see more branches below me, some having separated from mine. It's difficult to describe the scale of this place. I feel like what an atom must look like to the entire universe. So infinitely small that I might as well not even exist, and yet I do. I'm real. I can breathe, feel and think.

So I do think.

Why am I so calm about this? Maybe it's acceptance of everything being lost settling in. Maybe I'm too tired to panic or scream or beg Dialga to get me out of here. It's not like it would listen, anyway. I'd seen the deity for a fraction of a second, and in that moment I understood that there are forces at play here beyond my influencing. It had felt like a lifetime. When I blink, I can still see the imprint of Dialga in my mind. It doesn't have a body— or wait, it does— but it's also just so much more than that that trying to understand what I'd been looking at would just have me running in circles. There was a shape to it, but not really, and it had filled my entire gaze.

So here I stand, at the edge of what I assumed was the tip of a branch. The others looked similar to mine, swarming this entire world (which did not mean much, considering that I felt like if I could hover in the sky and tried to walk to another one, I would die of old age before I even got halfway there). Looking beyond the edge of my spire, I notice subtle shifts and movements that make me realize that everything here is moving. Moving up. Some pillars are above me, some are below, and some are at the same height or at least look to be, but all of them are moving up toward… well, it's not like there's anything particular about where we're going. Up? Could it even be described as up? We're all going somewhere, growing the branches, but up looks exactly like down.

I think I'm starting to understand.

I'm looking at timelines. They're infinite, and nothing can travel in between them except for Dialga, I assume. Or maybe it can just look at them, given that it's not supposed to go out into the world. The assumption settles into my stomach and makes my heart beat so fast that I think I'm going to have a heart attack. There's the panic, I think with clenched teeth. The sheer scale had been difficult to understand before, but now? It was utterly incomprehensible. There's many, and there's infinity. You can't fathom that, you just can't. I take a few steps back and trip on my butt. There are no tears, but there's a little terrified groan that jumps out of my mouth.

I want out of here. People aren't meant to look at this. They aren't meant to see the scaffolding onto which the universe has been built. Part of me just wants to roll up onto a ball, lay down and wait until the end of everything. It's not like I can do anything about this. I have my Pokeballs with me, but I don't want to subject Sweetheart or Buddy to this horrifying reality. And what would I do with them anyway? Everything is out of reach, and I'm out of my timeline— at the edge of everything. The boundary between my reality's time and everything else. I assume that Dialga's roar, if you could even call it that, had sent me here.

I look back toward the center of the tower I'm on. It probably goes further than I'd be able to travel, and I doubt I'd just be able to… what, reenter? How? The entire surface is just a smooth, metallic blue, or at least it feels and sounds like metal when walking on or touching it.

So.

What now?

I could breathe, somehow, and though gravity felt a smidge stronger than on Earth, I could walk around fine even if I was ascending at Arceus knows what speed. Or again, maybe we weren't going up, but…

Argh, I'm just going in circles.

Now that I understood these were timelines, the edge seemed terrifying to me and I didn't want to even look below me, lest I fall off and get lost in-between… time? I sigh and lay down, feeling the cold metal against the skin of my arms. There's nothing I can do but wait.

It's difficult to keep track of time, here, ironically enough. I can't tell how many hours pass, but I feel like I should be getting tired, growing hungry or wanting to go to the bathroom, but I don't. I feel perfectly fine, if a little cold. It's a different kind of cold than I'm used to. It's got nothing to do with temperature. It's just difficult to feel warm when you realize how small everything is. How even your entire universe is but a tiny fraction of infinity.

Hell, that's not even how math works. You can't even put infinity into a fraction.

When I turn to look beyond my platform again, I see some of the branches split off over and over, including mine at some point. It's somewhat turbulent, and I feel the floor shake beneath me when it does, but it's nowhere as violent as I believed a split in a timeline would be. I also notice that a few of the branches I'd noticed aren't there anymore. I see one collapse and die right in front of me— figuratively speaking. The distance, again, is further than is even describable. When I witness it, it is not an instantenous thing. It is a slow crumple that I can't hear, but it lasts nearly an hour (or at least I think so) before the entire branch has disappeared into nothingness as if it had never existed. More have begun since then, and a great die-off begins.

Then, it sinks.

I am witnessing the ending of worlds.

Uxie had warned Mira about this. That they could glimpse other timelines, peer into the future somehow, and see that in some universes, Cyrus wins and destroys everything.

Billions dead.

How does one even reconcile such loss? The number's so big that it doesn't even feel real. I try to imagine it in my head, but I just can't. I can't even feel sad about it. Maybe I'm misinterpreting this, somehow. Most of these die-offs are happening in timelines ahead of mine, so my stomach ties itself into knots and I lay down again until it passes. Ignoring these few mass tragedies is the best way I have of staying mentally sound. It's like when you watch a movie or read a book that says so many people died, but at that point, the number's just a number. A statistic.

Everything changes when another scream ripples across Time. This one, I see emerges from one of the collapsing timelines ahead of us, and the metallic tower shrinks as it starts rebuilding itself.

Somehow, even with these astronomical distances, I hear the sound instantly. I clasp the sides of my head, but that doesn't stop me from hearing that same roar. Calling it a roar almost feels diminutive. It's a sound that could maybe, maybe have been described as such, but it is also the unending march of time, paving over everything without a single look back. Gears forever in lock and step, turning onto eternity. It's the past, set in stone without any option to correct actions taken beforehand. How can Dialga's roar originate from all the way over there if it's in my world? Can it be in multiple places at the same time? I can see the sound stretch across unimaginable distances despite Dialga not being here itself. It's a vibration that spreads, spreads and spreads faster than anything I could imagine across distances that were so large they were stupid until—

Impact.

No. Not impact, but close to it. Three lines close to mine nearly graze each other, having moved back close together. We're all close enough now that I could realistically walk there over the course of days if I could fly, but they're all getting closer and I'm not sure if this proximity is even meant to be outside of timelines dividing—

My vision shatters into four, and I gain three more perspectives.



Let's take a step back, for a moment, and think back to Grace Pastel's journey. Full of highs, lows, and everything in between. Love, pain, agony, friendship, learning, growth, loss, trauma, fun— many words can be used and still be accurate. Change is what one could consider the most important denominator. After all, the sands of time change all, no matter how small the events in your life. She's not that same girl who would stay locked in her room all afternoon, watch battles and browse the forums. Innocent, clear of any scars, both mental and physical, with a Togepi egg she kept warm with a hug while she slept. We can look on and on, at every little change every action could have caused. For example, Grace refuses to go see her mother that day— her journey's delayed by a year, but she goes onto one anyway, and life and necessity will have it that Lucas, Dawn and Barry become Shards instead of her and her friends. Knowledge, Emotion and Willpower, respectively. Grace refuses to travel with Cecilia and her group in Eterna Forest— she and Denzel find another group to make it through, but Cecilia runs away in Eterna City because Louis grows to be too suffocating, Abel captures her, and she lives that entire year a puppet while Amy Saunier joins her group to monitor her. Not only that, but Grace goes to Hearthome right away, too early for her to cross paths with a prickly Turtonator, and she comes out of that cave with a Rolycoly and without a Larvitar.

On, and on, and on. There truly is no end to it. Time is, after all, infinite.

But,

There is a moment in time that we can observe. Arguably, the defining moment in Grace Pastel's life, the one that pushed her to become who she is now that could have gone a few different ways. It is, in retrospect, obvious. It is not the moment where Grace chooses to help Cecilia, nor is it the moment where she chooses to go on a journey. It is not her encounter and extended hand with Turtonator, or her fall into Mount Coronet to save the girl that she loves.

That moment,

It's Solaceon.

So again, I say:

Let's take a step back.



Sunshine incinerates Harry Rodriguez's Pelipper by blowing a Dragon Pulse inside of its mouth, and the teenager collapses to his knees with a disbelieving sob. The battle keeps going for a few seconds; Princess keeps her barrier up and launches tiny spikes of Ancient Power, Honey fires off Thunderbolts at the raging Crobat, who weaves in and out as it looks for an opening. Torterra was already a smoking husk on the ground, and Sunsine clashes with Crawdaunt. Weavile stands next to Harry as a bodyguard, et cetera et cetera.

You know this already. The fight isn't what's interesting here, it's what happens after that matters.

Harry Rodriguez is close to his Pokemon. Grace does not know this, but seeing Pelipper die this way had nearly broken him, back then.

Here, he breaks. Even through Shiftry's darkness, tears flow down his eyes and he gets on his knees with a horrifying scream that will stay with this Grace Pastel her entire life. It is one thing, for her to fight a man who she believes is evil incarnate and not just a misguided, slightly older teenager who the darkness is affecting just as much as her, and seeing him cry like this snaps her out of Shiftry's spell as well.

Then, she realizes what she's done.

She's caused the death of someone. Possibly two Pokemon, if that Torterra's dead. Grace breaks down and starts crying as well.

The battle is over, by now, and aside from Sunshine and Weavile who desire more bloodshed, every Pokemon has stopped and is wondering what to do.

"It doesn't have to be like this," Grace sobs. "We don't have to fight."

Harry Rodriguez hesitates. She can see him consider it in his eye when they flicker at Pelipper, then at her, then at every member of his team. Then he nods as he tricks Weavile and Crawdaunt and recalls them before they can attack him for stabbing their family in the back. It and Crawdaunt are not his Pokemon, they're the Hunters. Sunshine, too, has to be recalled. He sees red, and to him, any member of Team Galactic deserves no pity.

"I'll take you to the Hunters."

In that moment, everything changes, even if Grace Pastel doesn't exactly know it yet. It is, as was said, the defining moment in her life. It teaches her compassion, it teaches her that the people she hates can be saved, it teaches her the importance of conversation, and it teaches her that no one is a lost cause.

Most of all, it gives her a distaste for killing that she will never be able to shake off.

Harry Rodriguez takes her to the Hunters' mansion. As they travel through the dark, she asks him questions about why he joined Team Galactic. She learns about his struggles. He's a street rat from Jubilife who wanted to provide for his family by being a trainer, and they provided him with a Turtwig to raise, give him money and even help him with transportation. Good genes are something that can be beaten with hard work, but it's hard to deny the boost it gives a trainer. She learns that he's a person. He's just as much of a Craig Goodwill fan as Denzel is, and he has some of his merch. She learns that despite everything, he loves battling just as much as she does and by the time they make it to the mansion, they feel like acquaintances and are wondering the same thing.

Why had they tried to kill each other again?

It's not over, though. There are two people guarding the mansion, Reggie and Lane Hunter, the tour guides who had shown Grace around when she had gone to visit.

Of course, Harry and she make quick work of their Pokemon and tie them up using Angel's vines. With their combined forces, the battle isn't particularly close, even if their Pokemon are tired. The death match they'd shared had been enough for them to understand each others' capabilities, and they work rather well together.

You know what happens next. The conversation with Roland, his suicide, and Cynthia dealing with Shiftry. Harry Rodriguez gets arrested, but Grace makes sure to accentuate that he helped and will cooperate, so he deserves leniency. When Shiftry dies, and his void recedes, Grace experiences the guilt of killing at full force. She vomits over the wooden floorboards, Cynthia's shoes and her own legs.

"The first time is always the hardest," Cynthia tells her.

The first time? There would be no second time!

She had meant it when she had said it, but this time, it's real. Physical in a way that will define the rest of her life. Grace Pastel wipes the tears off her face and grinds her teeth, furious at the Champion for even suggesting what she had.

She vows never to kill again.



It all starts with that single vow, you see? This is still the same Grace— vengeful, prioritizing her friends and family above all else, her worse characteristics amplified by Princess' ambient energy, but a fairy is also stubborn and takes vows very seriously. She has seen how even the darkened hearts of men can be brought back under the sunlight, or at least she thinks she has, and that changes…

Well, it doesn't exactly change her outlook on life. This is somewhat similar to what Grace was like near the start of the year, willing to help those who harm and threaten her, but this part of her grows, grows and grows until it swallows her whole. When she sees her friends, terribly angry at the Hunters for having warped Justin, she feels a disconnect because while she's also angry, she wants to forgive so terribly, yet she's scared of calling them out and being alienated.

Alienated.

She understands, now. She needs to travel alone for a while.



When a certain Hatterene tracks her down in a certain forest and introduces herself, Grace Pastel is excited, at first. She wants to learn more about herself and what makes her tick. She wants to know the shape of herself, and for a little bit, she finds that. Unfortunately, The Keeper is a strange Pokemon whose morals or lessons she does not mesh with at all. Killing or harming someone who offends, instead of offering them a kind, guiding hand is anathema to who Grace wants to be, but she still appreciates the lessons imparted onto her and learns first-hand about the pleas of wild Pokemon. She never learns the fairy's name, and when she gets to Veilstone, she does so alone, quietly crossing the gate.

It's there, that she puts her new outlook on life in practice. She spends much time working odd jobs for free to help both people and wild Pokemon, which starts building up her reputation as a good Samaritan. A group of Machop wants to travel through Veilstone to relocate to route 210 due to there being so much human activity on 214. Yet, they are too weak to go around the city and off-route, so they have no choice. Grace Pastel asks Hatterene first to see if she would be willing to accept these new individuals into her territory, but does so immediately after the Keeper gives her permission. A seven-year-old child wants to catch her first Pokemon because she has no friends at school. That one, she brings to route 211 and over the course of a few days, she connects with a Seedot that she finally catches. A baby Stunky has lost her mother, who was caught by a passing trainer, so Grace takes her to the Rangers to try to track this person down in hopes of making them release the older Stunky.

That one, she fails.

But at least she tries, and she vows to check on Stunky every day until she leaves Veilstone, opting to train her to evade trainer capture.

Poketch loves this, and it fits what they want her to be, but she does it because it's fulfilling.

When she starts studying Veilstone's Gym, she sees the pain in Maylene's eyes, and again, her friends complain about the Gym Leader instead of noticing what she does. She's closer to speaking out, this time, but fear of going against the grain keeps her quiet. Instead, she takes matters into her own hands and signs up for the Gym before any plans have been made, because Maylene is this close to having a breakdown and no one is noticing or if they are, they aren't helping.

She loses that Gym Battle, and she knows Poketch are going to blow up her phone, but that's okay. A battle is a battle. She can always try again, and she's gotten good experience from it anyway. It makes actually speaking to her weird, though, because a Challenger doesn't usually speak to the Gym Leader after a loss aside from the 8th badge. They're supposed to figure out what went wrong on their own, at least in Sinnoh, so the crowd gasps and murmurs when Grace runs over to Maylene before she can go and take her short break.

"I see your pain," Grace says. "I want to help you before it's too late."

When it works, and Maylene starts tearing up at the fact that someone cares, Grace smiles and offers her a hug.

A friendship is formed.

Not everything goes perfectly, at the beginning. There are two main issues. First, Maylene is very stubborn and headstrong. Their first meeting takes place after her shift that day, and she still isn't convinced she has to take a break, nor does she accept therapy. Second, Cecilia grows prickly about this, and Grace understands. The public hug has the internet rumor mill spinning, but even beyond that, seeing someone you love do exactly what she did at the start of your very own relationship— reaching out to someone in need with more kindness than they'd ever been afforded— it was obvious that she was going to grow jealous. This is compounded by Cecilia's first-ever loss to Lauren Goodwill, and her fraying mental health has her lose her Gym Battle to Maylene, which again, makes everything worse.

It's a tough act to balance. Grace doesn't really know how to fix this and make everyone happy, especially when she still wants to help Maylene. At first, she opts for a meeting between the two girls, and Cecilia vehemently refuses at first until she grows so worried that she instead asks to sit in every single meeting between the two girls in case something was going on.

What she finds instead when she finally accepts and steps into Maylene's minimalist room, is Grace listening to Maylene vent and offering the best advice she can. There is no flirting, no unnecessary physical contact, and no signs that Grace has fallen out of love with her.

"Sorry, you must have been worried ever since I asked to travel alone," Grace says. "I didn't handle this well, I'll make it up to you."

All is forgiven, in that moment, but better communication is still in order. The two girls go on a date, and despite spending more time than necessary in Veilstone, they both end up getting their Gym Badge. Maylene invites them to a party to celebrate both their victory and the break she finally decides to take. Candice comes, but Grace also meets Gardenia for the first time, and she can barely articulate any words all night, with how out of her depth she feels. Meeting her idol like this is a dream come true, and she spends hours asking for advice until Gardenia decides to take her under her wing. The next day, she reconnects with her mother and grandmother and finally buries the hatchet between them.

It's all so perfect.

But their responsibilities are the same, and when Cynthia calls them to meet her and explains that they were somehow chosen, everything changes.



Grace Pastel is in Sunyshore, now. She's spent her time in the city mostly mediating disputes between clubs, but it's probably in this city that she's the happiest. She carries with her the weight of the world, yet it's Sunyshore that allows her to be a teenager for a few, precious weeks. She goes on dates, hangs out with her friends, celebrates her birthday, and Gardenia even takes a few days off to train her before her fight with Volkner, all while convincing him to let Electabuzz evolve into an Electivire if she wins, though she tells her that he was going to do it anyway and just didn't like to look like he was giving something away for free. Hell, even Maylene joins them, since she's finally on break for one month and she enjoys the group's company.

It's also in Sunyshore, that Sunshine tells her about Kamaile's life and death, after Grace narrowly beats Volkner. They cry together for a long while, nearly ten minutes, but there is a path that forms when the dragon asks her to kill Saturn.

She wants to say yes. She knows it would be easy to just make him an exception, and while it's difficult because she quite literally feels Sunshine's pain, she can't accept this. Grace tries to promise him they will send Saturn to jail, that he will pay for his actions, and that a lifetime spent atoning in prison would be better than a death he might not have cared about anyway.

That refusal forms an irreparable rift between them. Sunshine refuses to battle for her again and gives her the cold shoulder at every opportunity. Not only that, but he refuses to meet Mudsdale in Pastoria because he feels like he has failed him. Grace sobs, because she finally understands now that being kind to everyone will cost her. Yet, she doesn't change her mind for a single reason.

A vow is not a vow if it is just swept under the rug when it is inconvenient.

The remaining time spent in Sunyshore is more somber than she would have liked, but there are still obligations. She has a photo shoot for Poketch, an interview to talk about how much she's helped people in Veilstone and in Sunyshore, and how she's gotten close to so many Gym Leaders. Both Princess and Honey evolve, and she even gets a promotion, but it all rings somewhat empty.

She needs time to think on her own again, so she leaves Sunyshore alone on Princess' back after they learn how to fly and she gets her license.



The wrist of her dominant hand gets broken when she rests off-route. The Carnivine that did it is angry and full of pain, but they manage to defeat it with Sunshine's help, because although the dragon doesn't want to help Grace with sport, he still doesn't want her to die. When Grace hears of Carnivine's plea, she finds herself feeling like she had with Maylene. This was someone in need of help, and help was the only thing she's ever wanted to give, so she promises Carnivine that she will find her son, a Leafeon who had been kidnapped by someone who sounds dangerously like Abel. When her ACE Trainer Ariel lands next her after the battle and apologizes for not intervening sooner, Grace finds it in her heart to forgive her with some difficulty. If she had intervened, Carnivine never would have told her about her plea, and was her dream not to help people all over the world?

She promises Carnivine that she'll get Leafeon back.

While Solaceon is where everything changed for Grace, Pastoria is where everything comes to a head. Sunshine's lack of cooperation means that her hopes of winning her Gym Battle are near zero, even if she somehow catches a seventh Pokemon. There's no way she can hope to work as well with them as she can with the Pokemon she's known for months, and that's if their strength is up to par. When Melody learns about Sunshine being uncooperative, she's forced to report to Poketch, and Grace is demoted to a normal sponsee while Aubri takes over as Craig's successor. It's embarrassing and she gets a bit of egg on her face, but she doesn't really care for it, or much for badges at the moment, really. There's too much on her mind for her to be playing around. That doesn't mean she'll stop training or fall behind her friends, but it does mean that she has more free time than the others to investigate.

She tells her friends about Leafeon, and using her connections with Maylene, Candice, Gardenia and Volkner, Grace manages to get the attention of Crasher Wake without a battle, and a criminal like Abel being involved in the poacher issue catapults it to international news territory instead of a local issue as it had been before. Like Mira, she disagrees with telling Denzel about the possible end of the world, but Cecilia and Chase make a good case that keeping her closest friend in the dark would be risking their relationship when he inevitably did find out, so she's finally convinced. As usual, Grace decides to help anyone she can in the city, and finds herself volunteering for the UPAN, where she learns about Ethan and his stolen Tirtouga. She speaks to more and more victims of this poaching and vows to all of them to do something about it.

"Let me take all of your pain," she would say. "Tell me everything that troubles you, and I'll try my best to help."

She had shouldered all these burdens, so it was her job to deal with it personally. It is not until Maeve gets attacked and hurt by a poacher that they figure out where their base of operations is held. A philanthropist billionaire called Edward Backlot had been the culprit all along, something no one would have expected, with his reputation. Crasher Wake and Fantina join the ACE Trainers and League Trainers to participate in the raid which was kept top-secret in order not to let Backlot escape. It is confusing, it is sickening, it is horrifying, but she manages to keep her vow and doesn't kill anyone, be that Pokemon, humans or hostages.

Her friends?

Her friends kill. She sees it with her own two eyes, even. It's one thing to hear about it like she did with Chase talks about not having enough money to feed his team and having them kill the wildlife, or Cecilia at the end of the Darkest Day, and it's another to see a Zweilous blow someone's arm apart with a Dragon Pulse. She knows it was self-defense, she knows it is incredibly obtuse to expect them to be as perfect as she wants them to be, but she can't help herself. Pokemon are freed, the Game Corner is shut down, and Leafeon is found to be alive and well, but at the end of the day, she finds Cecilia to talk to her with her eyes downcast and says this:

"We can't be together anymore."



Ah, that wasn't expected, was it? One could think that this was a perfect timeline, one where every mistake had been paved over with virtue, forgiveness and kindness. It's certainly what our Grace thought before this moment, even if she'd seen the cracks form from that Grace's actions and her growing more and more demanding from her friends.

Here's the truth about virtue.

It is strict. Believing that all can be saved does not mean being friends with murderers and crooks. Of course, to Grace, this wasn't an easy choice. It breaks her heart, to end a relationship with someone she still loves, but she can't fathom dating a killer. Being friends with one was already stretching the limits of what she was willing to do, which was why she had been growing more estranged from Chase these past few weeks after hearing him speak of killing like it was breathing, but dating was something else entirely. That isn't the only relationship broken in the aftermath of the raid on Backlot's mansion. When Chase tells her what Mira's done to evolve her Gengar, she winces.

There is room for forgiveness in her heart, but there is no more room for that friendship. To torture for hours? That's too far for her. Cecilia is the first to leave Pastoria, followed by Chase who says he'll attempt to mend her broken heart. Mira's just gone one day, and no one has any idea of where she went, but the League tells them she went to see Fantina. Denzel's nascent relationship with Emilia and Pauline is broken, maybe beyond repair, and Maeve acts like a different person after her stay in the hospital.

The group is broken, and she's the one who caused that rift.

The tears don't stop. They just don't. Part of Grace believes that she'll always be crying on the inside from now on, but after she delivers Leafeon back to Carnivine and leaves flying atop Princess, she wipes her eyes and flies toward Lake Verity. With her, she carries a new Pokemon and her seventh. A Galarian Ponyta she had rescued from Backlot's mansion and bonded with as her seventh. She was a scared, skittish, and abused little thing that had looked to her for guidance as a fellow sister. Full of scars on her legs, scared of sudden movements, scared of humans, scared of glass and metal— scared of so much, yet so brave all the same.

She names her Shiver.

Here, as she touches the skies and looks at the countless stars above her, Grace strips herself of the last remaining doubts and impurities that had marred her thoughts reforges herself into someone else, and becomes The Virtuous.



Becoming someone who embodies virtue…

Well, it's difficult.

Grace sees many flaws in many people. She could see someone, have a single conversation with them, and see the darkness lurking behind their eyes. Even more so, now that she's met Mesprit and that she saw the world with her gift more often than not. In a way, seeing how much everyone was just drifting across the river that was life as best they could, from the ninety-year-old woman feeding the flock of Starly in a park, to the thirteen-year-old bully who had been kicking a newborn Rattata in a dark alley of Jubilife— they were all people. There's a word for this that she's discovered recently: sonder. The feeling of realization that every passerby on the street has a life just as complex and complicated as yours, for better or for worse. That everyone is the main character of their own story.

But she has nothing but time until Team Galactic makes their next move. She travels Sinnoh, listening and collecting each story until she can 'solve' it with her help. An unsolved tale would leave an irritated feeling underneath her skin, like an itch she couldn't scratch. She uses the time to train Ponyta and makes her open up to meeting new people, little by little. The psychic is still mentally fragile, yet she's been exposed to nothing but abuse her entire life, and meeting kind people all over the region has her realize that there's more to humans but pain and misery. Maylene, Justin, Gardenia, Candice and Denzel are the friends she remains the closest to, and Cecilia hasn't spoken to her since they broke up. Her final stop before the bombs is at the Lost Tower, where she has a conversation with Mathilda in an attempt to learn about Honey's parents and the Dusk, and she's let out after a few hours of being trapped.

What was the point of fighting when things could be solved with words?

The bombs go off one day after that, while she's in Solaceon visiting the remains of the Daycare and trying to learn more about the remainder of the Hunters. Being taken to a bunker with all of the others is awkward, but finally, in the hour of the highest importance, bonds are forged anew and they put their differences aside. Apologies are extended, hugs are shared and friendships are rebuilt. When Mesprit is captured, they're instantly Teleported to Lake Verity and is assigned Maylene as a bodyguard. They fail to recapture the guardians and are taken to Mount Coronet.

Six badges in hand, seven Pokemon with her, and now satisfied with who she had become, Grace Pastel begins her ascent up Coronet. A few of her ACEs are left behind, but Lou, Maxwell, Ariel and a few others remain with her and start following her instructions to the letter once she shows that she can navigate this mountain far better than they can. On the fifth layer, they're ambushed by Saturn and his grunts, but Grace Pastel creates a plan that has them save the majority of their lives.

It doesn't come easy, and the twenty deaths she's caused will haunt her for years to come, yet she cannot break down. Virtue does not cry when it fails, it tries to do better. When she's talking to Lou about the logistics of keeping so many people warm at the same time, the ACE desperately tries to convince her otherwise while her colleagues are off gathering them and Saturn around their fire types, who are still conscious. It is while gathering up the grunts, that Sunshine, wounded and ragged from his fight tells her that he thinks he's ready to see his old friends Mudsdale and Lurantis.

Permanently.

She had expected this. Since Sunyshore, they had never been the closest, and attempts to reconnect had all failed, but it hurts all the same. She accepts his request and thanks him for helping her this entire year regardless.

Besides her, a boy who must have been thirteen at most shivers and tries to crawl away from her. He's bleeding from his forehead, his eyes are cloudy and his teeth chatter, not out of cold, but fear. She sees it, seeping through his skin. The boy is so young, yet he believes that his place in the New World has been lost now that he's failed to stop her.

Grace crouches next to a grunt and outstretches a hand, and he replies by grabbing a rock and slashing at her face with it.

Kindness, virtue and trust cost her her right eye. Ponyta freezes next to her and evolves out of fear of losing a loved one while Lou restrains the grunt. Just as she's about to snap the boy's neck, Grace holds out a hand, bloodied from cradling her face, and yells.

"Do not kill him."

She hasn't been that angry… ever. She's surprised that a lot of that is directed at Lou rather than the grunt, but the girl is spared and her eye is bandaged. Maylene cries when she sees her a few minutes later, berating Lou for not having intervened faster, but Grace knows that the ACE has reached her limit after Teleporting so many times during the fight.

It's then that Grace notices the sparks of pink coming to life around her skin.

It's love. Passionate, deep and possibly Maylene's first time feeling this.

Grace looks at her and barely hides her pity.

She ignores it and continues her way up to Spear Pillar, but she will let Maylene down easy when everything is over. The Virtuous has found that relationships would only disappoint her, given how flawed everyone was compared to what she would demand. It's impossible for her to fall in love any longer, or at least not with anyone who isn't like her.

You know what happens next, though it's a little different here. It's Cecilia, Pauline, Emilia and Chase who deal with Mars and Denzel and Mira who deal with Jupiter, this time around. Both Mars and Jupiter manage to escape to Spear Pillar, but they're out of Pokemon and can't stop the group when they're all united and at the summit. Cynthia's still chanting, staring at the water, and the might of everyone has been brought to God's Throne to defeat Cyrus. All of the Commanders are captured and spared.

Yet it doesn't matter anyway. It's Grace, who fails to free Mesprit, this time, while Mira, Chase and Cecilia free their respective Guardians.

Dialga crawls out of the sky and screams—



So you see, now, how one tiny alteration and time can snowball and completely alter what a person is or represents. This is one example of many, but as chance will have it, there are only two more Grace can peer at due to Dialga's scream.

Let us look back to Solaceon again and get on with the next perspective.

Remember, there is no perfection in time.



Grace Pastel stands above Harry Rodriguez, her foot against the man's open wound on his leg, and she snarls so harshly that spit lands on his face. All of his Pokemon lie dead behind her, each in a delipidated state. Even Weavile's neck has been crushed under the weight of Angel's vines, and Crobat has been electrocuted beyond recognition.

Sweetheart is dead. Weavile had slashed open the baby Larvitar and cut her insides apart. All that remains is a fleshy, bleeding corpse that Grace cannot bear to look at, and she knows that once the darkness disappears, she'll broken inside and out by her daughter's death. Just over a week ago, Sweetheart had called her mom for the first time, and now she was gone.

She's won, but at what cost?

"What should I do with you?" she asks, flashing her teeth. He begs and wails, but she presses down on his wounded leg until his words turn into a horrible scream that is music to her ears and that she'll relish her entire life.

She doesn't tell the worm beneath her feet what he could have done to beat her. Instead, Grace tells him that if the information he tells her is useful, she'll leave him alive. Of course, she finds reasons to torture him regardless. Sometimes, she pretends she knows what he's saying isn't the truth, and others, she just stomps down on the hole in his leg because he takes too long to answer. The pleasure she feels is new and fresh, but most of all, she wants to give Harry Rodriguez the pain he deserves.

When he's done talking, he asks her if she can take her foot off his leg.

She smiles and watches the hope drain from his face.

"No, I don't think I will."

Harry Rodriguez is slow-cooked by Sunshine. His death is a slow, agonizing thing that she finds appropriate for her daughter's killer. Grace makes her way to the Hunters' mansion afterward. She kills Reggie and Lane in battle, kills Roland Hunter before he can even speak to her, and has her Pokemon try to break through to Shiftry's chambers. At this point even Honey is seeing red. His baby sister was taken away from him, and any self-doubts about violence had might have had, he has now shed. Had the dark type not been cowardly, she would have died right then and there. Grace wants so badly to kill Shiftry and wipe the Hunter family off the map. She thinks that if she inflicts enough pain on the people who hurt her, it won't hurt as badly when the darkness goes down.

Harry, Reggie, Lane, their Pokemon and Roland are all she gets before Cynthia and Aaron get there and deal with Shiftry. It's almost disappointingly quick. One stab of an aura-infused bone, and the old dark type crumbles. Grace clenches a fist as the darkness slowly bleeds away, thinking that he should have suffered more than this for taking her baby away from her.

The emotions hit her like a truck, and for nearly a week, she is inconsolable. The belt on her hip feels light without Sweetheart there when she goes outside, and the world is dark and dreary as if Shiftry never even left. Yet it is not a deep depression which takes a hold of her. It is imagination. Part of her wants to go out of the Center at night to hunt for some of the Hunters remaining on their property, but she doesn't. She can't.

Right?

No, she can't. That would be an actual crime and not self-defense like the last few murders. Still, it doesn't mean she can't daydream about it. Grace spends nearly a week looking at the warm ceiling light of her room in the Pokemon Center, thinking about all the ways she could hurt. Most of it is spent with her Pokemon so they can collectively grieve together, and she grows distant with her friends. They look at her and say sorry, but they can't understand, can they? None of them have lost anyone, and none of them are talking about helping her eventually get her revenge. They think she's done enough already. That it's been settled. That the debt had been repaid.

That is, she thinks, fucking laughable.

By the end of the week, and after Cynthia teaches Princess to restrain her ambient energy, they decide to bury Sweetheart's Pokeball next to the river running southeast of the city and then loop back up north, leaving her friends with a text message saying that she needs to travel alone and think about things— both about who she is and what she'll be doing from now on.

She still cries herself to sleep every night and hears Sweetheart call for her out of habit.

The road will be hard and long.



Sweetheart's death was the turning point, but what truly cements Grace into what she'd become is meeting the Keeper of the Sacred Woods. It happens after she'd fed a group of Pokemon taking refuge from the rain under an overhang. It's difficult for her to show kindness, but in her heart of hearts, she believes that Pokemon are simpler creatures than people. Yes, they can plan to harm, but it is the wickedness of Pokemon wielded by humans, who had taken her daughter away, not the wild. When Grace tells her about what has happened to her, Hatterene finally understands. She shares her values about making people pay, about retribution that no one should be able to get away from. A full day together, and she introduces herself to her as Bellatrix and allows her companion Nightstalker to reveal himself.

I will train you, sister, Bellatrix says. A few weeks with me, and I will teach your daughter all of the basics. After a pause, she crawls closer and smiles with teeth that shouldn't be able to fit in her mouth. Should you desire me to, I can also turn you into a fully-fledged sister.

Grace closes her eyes. "That second option, I'll have to think about."

Very well, the fae says, slightly disappointed. But trust me,

Bellatrix imbues her with these words:

A fairy always comes to collect.

She would be back at the Hunters' through hell or high water and finish what she had started.

She spends an entire month with Bellatrix, and by the time she exits, she does so with an army of Pokemon at her back and a new member of her family. A Hattena born of Bella's belief, still barely a few days old. Her mother had named her Theodora, and she was her parting gift to Grace, along with having… altered her slightly. Not enough to make her mindset incompatible with human society, but enough to know that she would never truly fit in again. The Rangers who stop her at Veilstone's gate, Grace indirectly threatens with the might of all the wild Pokemon at her back if they wouldn't let her pass. The situation is frozen for nearly ten minutes until Maylene Suzuki shows up and forces Grace to realize that her plight is untenable.

For that, she never forgives her.

Grace is arrested, of course— how couldn't she be? Her friends are all worried for her and wonder why she's been away for so long, Poketch quietly pushes her onto the side and Melody signals that they're ready to drop her for good, but Grace doesn't really care. It's revenge that consumes her very being. A desire bubbling right beneath her skin to put all who had wronged her in the dirt no matter how little the slight had been. Maylene, the Hunters, those Rangers, the police; had she not been so weak, she would have had them pay their debt back in full.

Of course, she begins studying Maylene as soon as she's out of jail, which is somehow barely a few days, and she sees weakness. Overworked, insecure, almost to the point of breaking, as if the world itself had presented this opportunity to her. Of course, people say that she's an annoying Gym Leader because she shuts down the ways of fighting she doesn't like, which she'd heard her friends complain about but that's not why Grace cares. She cares because Maylene got her arrested.

Theodora takes well to the team, though they're all extremely overprotective after Sweetheart's death. Sunshine tells her stories of an older sister she would never meet, Honey plays with her by throwing her up in the air or pretending he can't see her during hide and seek, Princess is that stingy but loving older sister that she trains with the most, Angel is the goofy uncle who's nothing but fun and Buddy is the strict grandfather who puts his shoe down when needed.

It hurts seeing them without Sweetheart here. A fairy never forgets.

She spends days training exactly to counter Maylene's tactics and nights watching videos of her battles. She rehearses lines she thinks will work the best and fights the battle over and over in her mind. This is all she does over the course of two weeks, and she's the last one of her friends to go against Maylene. Five-on-five with two switches.

It is a massacre.

Grace holds nothing back. There's no Poketch to be beholden to any longer, and she doesn't care about how the public will perceive her. Not anymore. Every Pokemon's pain is prolonged to hurt her, she responds to Maylene's outbursts with nothing but smiles and silence at first, but when the Gym Leader insults her first as she has planned, Grace begins trading barbs as well. She can tell that each one hurts Maylene so badly that the Gym Leader battles worse and worse until she ends up using aura as a desperate attempt to pull back.

As a finishing blow, she brings up how her father never would have insulted a challenger.

The score is 2-5 in Grace's favor by the end.

The entire internet is against her. She was too obvious with the way she prolonged fights to optimize her opponents' screams and pain. She had not expected it to be this one-sided against her, instead thinking that opinions would be more mixed, and what she's done has the opposite effect of what she'd wanted. It's not as if the entire trainer community starts supporting Maylene all at once, but there's a shift in the conversation that had obviously stemmed from her actions.

Again, Grace doesn't really care about what random people online say about her, not anymore. Nothing will ever be as painful as losing a loved one.

Losing loved ones.

That is where this path leads her, not because they die, but because they cannot recognize her anymore. It's Denzel, who's the first to call her out for her treatment of the Gym Leader, and then Cecilia follows through, along with Emilia, Mira, and even Pauline. Chase is the only one who remains in the fairy's camp, not because he supports her actions but because he doesn't care and thinks Maylene has it easy anyway and is too soft.

The walk to the Pokemon Center is filled with arguments. "You need to put out a statement apologizing," Denzel says. "I know you're hurt, but this isn't who you are," Cecilia says. "What's the point in taking all of your frustration on this random girl?" Pauline says. "I'm sorry this is the only way you have to deal with your pain," Louis says. "You're fucking crazy," Mira says, followed by a dozen protests about tact like Grace isn't standing right there— on, and on, and on until Grace lashes out a few streets away from their destination.

"What do you know about me?" she rages. "None of you know anything! None of you have ever lost anyone, so you can't understand. I see you all, from your fucking high horses. The way you've looked at me since Sweetheart died. You and your stupid intervention!" Finally. Finally, she can let it out. She's ruining things with them, but she feels good doing it. "I don't want your pity. I want—"

I want to hurt those who hurt me.

But she can't hold herself together.

Tears take hold of her before, and the group gathers around her with a warm hug.



That's nice, isn't it? In another world, perhaps, a world where she hadn't lost as much, this could have been the start of a healthier outlook on life. Bridges would have been permanently burned, of course. There was simply no way to rebuild the relationship with Maylene this time, and any hopes Grace might have had of getting to know Gym Leaders would have gone up in flames. At least, however, her current friends would remain.

This is not that world.

But you suspected this already, didn't you? It would, after all, look too similar to yours.

Sunyshore is spent with Grace feeling nothing but dread. Her friends walk on eggshells around her as if to not trigger her into flying into a rage again, and their relationship never feels the same as it had before Solaceon had taken everything from her. It is only Denzel and Cecilia, who are her rocks. The ones willing to look at her like a friend and who she thinks aren't talking about her behind her back. She sees the way everyone else looks at her while they think she isn't looking. Their heavy, judging gazes. They're all against her, they just have the guts to let her know. She's sure of it!

But when she tells Denzel about it, he keeps saying that she's just paranoid.

Grace tries her best to believe him, but she's starting to doubt even his words. Instead, she throws herself into planning for her fight with Volkner, thinking that a good old-fashioned Gym Battle will do her some good. She wishes she had the money to evolve Princess or the knowledge to get an Electivire, but it looks like she's going to have to do without those for the fight. While she plans, Denzel spends less and less time with her because of his tutelage under Craig, while Cecilia finds herself roped into training with Jasmine because Denzel recommended her.

If they'd known how bad the situation had really been, how strongly the pressure had been building up, they most likely would have made more time for her, but children will be children, even those who had gone through hell and back, and Grace was very good at pretending everything was okay and letting everything fester inside of her.

But it is not in Sunyshore, that things come to a head. The fight against Volkner is a nail-biter, only won through sheer dedication from Sunshine, and the fire type carries her across the finish line. Volkner doesn't bother hiding his contempt for Grace when he hands her his badge, and Grace can't help but meet his glare with one of her own. Never relent, never surrender, always escalate, because otherwise she would be weak, and weak girls are the ones who always get hurt.

For a moment, it looks like he's going to say something, yet he doesn't and just tells her to get out of his sight. She smirks and does so with her badge, TM, and money.

Her friends all perform better than her at the Gym Battle, which makes her a little miffed, but that's nothing compared to being summoned by Cynthia before having the world dropped on her head. She's special, the Champion tells her. Chosen by the Lake Guardians, whether that be through sheer luck or something else the League doesn't understand quite yet. So are Chase, Cecilia, and Denzel. The latter of which takes the longest to adapt to the news, but Grace is quite literally shining.

When Cynthia gives them favors in exchange for their service to the League, she asks for three things. A funny notion, to ask for more than a Champion has allocated to you, but she knows her position now. She's needed, and that means she has leverage. First, she asks to evolve her Electabuzz. Second, she asks for more money than that pittance they call the LTIP salary or a Shiny Stone directly and third—

Third, she asks to train under Cynthia for a week.

Oh, she does have a teacher like her friends do, just one that can only help her train Theodora and Princess, but her other teammates need just as much help. Cynthia works her jaw, mulls it over for nearly ten seconds, and Grace can tell the Champion doesn't like it. It's why she's put the 'one-week' time limit, to offer the pact in a way that would be easier to swallow.

In the end, the Champion accepts every offer, and Grace can barely contain her glee as she shakes from excitement. There are stipulations to this deal. The training would have to be secret and off-route, and the seven days would have to be spread out due to how busy Cynthia was.

The Shiny Stone and getting Honey to evolve? That one was something she could do before the hour was over.

"You know, I wanted Volkner to tell you about the evolution in the first place, but even knowing Team Galactic's plan, he wouldn't do it," Cynthia says, her black coat swaying back and forth with every step. "What you did to Maylene left quite a bad taste in every Gym Leader's mouth."

"What do they say about me?" Grace asks.

The Champion leads her to an elevator under the Sunyshore Gym, full of uncomfortable metal. She carries Theodora in her arms to build up her tolerance to the ore while Honey walks lock-in-step behind her with a serious look etched on his visage. He wasn't one for smiles, not after Sweetheart died. Whereas he would have been excited to evolve before, all he wants is more power to protect his family.

"They lament the fact that they have to rely on someone as unstable as you to save us." Cynthia shrugs as the elevator starts to go down.

"And what do you think?" Grace asks.

"That's up for you to decide, Grace."

The two evolutions go smoothly, and she leaves Sunyshore soon after with Denzel, Cecilia and Chase en route for Lake Valor.



When Cynthia leads her off-route for their fifth training session, Grace thinks nothing of it. This is routine to her, now. Theodora's evolved into a Hattrem, Honey's growing used to his new body and Princess is learning a lot from Cynthia's own Togekiss. While Grace's Pokemon don't come anywhere close to keeping up with Cynthia and they can't train by battling due to the fact that Cynthia's team has forgotten how to hold back to the point that wouldn't just kill her Pokemon, advice and experience from veteran Pokemon would go a long way.

It is when she leaves, that the entire situation changes.

Still exhausted from their training, Grace and her team get attacked by a Carnivine that brings the weight of millions of blades of grass on top of them. The fight is short and brutal, just as she's learned she likes, but her Pokemon are too tired to win and Carnivine grabs Grace by the throat and squeezes until Ariel descends on her Dragonite and knocks the grass type away with a Body Slam.

Grace heaves on the ground and grabs at her neck. It is bleeding. Countless cuts and bruises line the skin; so much so that she spits out blood when she finds her breath and voice again.

Yet Grace doesn't berate the ACE Trainer for letting her reach the brink of death. She does so for allowing her Pokemon to be hurt to such an extent. She gets flashes of Weavile tearing apart Sweetheart and it takes a magnanimous effort to chase away the tears that come with her anger. When she speaks again, her voice is coarse like sandpaper.

It never goes back to normal.

Just when Ariel asks Grace to get on Dragonite so she can be taken to a Pokemon Center, Carnivine whispers something, and with her voice, the grass shakes as one.

My son, she mourns.

Loss.

Grace knows how that feels.



Remember that pressure that was mentioned earlier, that build-up of urges Grace had so harshly buried so she could regain a semblance of her waning friendships?

Well, it has to come out at some point. She's just so angry all the time with nowhere to release those emotions. Again, while Solaceon put her on this path, Pastoria is where she will truly become something else.

After a five-day stay at the hospital, Grace sets up her challenge with Crasher Wake right away while she gets her friends up to speed with Carnivine's plea. Once they hear Abel might be involved, they're all on board, but Grace is slightly miffed that they're wondering why she would want to help a Pokemon who had nearly broken her neck by almost strangling her to death and permanently scarred her throat and voice. She'll even have to wear a neck brace for months.

They don't understand that at this point, it's less about helping and more about extinguishing any scumbag who thought they could take away peoples' loved ones for profit without the consequences of their actions coming back to bite them.

As fate will have it, their investigation takes longer this time.

This has been said a few times, but let's take another step back in the timeline. As luck— or misfortune, depending on your interpretation of these events— would have it, Denzel was a great friend. Nearly the best Grace could have asked for in this situation, really. He was far more understanding than a teenager ought to be, wasn't selfish, and always took on the pain and burdens of his friends if he could. Back in Solaceon, before Grace even killed Harry Rodriguez, it was Mira Compton who was the most adamant about investigating the Hunter family, and Grace can't help but put some of the blame on her for Sweetheart's death.

This is nonsensical. Grace was for investigating just as much as Mira was, though slightly more reserved due to the risks, but the death of a Pokemon can bring irrational thoughts to the forefront of a person's mind. This means that when Uxie has to decide which child to give his gift to, he passes Mira over and picks Denzel, blessing him with a Shard of Knowledge. The Shards being able to work together is of utmost importance, and the Godling can peer into a few futures to see that the friction between Grace and Mira would doom the world.

So,

Mira isn't the Shard of Knowledge, Abel never gets caught by her in Veilstone, yet Clarence is still eventually freed by League Forces after a few days and it forces him to flee down south. He's hired by Edward Backlot, and the situation is similar to what could be observed in the other timelines.

Yet since Mira isn't the Shard of Knowledge and isn't separated from her, Maeve is never driven enough to make a new friend and she doesn't get attacked by Zoey Miranda in the Safari Zone.

This means that the investigation lags behind. Even as Grace unleashes the most violent fighting style contemporary Sinnoh has ever seen onto Wake to release some anger and Theodora debuts in her first Gym Battle, they come up empty. Her Moonblast is dim and small, yet it represents her disgust at the world that had broken her trainer so and repulses anything it approaches instead of pulling in like Bellatrix's while it blasts them with Fairy Winds strong enough to be mistaken for Hurricanes.

The training with Cynthia means that the battle goes handily in Grace's favor, and Palafin is left a sack of broken bones by the end of it.

As fate will have it, Theodora is the Pokemon that was wounded the least, and she's out of the Pokemon Center before everyone else. While Grace is wandering around a park with her and singing songs while the fae sits on her head and acts as her hat, a dark-haired man, his Hypno and his Xatu appear in front of them.

Abel.

Hattrem are exceedingly rare in Sinnoh. Bellatrix is possibly the only wild one of that evolutionary line, and even then, trainers with the Pokemon are few and far between. Abel, who has not had to deal with the group through Mira capturing him for a few minutes, believes Grace to be a trainer he can just steal from to make his boss happy enough to take him back to Unova now that Clarence has been sent back.

The park has a few people, but none who can fight a professional thief for hire. Grace only has Hattrem with her, and her friends are nowhere nearby.

It goes by so quickly.

She's pushed back by the Xatu's weakened Confusion while Hypno grabs Theodora with the same move and brings her to them. Lou appears beside her with a Solrock and Lunatone while Ariel and Maxwell make themselves known, but Abel is an expert thief. In terms of brute strength, he would have lost, but Teleportation and the manipulation of the strings that make the world are about finesse. In less than three seconds, his psychics win the struggle and he vanishes with Theodora.

Her daughter is gone. Again.

This can't be happening.

This can't be happening.

This can't be happening.

And yet it was. As if the world itself, in a cruel twist of fate was taunting her, she had lost another daughter. The child Bellatrix, her friend, teacher and the person she considers her mother figure, had entrusted onto her.

And so,

While people around her are all making her way to her to help her up, calling the police or the Rangers, or fleeing out of fear that they would be next; while the worthless ACE Trainers who had once again failed her crowd around her, Grace curls up into a ball and rocks back and forth as she laughs.

The dam cracks and shatters.

She is broken.



Abel leaves traces of himself leading back to the poacher's hideout.

The ACEs notice this very quickly, and it's almost as if he leaves a psychic signature leading to Edward Backlot's mansion on purpose. It takes them a few days to track it down, and by now the rest of Grace's team is back from the Pokemon Center, each one as broken as she is, yet they don't cry.

Tears are for the weak who mourn before retribution has been achieved.

She watches Edward Backlot's bodyguards from the sky like bugs and an excited shiver runs down her spine when Lou gives the signal to attack and they bear down on these pathetic things like an enormous boot.

Grace holds nothing back. Each Pokemon or poacher she kills makes her fingers tingle, each scream she hears brings a smile to her lips, each person begging for their life, she pretends to spare just before having one of her Pokemon kill them. This fight, it makes her feel more alive than she ever has, and she unleashes all of the anger built up over the last few weeks into these murders. Her enemies are burned, fried, torn apart, dissected, imploded, cut to shreds; and when they die, she orders her Pokemon to make it as slow as physically possible without endangering themselves. There are a few times when she might have caused the deaths of a few hostages, but it's all in the name of justice, is it not? She leaves a trail of blood and guts in the hallways of the mansion, yet it's not this fodder that she wants.

It's Edward Backlot and Abel.

She finds the latter first, and engages in battle with him with Cecilia after he sacrifices his Hypno and Xatu to Teleport their worthless ACEs away. The fight is such a high for her that she laughs when Jellicent explodes his Zoroark from the inside right as she's about to claw her in the neck and explodes the dark type all over her face and clothes. Seeing the tides turn, Machamp tries to convince Abel to run away, but Electivire electrocutes the man's hand before he can release his Kecleon and he falls to the ground as he convulses and foams at the mouth.

Cecilia and Grace's Pokemon deals with Machamp, and it's Electivire that lands the final blow. A Cross Chop to the back of the fighting type's neck breaks it and renders him dead.

Needless to say, there's an axe in Grace's bag.

"Go up ahead, I'll have Angel tie him up and take him outside," Grace says, omitting the full truth. "We don't want his Malamar or his Klefki to pull some bullshit."

Cecilia hesitates. "Are you sure? It'd be best if we don't separate—"

"Just. Listen. To. Me," Grace says with a smile and a tilt of her head. Her raspy voice is still not something she's used to. "I'll be fine." Her fingers are itching to kill. Literally itching. She fears that if Cecilia doesn't leave in the next minute she'll start hacking at Abel with her right there. "Trust me."

Cecilia sighs. "If you're certain."

Relief floods her veins when Cecilia leaves, and Angel drags Abel into an adjacent room while Grace follows. She's almost surprised at how clean it is. When she looks at her hands covered in blood and chunks of flesh and the pristine ground, it's as if she doesn't belong in this world. Every step she takes leaves bloodied prints onto the wooden floor.

She doesn't kill Abel. Not yet.

She has to wait for him to get back to normal first. Honey had held back his Thundershock enough to just stun the Unovan, and he was getting his wits back, slowly but surely. It takes two minutes for him to move from groans to slurred words, and Grace decides she's had enough and she can't wait any longer. She lazily slimes at Abel and drags a finger from his forehead, the side of his face, and then his chin.

"Is Theodora in this mansion?"

Abel groans. "Theo— the Hattrem?"

Grace raises her axe, and he flinches. "Wait, wait wait! She is! Backlot's just keeping her in a cage where he keeps all of his other Pokemon— I can show you if you don't swing. Please."

Grace laughs.

There it is.

At the heart of every Man was fear, and she reveled in it almost as if she could smell it.

"Okay," Grace sighs and lowers her weapon. "Tell me where it is."

Abel untenses and allows himself to relax a tiny bit.

Cruelty is the point, so that is the moment she strikes.

She hurts, and she finds pleasure in it. She hurts and it makes her feel empowered. She hurts them all first so they can't hurt her in return. She cackles over his gurgling screams and keeps cutting, cutting and cutting until Abel is more flesh than skin, until his body is covered in lacerations and blood soaks every inch of her axe and clothes. It is here, covered in blood and viscera, that Grace Pastel sheds the last of her humanity and becomes The Beast.

When she realizes what she's done, it is too late. The body is too mangled to even pretend like she hadn't had her way with it. She contemplates hiding it, but knows it's not going to work. She is, after all, incapable of lying at all, so she has Angel grab the multiple parts of his body and brings him outside. Some of it, he has to scoop up.

Oh well, she thinks. It's not like any of this matters any longer.

With her new awakening comes a freedom that makes her feel like she has wings. People might look at her in horror when her Tangrowth lays the body in the yard? Who cares? Her friends are going to abandon her? It's not like they were even real in the first place. Cecilia is going to break up with her?

That…

That one, she cares about. Her and Denzel, really, but if they won't accept her for who she is, then she feels better ripping off the band-aid before they can lead her on any longer.

Unfortunately, Backlot is under League custody when she finds the man. He's willingly surrendered and revealed his house of horrors. Rows upon rows of Pokemon who look malnourished, beaten and terrified beyond compare. She passes by a Galarian Ponyta before her eyes settle on the enclosure Theodora is kept in. The fairy jumps up and down next to the glass until the viewing windows are opened and Grace grasps her into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I will never let you down like this again."

Did you kill those who harmed us? Hattrem speaks into her mind.

"Yes."

The sun sets outside, just as it sets on her life.



The night following the raid is… peculiar.

In all of the confusion of dealing with the wounded, both in Backlot's camp and the hostages, it takes a few hours for people to even notice Abel, and the body is too… disturbed for them to know it's him for little longer. Of course, Grace is already gone when they do, having flown off to tell Carnivine the bad news that Leafeon had died in the fighting rings of the VIP room in the Game Corner. They'd been too late. With her, Grace carries Backlot's closest associates to deliver to her. There is no need to go into detail about what is done to them. Some fates are too cruel to be described by words.

Just know that Abel's fate was gentle, in comparison.

Grace watches Carnivine 'mourn' with a tired, yet satisfied smile on her face, and by the end of it, the remains of these men and women are fed to the plants below.

"You know," Grace starts. "I'm sorry I couldn't get the man himself. He doesn't deserve to spend the rest of his life in jail. He deserves what these people got."

Carnivine hisses, her roots shaking in anger.

"I know," she agrees. "I know it's not enough. It's never enough, is it?"

The plant-like Pokemon levitates just a little higher, but stays quiet.

"I had a daughter, once," Grace blurts out. "A little Larvitar I adopted after she'd lost her mother in Mount Coronet to a Rhyperior." She sees the Carnivine's eyes and mouth widen. "I know how your loss feels, and how it'll continue to feel. Every day, I ask myself what she would have been like, had she been with me? How she would have changed, adapted, learned to read, to swim, to speak a little quieter…" She lets out a sad laugh. "And it never gets easier." Grace's shoulders slump. "It just doesn't. You just learn to live with that gaping feeling, like a hole in your heart you can never get rid of no matter how many people you kill."

The Beast outstretches a hand.

"But in that moment, when retribution fills your very being, it makes you feel like you're doing right by the people you lost. Come with me, Carnivine. You'll find like-minded people in my family, people who have felt loss just as you have," she declares as the wind sweeps past her. "And believe me, there are people in this world who must be rooted out before they take away anyone else from the people who love them. Help me."

Carnivine hesitates.

But Grace already knows her answer.

A pact is formed.



The next month is both important and unimportant.

First is the meeting with Mesprit. Grace makes a beeline for Verity as soon as Carnivine joins her team, and the Lake Guardian gushes over how they absolutely love what Grace has been doing. The Beast, for one, enjoys the God's company and finds solace in another entity liking her for who she is, but it is when Mesprit offers her her new powers that the situation suddenly changes.

The power to influence all she wanted through emotion.

Mesprit offers her to use it on her friends to get them back in a sing-song tone reminding Grace of a Primarina affecting sailors through their voice. Denzel would be immune, of course, but Chase and Cecilia are half a shard while the others are just people. She hesitates, really hesitates. The thought of getting everyone back and making them into proper friends is alluring, but in the end, she refuses. "It wouldn't be real," she says. "And the League might throw a fit anyway."

Already, she suspects that the ACEs following her might turn on her the moment Team Galactic is dealt with. After Pastoria, the League probably considered her too volatile to be left alive, and she was already in the process of planning her escape into Johto. The Conference didn't matter to her, not anymore, though she still wanted to test her mettle against Byron, if only to see if she was sharp enough to cut through his defenses. Battles for sport were a little childlike and boring compared to the real thing, and she was worse at it, but it would still be a valuable experience.

Once her meeting with Mesprit is done, she has to ask the League for a test subject, something which they vehemently refuse. Grace spends most of the time she has left traveling the region, often staying with Bellatrix to rest in between trips to cities like Veilstone, Solaceon or Hearthome. The Keeper, Mesprit and Nightstalker are the Beast's only friends who remain, and with them, she finally feels free. No longer does she have to pretend to be someone else, or a person they can project their pity onto. Grace hasn't spoken to any of her old friends since Pastoria, and she plans on keeping it that way until Galactic strikes.

One night, a member of the Hunter family disappears in Solaceon in the middle of the night. Then another, and another— one every night until the Beast could alter someone any way she wanted within a few hours at most. She knows the ACEs see her do this, but again, she has leverage until Team Galactic is dealt with, and that means the law can be bent.

Or broken, in this case.

The rest of the story… are the unimportant bits. I could tell you that Grace Pastel and her team grow into feral recluses who lash out at anything or anyone who looks at them wrong. I could tell you that she beat Byron by the skin of her teeth and obtained her eighth badge, that she goes to the Iron Islands and clashes with a man named Riley right after they both deal with Team Galactic grunts holed up there in search of some kind of Legendary due to him wanting to spare their lives and her wanting to kill them.

The battle is close, but she loses and escapes, which is all the more frustrating because she was trying to kill him and he was not. Just like Maylene, he's a damn aura-user, and a deep disdain grows for them within her.

But that doesn't really matter. She's already changed. Nothing else will move the needle in the other direction, by now. Something could have, before Grace had been burned over and over, but it was too late, now.

The bombs go off.

Grace isn't even taken to see the other Shards. It is ironic, how Denzel was chosen because of fears of friction in the group, yet here it is regardless— although they're at least able to work together. Had Mira been the Shard of Knowledge, The Beast would have thrown the whole world under the bus in order not to work with her.

When she finally sees everyone again at Lake Valor after Mesprit is captured, they can barely look at her in the face. Denzel looks sorry for her, but can't say anything. Chase eyes her with suspicion that comes with the territory of Grace exuding the aura of a Beast who had already figured out fifty ways to kill them as soon as she had stepped into the room, and not a human being, and while Cecilia says "I don't recognize you anymore," few words are exchanged between the two. When Grace peers at her emotions, she realizes that she's hurting, and she nearly scoffs.

They're the ones that abandoned her. None of them even tried contacting her after Pastoria, and she'd left because she saw the shape of them, now. Backstabbers, the lot of them. They pretend to care when what they really want is never to see her again. She was certain that if Louis, Justin, Mira and the others had known the world was ending and had been brought here, they'd be feeling the same way, too.

Eight badges in hand, seven Pokemon with her and now exceedingly happy with who she had become, Grace Pastel begins her ascent up Mount Coronet. All of Grace's ACEs disappear the moment she gets deep into the first layer. They were useless this entire time to her, and so she had sent them away. She makes her way up through violence and killing, because it has never failed her. Saturn and his ambush, she makes quick work of. She's a trained killer, by now. This is nothing she hasn't brainstormed with her family before, and when Saturn dies, he does so slowly, burning underneath Sunshine's foot.

Alone, she reaches Spear Pillar. She kills Charon as soon as she sees him, and realizes she's the first of the Shards to make it here. Mars shows herself, blocking the path between her and Cyrus, yet her Pokemon are hurt. Only Clefable, Ninetales and Wigglytuff remain.

Grace laughs when they battle.

This girl is, after all, the closest thing the Beast has ever had to a peer. Through battle, they understand each other, and when Mars thanks Grace for being her friend as she dies, Grace nods and hugs her.

We're reaching the end, now.

The death of these Commanders has the Shards get here in the next five minutes, and they make their way to Cyrus and Cynthia. Grace easily frees Mesprit while Chase and Cecilia manage to snag Azelf, but it is Denzel who fails to get Uxie back from Team Galactic's clutches. He carries with him too much regret at failing to save his friend, and it makes him unsure of himself.

Dialga crawls out of the sky and screams—



The Beast and the Virtuous. Two polar opposites borne from the result of a single battle, its effects having butterflied until the two Graces had turned into people who would despise one another. Our Grace, you could say, is the bridge between these two. The one who could understand the actions of both, even if she would disagree with nearly every single one both of these girls took after a certain point.

So, I hear you ask.

What else is left?

It is true that these three strike a good balance, but one must not get lost in the significance of stories and symbolism. Look back to Solaceon once more, and remember that there is a third possible result that could have turned Grace Pastel into someone else entirely.

For the last time, let us take a step back for a shorter story.



Grace Pastel kneels over Harry Rodriguez with tears, snot and spit streaming down her face. Technically, this can be qualified as a victory. Harry is injured and incapable of walking, while all of his Pokemon are dead and Weavile is safely tucked in its Pokeball. The truth of the matter is, this is no victory. Both Princess and Sweetheart are dead, having been killed by Crobat and Weavile respectively. Grace Pastel claws at the darkness in the floor, unable to control the emotions that break through Shiftry's dulling, and she lets out a long, uninterrupted scream that goes on until her throat bleeds and her voice is gone.

Before the darkness even goes down, her emotions break through the filter and she feels the full scale of her loss. Two children, gone forever. One whose neck had been torn apart by Crobat's venomous bite, and the other whose scales and flesh had been ripped to shreds. How can she recover after this— how can she live on after this?

The answer is that she cannot.

She lies on the ground and watches the darkened skies, her body devoid of energy to take her revenge or to go look for Shiftry in the Hunters' mansion. Her Pokemon mourn with her, standing like silent vigils over her body as her protectors. Some, like Honey and Angel, cry until their bodies run out of tears. Sunshine's gaze is downcast, but the pain in his eyes is a familiar thing. Buddy's eyes have shrunk to the size of tiny little dots and he makes himself small, dripping water on the ground like a sieve.

The transformation is quick, this time. It is here, surrounded by a feeling of loss so thick Grace Pastel could choke on it, that she is broken and never rebuilt, turning herself into The Anguished.

She doesn't know how much time passes, but at some point the darkness recedes, and she is out of tears to give. She has been wrung out and discarded; chewed out by the cruelty of the world and spit out, and she somehow has to pick up the pieces. It is another ten minutes or so until a League Trainer finds her and takes her and her Pokemon back to the Pokemon Center, where she lays catatonic for the next Arceus knows how many days. It hurts too much for words, too much to speak, too much to eat, shower, walk, or care about anything else. Her friends stay with her, yet she doesn't reciprocate when they try to talk to her. The world is just so dreary and grey, and she's simply out of love or care to give to these people.

On the tenth day, she speaks for the first time. On the thirteenth, she stops soiling herself and walks to the bathroom. On the fifteenth, she eats solid food, on the twentieth, she goes out of her room— she appears to progress to the outside, but inside, she is still shattered into a million pieces and no one is enough to build her back together. One month after the death of her two daughters, Grace abandons the Circuit, deciding to go back to Jubilife to stay with her father, and she breaks up with Cecilia. The fewer people she has to love, the fewer opportunities there are for her to be hurt. Her friends don't abandon the League Circuit for her, and how could they? They still have goals and aspirations of their own, but even then, they promise to visit as soon as they can.

What Grace wants is for time to pass in a blur, and for a while, it does. Wake up, eat, lay in bed, eat again and go to sleep at night. She has no energy for anything. Her father tries to get her to therapy, but she doesn't want to get out of bed. Her Pokemon go out to train on their own during the day, unwilling to get rusty should the need to protect Grace or each other arise again, yet she's not a part of that, and she doesn't want to be.

Unfortunately, the League comes knocking soon enough. Cynthia herself comes to visit her, just as she had after her experience with Mars in Floaroma, and drones on and on about a mental barrier too complex to be possible and the fact that she's chosen by a Legendary of some sort.

Chosen.

The words prickle at her ears. If she's so fucking special, then why had her ego, pride and obsession with revenge caused the death of her family? Every night, she cried herself to sleep imagining Princess' soft fur in her arms, or Sweetheart's silly antics. Sweetheart had called her mom for the first time barely a week before her death, and Grace had dragged her to her death because of fantasies of retribution.

"I don't want anything to do with this," Grace tells the Champion. Her voice is soft and quiet, as if she's scared of the word lashing out at her if she's too loud and it notices that she still exists. "Find… find someone else."

"I'm afraid I can't." A heavy breath escapes Cynthia's nose. "This is confidential," she says, knitting her hands together. "But I fear that the fate of the world rests on your shoulders. Yours, Cecilia, Chase and Mira's."

The fate of the world?

Give me a break, she thinks. This world isn't worth saving at all. There are people she cares about in it— her father, her Pokemon, and the love for her friends still linger within her like candlelight, but the world itself has done nothing but burn them. Sunshine had lost his first trainer through circumstances she didn't yet know, Honey had been abandoned by his parents, Buddy's mother had lashed out and tried to kill him upon evolving, Angel lived in a forest with nothing but death and misery fought for his life every single day, Cecilia's father wants to manipulate her into marrying Louis, and that's just scratching the surface of how ugly everything is.

On and on, everywhere you look, you can see the anguish that this world causes people to experience.

But maybe that's the point. To wield a singular blade against a force so large it might as well be incomprehensible, to scream and berate the world for hurting them and to fight against the darkness that lurks in every corner so the people she cares about who still remain can at least live on.

"Better an ugly world than a dead one…" she finally agrees.



Of course, she still doesn't go get badges, nor does she restart her journey. This Grace isn't about that. The Anguished is about putting one foot ahead of the other to keep steady; about keeping her head above the water so she doesn't drown. Badges and the Circuit is a thing of the past for her. Remains of a childish desire she had before everything had been ripped away from her.

But I did promise this one would be shorter, didn't I? And for good reason. There isn't much to this Grace's life, and it diverts entirely from the past two. For one, she's trained exclusively by her ACE Trainers in secret off-route near Jubilife, and sometimes, Cynthia. While she does text her old friends occasionally and keeps track of what they're up to, it's not until they start getting their flying licenses that she sees them again. She finally gets closure with Cecilia and they properly talk things about, opting to remain friends even if they're no longer dating. While we could go in-depth about how her conditions altered the relationships between her friends— we could get lost in the weeds of every timeline, should we want to, like how Abel successfully escapes to Unova using Backlot's private plane by masquerading Zoroark as himself and how the real one ends up being found tied up near Pastoria's League office with a long list and proof of his crimes— but this is about her, not them.

The rest of the year passes by in a blur. Honey is given the resources to evolve, and Cynthia's lessons get less and less frequent. Near the end, Sunshine finally tells her about Kamaile's life and death, and again, she is reminded of how cold-blooded life truly is. She is hesitant to promise him to get his revenge, as he is, due to the fact that this very mindset had gotten both Princess and Sweetheart killed, but she says that if they cross paths, if it comes to a fight, and if they win the battle, Saturn will not be spared. To her father, she reveals the nature of Cynthia's visit and tells that the world might end, with the League's permission, and he becomes her rock. One of the main reasons she still has to living, including her family, but also her biggest source of support.

When she feels ready, she's taken to Lake Verity to see Mesprit, who berates her and keeps telling her about how they regret their choice and that she might be worse than Denzel. She's too tired to deal with their bullshit, so she just smiles, nods along, and becomes a Shard. Grace opts to practice on the prisoner the League offers, then three more until she has a good grasp of how to use her powers, and although the deadline is rapidly approaching, she's too scared of loss to catch another Pokemon beyond the four she currently has, and again, when the bombs go off, she's first taken to a bunker with the others, followed by Valor when Mesprit is taken by Mars.

Four badges in hand, four Pokemon with her and just wanting to get this shit over with, Grace Pastel begins her ascent up Mount Coronet. Having spent half a year connecting with her ACE Trainers and having become some sort of a daughter-figure to them (even though they would never admit this), she manages to carry all of them to the top by making a grunt they had encountered loyal to her and only to her. They do not meet Saturn on the way up, but Jupiter, who claims she is interested in Grace's mindset after having lost so much.

They make quick work of her and the grunts she had gathered to take them down.

She's the last to make it to Spear Pillar, and when she does, Mars is revealed to already be dead, having lost a fight to Denzel, Cecilia and Chase. Saturn carries with him his full team at the summit, but the combined might of the Shards and the ACEs is enough to destroy him. Yet when Sunshine looks at him, squirming on the ground and preparing to die, he just walks past him without enacting his revenge.

Like her, he's just so tired.

Once more, they make it to Cyrus and Cynthia, and again it is Grace who fails to free Mesprit. The uppity God has always despised her, and she struggles to even want to bother to interact with the damn thing.

And so, I leave you with this:

Dialga crawls out of the sky and screams—



When I come to, I realize that there should be a word to describe pain a degree above migraine. My vision slowly melds into one again, and it's as if someone has driven an ice pick directly into my skull. The visions I witnessed were instantaneous, yet I remember everything I've seen. Different timelines— different me's that I was only allowed to witness on accident due to Dialga's scream. They'd had such tragic events in their lives that for a moment, I think I'm going to cry, but I can't bring myself to do so beyond a few tears. The fact that Sweetheart, Princess or both are dead doesn't feel real. It's like waking up after a nightmare. Crawling on the metallic floor, I push myself upright and blink to get my eyesight back to normal, but it's as if everything I've seen has been burned into my retinas. It takes a good while to parse through the blurriness of it all, but some time later, I manage to make out the three other pillars near me. I hear a groan—

I hear a groan?

That hadn't come from me. The sudden realization that I'm not alone 'sobers' me up and I realize that there are people lying on their respective spires.

They are me, and I am them.

One already stands, a continuous brand-like scar around her neck and clenches at her forehead. The other has a bandaged eye and is slowly getting back up on her feet, while the last just lays there, unmoving, though I can still see her chest rising and lowering with every breath. I recognize them very well.

The Beast is the first to speak. "Well." Her abnormal voice reminds me of Aubri's. She allows a short pause, and a haughty smirk reaches her lips. "Isn't this something?" Even though her tone is playful, it's impossible to mistake the darkness in her eyes, or her fingers twitching around her Pokeballs by reflex.

For a second, I'm too stunned to even comprehend how unlikely and mind-bending this all is. I try to think of the probabilities or to make sense of somehow being present amidst other Grace Pastels, but I quickly realize that this is an exercise in futility. There's no point trying to comprehend what's going on when a person was never meant to be here in the first place.

The Virtuous' one exposed eye blinks, and she glances at all of us one by one while The Anguished finally sits up with a heavy sigh, as if she's done with everything. Tears stream down her eyes, and she hugs her knees.

The Beast rolls her eyes. "Come on, Anguished. The first thing you do after witnessing this mind-fuckery is cry?"

Anguished. So they had learned of these names too? What was mine?

"Shut up," the crying girl says, quiet but not. "Three times, I've had to see what my daughters would have been like if they were alive. Three times." An estranged, pained moan ripples across her throat. "You don't understand how that feels."

The Beast's— or maybe just Beast's— eyes darken. "Don't act like I've had it good. I lost Sweetheart too, but instead of being a baby about it—"

"Can we all stop and figure out what the hell is happening?" I tried.

Beast laughs mockingly and puts her hands on her hips. "Oh, give me a break, Repentant. Virtuous, I never had any hope with after I saw her fraternizing with fucking Harry Rodriguez—"

The one-eyed girl scoffs. "Excuse me?"

"—But you?" She points an angry finger in my direction. If we'd been on the same platform, I'm sure she would have jabbed me with it. "You went soft. You know life isn't sunshine and rainbows like this girl over here," she nudges her head toward Virtuous, "but you're too much of a scaredy cat to take matters into your own hands. If I was you, I would have cut Saturn apart myself. Hell, you don't even use your gift that much! Even Virtuous isn't that stupid. What's the point of getting this power if you don't use it to protect the people you care about?"

"First of all, I want nothing to do with you, Beast," I answer with a half snarl. When she sees how angry I get, she stands just a little taller. "You're the furthest person I'd ever take advice from. At least Virtuous—"

"Don't lump me in with you, murderer," Virtuous laughs as she crosses her arms. "You two are cut of the same cloth. One is just a little more selective with her sins than the other."

That knocks the wind out of my sails. For a short moment, I struggle to articulate what I want to say. "Aren't you all about… forgiveness and understanding?"

She shrugs. "Exactly, and seeing myself capable of ever murdering as easily as I breathe makes me sick, because I understand it, and I see the shape of you. The quicker I get out of here, the quicker I can pretend that this never happened."

"Hey, 'the shape of you' is my thing," Beast growls.

Virtuous shakes her head. "Think again, wretch."

Anguished sniffles and lays back down on her platform. "Ugh. Just listening to this is tiring me out."

We all turn toward her. Beast sits down and lets her feet dangle off her timeline with an apologetic look, Virtuous scratches her arm uncomfortably and I bite the inside of my lip.

"Sorry," we all apologize in unison.

Virtuous isn't a surprise, but I'm astonished Beast even knows what that word means. I'm pretty sure I haven't actually heard her say it in all of the memories I'd seen.

The girl touches her scarred neck. "So. Dialga, huh. Think we're waiting for the world to end?"

"It depends. I have no idea how it'll react when only Mesprit is under Cyrus' control," Virtuous says. "Though I guess it's different for all of you. Uxie for you," she looks at Beast, "And Azelf for you," then at me.

"I'd like to say that everyone coming to an understanding would get us out of here," I say, sitting cross-legged. "But this is way above any of our paygrades. I've been in here for who knows how long already and nothing's happened other than timelines collapsing and Dialga saving some with a scream that caused all of this. I'm confused about why it's doing what it is. If it remains slightly under Cyrus' control, why would it start saving other timelines? And if it's not, well, does that mean we're just stuck here?"

"Arceus, you really do speak as much as it showed us," Anguished laments. "Who cares, anyway? It's out of our control."

Beast snickers at the verbal jab. "Oh, I like her! And she's right. Sometimes, you just have to let the cards fall where they may."

"I'd love it if you adopted that outlook on your actual life," Virtuous says. Her hands, I notice, are clenching nervously at the side of her clothes, as if seeing all of us makes her viscerally uncomfortable. "But I'm afraid you're correct."

"Look at that, Beast and Virtuous agreeing! Woo!" the mass murderer hollers, pumping a fist in the air. "Oh yeah, by the way, Beast? Really? There was nothing else for me? Titles and Names are important."

"We know that," I say.

"Um, no, you don't given that you screwed your opportunity with Bella," Beast complains. "You changed her so much, by the way. She's like a completely different person with you."

"I had no idea her name even was Bellatrix," Virtuous says under her breath.

My jaw clenches. "She's better, yes. And just because I didn't fuck up my entire mind doesn't mean I'm not a sister."

"Half-sister," she rectifies. Her fingers touch the ground below her. "And that's not what I meant and you know it."

"I like my name. The Virtuous," Grace boasts. "It encompasses me very well."

"Who even came up with these anyway?" Anguished asks, still lying against the ground.

"Ourselves, I think?" I look around to see if they'd protest, but no one does.

"I mean, we are the same person—" Beast grins when she sees Virtuous' nose wrinkle. "So we'd associate the same names to each other, I guess, except we didn't hear our own."

"Anguished… I might have picked Martyr, if I could," Anguished sighs.

For a good while, we talk about names. Speaking to oneself isn't as easy as a person would think. There's just so much friction, and we can't go two entire minutes without one of us jumping at the other's throat. I hate the way Beast literally thinks she's always correct, even when she demonstrably isn't, and how she takes no responsibility for the horrifying things she's done. I hate how the longer this goes on, the more Virtuous starts staring at me with pity instead of disgust, as if she feels sorry for me. As if she can just sweep all of my efforts to become a better person under the rug because it doesn't fit her definition of good. If there's one thing I agree with the others on, it's that she's had it too good to understand what everyone's been through.

None of her Pokemon are dead, her friendships aren't perfect, but they exist, and Justin's alive. Hell, she broke up with Cecilia for no reason!

And Anguished…

Well, no one can hate Anguished. Not even Beast pokes much fun at her despite being almost unable to stop herself when she senses weakness. She speaks the least, but when she does, we're all drawn into what she says like we've been hypnotized and seized by her depression.

The girls are curious and ask when their transformations took place. When Beast hears it's when she mangled Abel's corpse, she purses her lips and seems satisfied with herself. Virtuous, she calls soft for being broken by the mere strings of her friendships snapping because of her impossible standards, but the one-eyed Grace just huffs and says Beast doesn't deserve a response. Anguish just chuckles dryly and mutters an 'of course' under her breath.

"What about me?" I finally ask. "Though I can probably guess."

Virtuous wraps her palm around one of her Pokeballs. "The fight with that Melmetal, right after Lou dies." Right, that had been what I'd thought. My path hadn't been perfect since then, but I'd tried to improve things. "I'm surprised you still went with that childish idea of a Claydol and passed up on Shiver."

Beast cackles and throws her head back. "Fight is generous. Repentant talked that thing to death until it joined her."

"We made a pact."

"Pacts are forged through blood and pain," she shrugs. "Can't believe you got Lou ki—" I flinch, and she clears her throat. "I'm just saying, it'd be nice to get rid of her. It'd certainly make running away easier, if we get out of here."

"Arceus, how pathetic is it that you're so scared of getting hurt that you've put yourself into this corner," Virtuous scolds. "If the League wants you dead, you'll die. Period."

Anguished grunts. "It'd be funny if Garchomp just sliced your head off the moment you get back. It's what I'd do. At least I wouldn't have to hear you talk like you own the world; let me tell you, that's very obnoxious."

Beast places her hand on her chest in faux-betrayal. "I can't believe you'd say that to me!" Then, she returns to normal. "Please. Give me a break."

Virtue clips the ball back on her belt, having confirmed that the Pokemon release button doesn't work. "Don't listen to her, Anguished. Both of these girls aren't who you should be associating with."

"I don't like that you're telling me what to do."

"Take it as a piece of advice, then. You're the closest to—"

"Consider, maybe, that I don't want to be you." Her voice is louder than it's ever been, and Virtuous deflates. "I just want to get this over with so I can head back home with Dad."

"He'll just hold you back, you know?" Beast follows by raving about how squeamish Dad is, and that has us all ganging up on her until she explodes in anger. "I don't want to hear anything from the people who still talk with Mom!"

I protest, "Mom is—"

A… shake that spreads throughout the world interrupts my scathing rebuttal.

Anguished speaks up, "Look, we can stand here all day fighting and berate each other's choices, or we can realize that nothing anyone says here will change the minds of any of us. Our paths are too set in stone anyway." She finally sits up and looks at us in the eye. "Have you finally realized that this place has been starting to shake? I don't think the time dimension or whatever it is is supposed to have tremors like this."

"Well, what do you know," Beast huffs.

"It's not like we can do anything about it," I grumble.

Anguished facepalms and rubs her forehead. "This place is filled with idiots."

"I mean, Repentant's right—"

My head swings toward Beast. "Don't associate me with you."

Almost as if on cue, she begins to mock me. "Wah, wah, wah." Beast rubs her eyes and pretends to cry. "Look at me, I'm Repentant! An attention hog who cries about everything despite having it the second easiest out of all of us, wah— oh, I know that look. That one hurt."

"Fuck you."

"I'm not the one who started it. Every moment in here, you people have judged me. Even you." Beast glares at Anguished. "Even though I've tried being understanding because you people are me."

"You forgot how to be understanding long ago, you poor, miserable little girl," Virtuous solemnly says. "But Anguished's right."

"Okay, pirate," Beast says. Then, she doubles over and laughs at her own joke. "Sorry, sorry. Um, go ahead, Anguished."

"Do you think whatever happened here affected the population at large?" she worryingly asks, rasping her knuckles against the timeline below her. It was difficult to remember that what we were standing on was billions of years of history. "What if everyone's gotten a vision like us in our worlds?"

"Depends on how this place works, I guess. It'd be meaningless to try to understand it," I answer, nervously running a hand through my hair. "If I had to guess, only the people on Spear Pillar are seeing this. Maybe not Cyrus, since he has a guardian with him, but I wouldn't be surprised if Cecilia was seeing a similar scene…" When I realize that they're all staring at me, I look around in confusion and shake my head. "What?"

"Legendaries, you're so in love and happy that it's fucking disgusting," Anguished says. "But I guess you're right."

Right. All of these people had broken up with Cece for one reason or another. Our relationship feels so special to me, but I suppose it falls apart more times than not, and figuring that out makes my heart squeeze unpleasantly.

"It'd be cool for me if the League had to deal with all of that confusion so I can slip through the cracks," Beast hums, kicking her feet over the edge. Then, she pauses. "You know, that reminds me of that Garchomp cutting my head off thing. What the hell was Cynthia even doing back there?"

"In every timeline—" Another shake sent a shiver down my spine. It had been accompanied by a noise, this time. "You girls hear that?"

Virtuous nods. "Feels like a story coming to an end."

"You going all in on this story thing despite not being family or even friends with Bella feels like cultural appropriation," Beast says. She cranes her neck and the smirk is wiped off her face when she sees… what we all see.

Darkness, spreading across Time. It's a velvet cloak of a starless night, accompanied by a strange whistling sound whose pitch I seem to forget every time I even stopped paying attention. Red light pulsated like veins across the shadows, which were spreading instantly, yet were not. It was impossible to properly explain, like I could see it in both the future and the past. Nothing else here had behaved this way, even when it hadn't belonged.

"Huh," Anguished nonchalantly speaks up. Her voice feels distorted. "I guess this is it."

"What do you mean, this is it?" I ask.

"The world's ending."

"There's no— only Dialga was summoned!" I protest, fists clenching.

"Okay, smarty-pants. You'd think that the literal architect of time would be enough to end the world regardless without Palkia to fuck up space," Anguished says. "It's better to have no expectations anyway. That way nothing can disappoint you."

Legendaries, she's just like Cecilia.

"Can't be disappointed if you're dead…" Beast sighs.

"I can't believe we spent all of our time fighting," Virtuous follows up with a heavy sigh of her own. "You'd think that meeting yourself would be more exciting than this. Instead, it's just… disappointing."

"Ditto," Beast agrees.

Virtuous rolls her eye. "For your information, you're actually just 90% of the reason why. Repentant, it was eye-opening meeting you. Anguished, I hope you get the help that you need—"

There's another scream that I want to forget, and we all clench our heads in unison. The shadows, which both are here and aren't, envelop everything and spread like a cancer everywhere, and there's another roar I recognize— Dialga's. The cold, passing of time meets the boundless shadow and the two entities meet across the endless space.

What happens next is…

Weird. I don't exactly understand what I'm seeing.

I hesitate to describe it as a fight. There are no discernable moves or energy beams thrown around. The conflict is not one of claws or fangs, of two Pokemon aiming to target bodies, or even blasts of concentrated energy, but rather an unfathomable clash of two forces beyond anything I'd ever seen, and I want to understand that. It's just that these look like two endless tides crashing against each other. The constant push and pull of two concepts swirling around one another like a never-ending dance.

Despite the… center of the fight—

No, it couldn't be described as a center. It didn't have a center.

Despite the main point where the impacts were happening being unfathomably far away, each blow, if we could call them that, had effects on me that were not painful, but deeply uncomfortable. With one, my vision shatters and I see the past. Memories of my mother cradling me in her arms, of my first day at school, the day when I got Princess' egg, again and again. With another, my body twists until it should be spaghettified, but it returns to normal soon afterward and there's no pain at all, or maybe I just forget it entirely, just like what the second entity sounds like. I struggle to understand the point of the 'fight', too. I have no idea what this second thing is or how it got here, but if Dialga was fixing timelines, I'm inclined to root for Time and not whatever this darkness was.

I don't know how long I'm transfixed on this tug of war, but the next time I look around, all of my counterparts are gone. Their timelines have returned to their proper location, as has mine, and they're too far for me to even see them. It'd be like trying to notice a microbe on the moon, which fit because those weren't supposed to be on there. I don't exactly know what lesson to take from this besides the fact that I'm proud of the path I took, but—

Ah, I see it now. The shadows are pushing back against the… it's not a color, exactly. More like Time given form, if that makes any sense.

It doesn't, really. There's no real shape or substance to it, and I can't describe what I'm looking at, but it's losing ever so slightly. I'm both surprised and relieved that this is having no effect on the timelines around us. I can't exactly be sure, but I feel like a great deal of care is being put to avoid irreparable damage, or I at least want to believe it.

Unfortunately, I don't even know what it is, so I'm left hoping for the best.

Eventually, Time is not defeated, for one cannot drive out a concept, but it is contained, and shadows swallow me whole.



When I open my eyes—

When I opened my eyes, I was back on Spear Pillar and Dialga was gone. It seemed like everyone but Cyrus and Cynthia had just come to. The Champion's breaths were strained, she was soaked in sweat and her skin was pale, but she'd been in the midst of talking as soon as I'd come to. I couldn't hear what she was saying, or what anyone else was saying for one obvious reason.

The sky had ripped apart like fragile cloth, like a massive wound in the sky above Coronet that must have been visible from nearly the entire region. Instead of blood seeping out of the tear in reality, it was continuous shadows pulsating with red light that warped everything they touched, just as I'd witnessed where I'd just been. Light itself bent around the darkness as if I was looking directly into a black hole. I raised a hand at the rift and saw my hand twist and contort due to my eyes being unable to properly process the information they were getting. It was just so loud, too. A continuous scream-tear-shattering thing that I was glad I only had one functioning ear to hear. A massive worm-like thing crawled out of the rift in the sky, and for a moment, I felt like a fish looking at a hand plunge into a lake I'd lived in my entire life without seeing a human before this moment, realizing that there was an entire other world right outside my reach. Even Spear Pillar deformed slightly at the thing's presence. Next to me, Maylene had collapsed on her knees and was crying. Mira and I were simply frozen in place, as if not moving would spare our lives, while Cecilia was staring directly into the abyss.

Cyrus' eyes were wide, as if he had no idea what he was looking at, and for what I assumed was the first time, he was emotive. The surprise on his face couldn't have been more obvious than this.

Wings the size of a city swallowed us whole, and everything went quiet.

A/N: Three things! First, for those who care, Shiver/Galarian Rapidash's Moonblast has a fear-inducing effect that makes its opponent freeze up or flee. Second, though I've wanted to write something like this since chapter one after seeing something very similar done with Practical Guide to Evil, this chapter was very experimental, as you can tell, and I tried toying with a different kind of narration. Third, Grace's interpretation of the Time dimension and Dialga's and Giratina's actions are only mildly correct or sometimes flatly wrong.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Zeta, Rain, Jason H, Mads
 
Last edited:
Distortion
A/N: General trigger warning, this chapter gets somewhat dark and some scenes might be unpleasant to read.

DISTORTION


My eyes sluggishly fluttered open, and I realized I hadn't died. The enormous, flying worm had brought its inky black wings bearing down on us in a way that should have crushed me under its massive weight, and yet I was breathing. Conscious. Still unmoving, I slowly clenched a fist, digging my fingers into my palms that I could barely even feel. A flash of darkened red thunder boomed overhead, causing me to whirl my head toward the sky, but I only found more ground. I was somewhere… different. No longer did I stand atop Spear Pillar, but somewhere where the ground had turned to hard, reddish stone with countless bumps and little holes littering the surface, devoid of any vegetation. The tone of the colors here was wrong. Everything was faded in a way that made the world look like it was withering, yet it was not. My feet shifted tentatively on the ground, and it pulsated, revealing crimson veins throbbing below the stones that seemed to bend the material to make space for themselves. With every movement, the ground shifted in turn like a heartbeat. Like it was alive, in a very uncomfortable way.

"Where am I—"

My voice came out distorted and constantly shifted in pitch. During the Darkest Day, Shiftry's neutrality had turned everyone's voice to the same, monotone pitch, but there was no order to it here. Sound bent and twisted, and carried as if I was underwater. My skin felt like I was underwater, too, or maybe covered in some heavier material like oil or ink. The air here was thick and it made moving around slow. I rubbed the side of my arm, hoping to make the gross feeling of ink covering my skin go away, but it refused to budge.

Calling where I'd been standing the ground had been disingenuous. It was a floor, walls and a ceiling all in one, slowly curving in on itself as if gravity had no meaning. There was a pond on the ceiling— or I supposed 'ceiling' here was inaccurate, but it made things easier to fathom— that made me feel like I was about to fall up for a second. It wasn't even dripping back 'down' like it should have. Glancing to the side, toward the end of the curved island, was an endless stretch of a sky so dark blue it almost appeared purple with countless, darkened clouds from which red lightning continuously boomed. If I looked long enough, I could see faces in the clouds, like a child finding shapes in the sky. Smiling, horrified, pained, and everything in between.

More islands floated in that void as far as the eye could see, some barren, some sporting mountains and hills, ravines and rivers— even forests full of trees that grew in impossible spirals, their bark a sickly green pulsating with the same red that permeated everywhere here if you looked close enough. There were even a few near the small pond above me, where I could see their leaves in detail. Calling those leaves was generous, considering they looked like a tuft of human hair, or maybe fur that stood on end. Black close to the bark, and a darker brown at their edges.

Wind constantly swept across my skin that was nearly silent. A whisper carrying unintelligible voices that made my skin crawl, muffling even my thoughts. I'd heard this exact sound before— Barry Lane's Ominous Wind during our battle in Pastoria, but less focused, as if the tiny crack his Staraptor had opened had forced all of this out into our world like pressurized wind. If I squinted, I could see smaller dark clouds, gathered in-between my crescent moon shaped island, from which I could hear muffled screams. Those same voices the wind carried.

Was I in…

No. No, that couldn't be possible. It just wasn't.

The shape of this place gave me the exact sense of smallness Dialga's dimension had. As if it was an entire other world that would go on forever if I could travel through it. With that realization came the uncomfortable itch under my skin and a familiar weakness in my legs that would have left me frozen here forever, had I allowed it to take control, but I couldn't stay here and do nothing.

Cecilia and the others weren't anywhere on this… 'island'. I could tell, because since it was curved, I was able to see every nook and cranny of its surface. It was relatively flat and besides the lake surrounded by a few of those creepy trees, it was featureless.

"I can't catch a break," I sighed, on the verge of tears. I crouched and hugged my knees tightly.

I was so, very tired. It felt like I'd been fighting a lifetime, but it had been less than a week since the bombs had even exploded, and that was only from my perspective. I took a weary step that sent the rocky ground below into a fit, but aside from the uncomfortable sound, it was bearable.

Uncomfortable. I was finding that adjective to be a perfect descriptor for this place. Even when I'd been witnessing time, I hadn't been this on edge. IT wasn't a sharpened knife held against my neck that would have me feeling like every breath against the blade could be my last, but something far more insidious. It was a shadow lurking in every corner. A never-ending stream of paranoia that gripped my very being and had me on the verge of a mental breakdown. It was like being on edge all the time, constant dread that bore its full weight atop your shoulders, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being observed. Eyes lurking behind every rock, every edge, every tree, I could SEE. My heartbeat was so loud I could feel the blood pump in my ears and down my legs, cold sweat clung to my skin, which was hyper-aware about every single touch— my hand gripped my shirt where my heart was and squeezed, but it wouldn't stop. This place was mad. Mad. It was like everything that shouldn't be was here and it was making my head spin. The way the hair on the trees flitted in the wind, swaying back and forth. The strange, red tint the water had, so faint you'd miss it ALL nine times out of ten. The way things seemed to change positions when you didn't look at them for long enough—

A groan laden with pain emerged from my closed-off throat, and I slumped to the ground as a flash of red, nowhere as bright as it should have been, appeared to my right. There was an awkward pain shooting up my hip as my Pokeballs dug into the skin, but it was my mind, that was in disarray. Something here was watching me, and I had no idea if— if it was that thing that had crawled out of that wound in the sky or something else, but its sight was unbearable to the point that a little voice in the back of my head considered jumping off the edge of my island to free myself from this sight.

A little blob of metal crawled toward my head. Mimi's eye frayed with panic when they saw that I wasn't just lying down, but actually suffering. Seeing their eye wobble and bounce around their golden gear shook me out of what must have been a panic attack, and I remembered. I had people I cared about here. Cecilia, Mira, Maylene— if I was doing this bad, then what was happening to them? If Cecilia had been on the verge of a mental breakdown before, then she was in so much more danger now. Hell, Maylene didn't even have her Pokemon to keep her grounded like I did!

"Shit…" I said, standing upright and blinking away the tears. I hated the feeling of the ground pulsating against my hand, and it sent goosebumps up my arms. When two arm-like blobs protruded from Mimi and shook my leg, I bit my lip. The pain would center me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to release you." As soon as I grabbed their Pokeball, the spikes burst from the steel type's body and they puffed up as large as they could, which wasn't very much. "You don't want back in the ball?"

Meltan mewled a long, annoyed note that reminded me of something sharp scraping against metal. They hadn't seen me this close to breaking down since they'd first met me, even, and the want to support me superseded how terrified they were of this place, even if they acted like they weren't. It was difficult to miss the constant rippling across their metallic body or how they could barely maintain their solid form.

"I… we might get attacked? I have no idea what this place even is," I muttered, scooping Mimi up in my hands. "But if you really want to keep me company while the others rest in the balls, I really appreciate it. That's very brave of you, Mimi." I slowly rose to my feet again, opting not to scan my surroundings. The less I focused on this place, the better. "To be honest, I have no idea if I can make it without you, but let me know if it overwhelms, okay?"

Mimi chimed, easily dissolving into liquid and crawling up my sleeve until they reformed on my shoulder and clung to a patch of my tangled, dirty hair for support, both physical and emotional.

"Okay, we have to… yeah, we have to figure out a way out of here somehow." Something told me that just waiting wouldn't work here, or maybe it was just the dire need to keep on the move, just in case I managed to hide from the constant gaze bearing down on me like the sun. "I guess I'll tell you about everything you missed since Saturn to keep my mind off of all of this while we walk."

Near the lake was the edge of our island, where another lay close by and I figured I'd get a better view of this place (though I would have to mentally prepare myself for it). Putting one foot in front of the other was hard, like I had to learn how to walk again. Every movement frayed more than it should have, my legs teetered like they were about to fold. This was what I imagined being drunk must have been like, and combined with the nonsensical gravity of this place, I was getting nauseous pretty quickly. Still, I distracted myself by telling Mimi everything we'd been through, including my failures. Back when I'd fought Saturn, I had believed that keeping the grunts— the victims of Galactic's cult— alive was impossible due to Regice, but Virtuous had figured it out anyway. Granted, she had her ACEs with her and I didn't. Still, though Meltan was somewhat miffed, they were glad that I hadn't let myself be consumed by violence, be it for Saturn or Mars.

"When we made it to Spear Pillar, I… saw something. It feels like a dream now, but I saw different versions of myself, all diverging from Solaceon. That was when I got into my first real fight with another person, and the first time I killed," I mumbled.

We were getting closer to the lake, now. Out of fear that we could get attacked by some water type, I blinked, checking the place with my empathy— my knees buckled and my head nearly exploded with pain and sorrow. The intangible whispers which had been impossible to understand suddenly took shape and coalesced into more voices than I could count. More than Spiritomb, more than Dusknoir when he opened that torturous maw on his stomach…

It grows in him. A disease that leaves him only a few weeks to live and has cut his ambitions short. His parents are in too much pain to come visit him any more and all he has for company is the sound of his heart rate monitor.

She foams at the mouth and convulses from the electric shock. A Raichu and a tall man loom over her. All she's ever wanted to do was free her people from the boots pressing down their neck, but she has failed.

The mind of a boy, always second place and never first. He is a guiding spirit, yet he yearns for a position he will never have because he is dead.
Every time, he's come just short of everything he's ever wanted.

They're not real.
I focus on Mimi's screeches and the taste of metal filling my mouth. They were echoes. Remains of what had once been, but the people themselves weren't suffering. Wiping the drool off of my chin, I managed to refocus my vision and realized I was leaning against one of the trees and I'd somehow stumbled back a few hundred feet without realizing. The bark itself was slimy and sticky, and I wiped the substance on my pants as I heaved and caught every breath like it'd be my last. Mimi warbled in my ear, probably asking if I was okay.

"I'm sorry. I… won't do that again," I grunted.

Tired.

The steel type glanced at the rusty-looking water and their hand turned to a sword-looking appendage. I sobbed a little and had to shake my head to center myself and remember that none of that loss had happened to me.

I heaved and wiped the seemingly endless sweat off my brow. "There's probably nothing in there… I think. I just wanted to make sure, but there are too many… things here to distinguish individuals."

This was like I was in Jubilife for the first time after getting my powers all over again, except each emotion was so much louder and depressing that focusing on a single spot was impossible. I had noticed that those little clouds above me were the general direction from which these negative emotions were the largest. They weren't clouds made of water vapor, then, but nodes of concentrated anguish where spirits gathered into one bundle of negativity. Some of them in the distance were massive, but then again, there were a lot of dead people and Pokemon.

From the context I'd gathered speaking to Mathilda, there was no more doubt about it. This was the Dusk, which meant that that horrifying thing which had dragged us in here and fought Dialga was the embodiment of Distortion, the being which ruled this entire realm. Distortion was so much more than I thought it could be. It was, in truth, an all-encompassing aberration that affected every aspect of existence, from visuals, to emotions, to gravity itself— it all combined into a terrible cocktail of distilled discomfort that could drive a person crazy if they paid too much attention to it. What seemed like a short path could elongate into an endless journey, while distant objects could suddenly loom right before your eyes…

Case in point, I was supposed to have made it to the lake, by now, but the way there stretched on and on far longer than it should have, like those dreams where a hallway was constantly elongating and you never made it through the door. When I did, I looked back 'up' at where I'd been, which had previously been down, and what should have taken a mere two minutes had instead taken nearly ten. I scratched my neck and adjusted my collar. It wasn't tight, but it felt like it was, anyway, and that was ignoring the fact that I'd been moved when panicking about those spirits.

The water was eerily calm, but I ignored it and made my way near the edge while Mimi whispered warnings in my ear. "Thanks, but you don't have to worry, I won't… yeah, I'll be okay. I've got to get my friends back. I gotta." The little blob of metal slid down my back and leg until they became a golden bracelet around my ankle, then a solid block of steel keeping my leg anchored to the ground. "Okay, that works too."

I needed to stop coddling them. They weren't a fighter, but that didn't mean they were useless. I had approached the brink cautiously, terrified of what I'd be about to see, but having them with me was doing wonders for my mental state. Being alone in here…

Legendaries, I hoped the others were okay.

I peered over the edge of the abyss.
The island's edge did not drop away into any
familiar void. Instead, it seemed to bleed into
the surrounding darkness, as if the land itself
was dissolving into the inky emptiness around
The boundary between the solid ground
and the abyss was indistinct, shifting with a
disconcerting fluidity. My eyes struggled to
focus, to make sense of the ever-shifting
landscape to see if there was anywhere I could
LEAP to. The space below was an endless
maelstrom of darkened clouds and floating
debris, from islands the size of cities home to
forests with the exact same trees to small asteroids
orbiting around nothing. Some of these places
appeared distorted due to the light bending wrong,
and it was difficult to judge distances once things
got too far. There was a smaller, barren island
below us that I believed to be within JUMPING
distance. I could JUMP there… probably? I
wasn't the fittest, not after spending so much of
my time with my ankle in a cast and getting carried
everywhere, but there wasn't really another way,
was there? I had to JUMP, didn't I? There was no
other choice but to fall, no other way to move forward.
After that island, a path presented itself, suspended
in mid air and twisting around like a coil, so I'd be
able to move easier, at least. So I FALL

Something weighed both of my legs down, and instead of the grand leap I'd expected, I stayed stuck near the edge. My feet stopped struggling against Mimi, who had anchored themselves to the ground by burying themselves into the cracks and staying there, though the metal bled into the ground like two solids cropped onto each other like some video game. Given a few more seconds, I might have torn through them, but the little time they'd afforded me had been enough to realize that I had no idea what I was doing. For one, I hadn't scouted the edges of the entire island, and two, I had no idea if I'd keep falling down to the island, even if that jump looked to be achievable.

For what felt like the thousandth time today, I sighed in relief. "Holy shit… thank you, Mimi," I forced out. "I was just drawn in. Th—there's an expression for this, you know? L'appel du vide, it's Kalosian. Cece explained it to me once." Mimi ignored my ramblings and prickled at my ankles to beg me to get away from the edge, and I did. They freed my ankles once they felt that I was stepping back and slumped into a puddle, exhausted. "I think we'll need Buddy to help. I know he's tired from the constant battling, but there isn't much of a choice and I need people here to keep me sane."

What would have happened if I'd fallen? Would I have kept tumbling, for eternity?

Better not to think about it.

I was worried about what this place would do to him given his ghost typing, but it wasn't like I had much of a choice, and while Sweetheart was an option, I was certain she wouldn't be able to resist the mental assault that the Dusk would bring. At least Pokeballs work in here. I brushed a finger against Jellicent's Pokeball. The bright light was swallowed by the wind, yet Buddy appeared anyway, his red eyes widening at the sudden shift in the environment. This was a rather large change from Spear Pillar. What came immediately after was his head swelling under the sheer amount of spirits around, along with their lingering energy. Hell, Mathilda had spoken about how every single dead ghost came here to recuperate, slowly feeding on the scraps that thing left by simply existing to gain their strength and travel back into our world. True ghost or not, it would make any Pokemon like Jellicent react a certain way if they weren't used to it, as I'd feared.

His Pokeball was still clasped tightly in my hand. "Bud? Are you feeling alright?" I glanced away from his maw opening with rows upon rows of jagged, frozen and poisoned teeth in a similar way that he'd taken down Wormadam. Out of his mouth came a distorted moan, slowly morphing into an agonized scream. Parts of the smaller clouds above our heads trickled down to him, twisted and coalesced— Night Shade! "Shit!" Immediately, I beamed him back into his Pokeball, and once the nascent shades dissolved, I looked down at Mimi, whose eye was wobbling again. They'd never seen him like this, hadn't they?

He wasn't meant to be here, ghost type or not, and there being so much ambient energy around was I assumed like what had happened to Saturn's Glalie with Regice, but on steroids. I wasn't going to be able to ride him to other islands.

"I guess that's not going to work, 'cause nothing ever goes right." After clipping the Pokeball back on my belt, I clutched my forehead with both my hands and groaned. "Okay, Grace. Okay. Think. How are you going to do this?"

The rest of my Pokemon were off, either unconscious and in desperate need of a visit to the Pokemon Center or they were unable to be here without going mad. Mimi pointed at one of the smaller rocks, and I nodded, understanding after a few seconds. If things looked this desperate, and there was no choice but to jump, then it'd be best to test gravity around here. The steel type enveloped the small rock and vaulted it into my hands by extended an arm, and I shivered in disgust when I felt it writhe around my palm— oh Arceus, oh fuck, it was clipping into my hand and skin— I threw it as far as I could over the edge, which wasn't very much, and I saw it swing up instead of where down felt like it was, all the way out of view.

I laughed, amazed at how awful things were. "Arceus, this is hell. Stranded in the damn Dusk. What else can I—"

I froze, realizing that we'd all been dragged here. Not only my friends and their Pokemon, but Cynthia and Cyrus too. Those wings had been too large to spare any of us, and something told me that they could have been larger had Distortion wanted them too, but did that mean that Mesprit was here, too? I really had no way to know, but they were my only hope now that they'd been freed.

Contacting them… well, screaming wasn't going to work, though I did try. I called out their name for a good thirty seconds, then waited a minute, and then called their name again. Three times, I did this with no results, going all around the island as I did so in hopes of also maybe finding a spot for me to travel to. It wasn't like there was a direction in particular I wanted to go to. If I couldn't use my empathy to find the others because of how painful it was in this dimension, then I would just be traveling in a random direction and hoping for the best, not even knowing if my voice carried that far due to the way sound was distorted here. I did make sure not to look to the edge when I did so, at least. Mimi was too tired to keep me from jumping again.

So long as I could be away from those horrors resembling trees, I'd be better off mentally.

Leaning against my knees for support, I wheezed and held back a scream in order not to scare Mimi, who was clinging to my pants in case I tried anything stupid again. Nothing was working, Arceus fucking damn it!

I really…

Really didn't want to have to use my gift again.

But nothing ever came easy in life, did it? I couldn't get one fucking clean win.

I forced a smile on my face and stared down at Mimi. "I'm gonna head back to the center of the island and open up my empathy, okay?" The steel type wobbled, clearly unsure of my decision. "In normal circumstances, I'd just wait, but I can't. There's weakness in isolation, here, you see? Think about what would have happened to me if you hadn't been here. It might get worse the longer I wait."

Meltan's eye flattened, then turned into a perfect 'o' for understanding or agreement, which was something they'd nabbed from Cass. I made a similar sign with my thumb and index finger, then took a deep breath as my eyes narrowed. The dirty bandages on my hands chaffed as I clenched my fists and focused. It might knock me unconscious, but if I could move around and bundle up all of the negative emotions floating around this island, Mesprit might take notice and—

"Found you!"

I stumbled as a scream rippled through my throat and I covered my face by reflex, and Mimi quickly slipped under my clothes and up on my head, turning themselves into a blob full of spikes that pricked my scalp. I internally cursed for freezing again as my hand went for my Pokeball, but it stopped when I saw Mesprit staring at me with a tilt of their head, as if they were confused. While everything here appeared faded out, their skin was still a brilliant, pale blue and pink.

"Wha—"

"You were going to release one of your Pokemon against me?!" Mesprit gasped with a hand over their mouth. "After I went as fast as I could to find you?! What's wrong with you?!"

My face flushed. "No— your voice sounds monstrous—"

"Well yours does too, Shard!" the Guardian complained. "You and your little ingot are forgiven for now."

Mimi protested at the fact that they'd been called a mere ingot, which I knew was many pegs down from the titles they used to hold like 'Eternal Alloy', but there were no time for pleasantries, even if it felt surreal to finally be this close to Mesprit in real life. They were at their full power, now, and their body rippled with limitless energy that gave life to this place. I hadn't noticed at first, but the red veins covering the floor seemed to flinch at Mesprit's mere presence, and the trees pointing down above us swayed as far as they could away from them like a bunch of worms. Already, I was beginning to feel slightly more upbeat and not pulled down by the heavy emotions this place carried.

"Thank you for answering my call, Mesprit. I need your help for—"

"Your call? I just tracked you using that piece of me in your head," they said, exasperated. "It's not like your voice would be audible over Giratina's from far away."

"What? Is that the name of that… that thing that ripped the sky apart?"

Mesprit nodded, almost annoyed with me.

My feet shifted uncomfortably against the ground. It having a name made it realer to me. "I can't hear anything, though."

"Oh, right. Human," they said, rolling their eyes. "You must have forgotten. He keeps screaming over and over, it's really getting on my nerves. Your fragile mind must have blocked it out every time so you don't go mad."

Oh. Okay, that was just going to be a thing, then. Opting to ignore the tickling feeling working its way through my spine, I stepped forward. "Please, Mesprit. You finding me means that Mira is probably safe, and I think she'll have Uxie find her uncle first, but Maylene is alone and Azelf… what happened to Azelf?"

"Oh, my sibling's dormant, at the moment. I assume the empty shell gave a long-lasting order before Giratina brought us all to his world. A void of emotion he might be, he certainly doesn't lack in willpower!" Mesprit giggled. "But very well. I shall aid you in your quest to save your fellow humans. First, we find my sibling. I can feel them nearby."

The Legendary waved a hand, and the ground began to elongate slowly into the emptiness ahead. As the path stretched, the surrounding scenery was dragged along with it. Light, pebbles, the cracks in the floor and even the ground itself bent in a way that gave me a headache if I looked at it for too long; yet I was utterly enthralled with this process. The ground elongated into a bridge leading to another island, this one as small a floor of my apartment complex back in Jubilife with a single tree growing in the middle. The path stretched 'up' and twisted around in a way that I was really not comfortable with seeing, or even walking on. The visual effect created was disorienting; the perspective of the path shifted and warped. The bridge I was supposed to cross looked like a bizarre, undulating ribbon, snaking into the distance with a dizzying, hypnotic motion. In the few conversations I'd had with Cassianus or Mira's Alakazam and they spoke to me about psychic manipulation, ground had always been described as the most difficult material to move. It could be ripped away with enough strength and better technique, but it often wasn't worth it for a psychic type to expend their energy on it during a fight.

Despite this, Mesprit had already floated away and was beckoning me. Not only had they manipulated the ground, they had bent it to their liking and extended it into a narrow path I could follow, all without causing the structure to break from the force they applied.

"Come on, now. Don't be slow."

"I'm going to fall…" I hesitantly trailed off.

"Gravitational issues have been handled. I can tame bits of it here. Look!" Mesprit waved a hand, and I screamed as both me and Mimi were dragged onto the twisting path. Instead of falling into the void, we stuck to the pathway the psychic made. "See? No need to throw a fit."

"P—please warn me the next time you do that."

"Fine! Sorry!" they said, very passive-aggressively.

I clung to the floor for dear life. The ground was barely wide enough to fit me, and everywhere around me was essentially what felt to me like the sky. Sometimes as a kid, when my dad dragged me to one of the parks in Jubilife where we'd nap on the grass, I'd wake up and feel like I was falling up in the sky until I shook off the sleep. For once, I didn't care about the heartbeat-like pulse below me, and I crawled on the ground while Mimi squirmed inside my jacket. It felt less like solid floor and more like I was crawling on a trampoline or a mattress that swayed and bounced with each motion. Sometimes I'd feel as if I'd just been about to fall, only for me to realize that only my head had entered a zone where gravity was different and the rest of my body was still safe close to the ground.

"You're so slow! Do I need to carry you everywhere?! If I use too much of my power for a sustained amount of time, Giratina will get angry at me for messing up his realm," Mesprit grumbled.

Slowly, I stood up and tried to ignore the fact that the perspective was getting me nauseous. For the most part, other than some gravitational anomalies, it felt like walking normally, just on a soft surface, but having an all-encompassing void all around me and seeing my destination be sideways compared to me had my brain constantly playing tricks on me and making me think I was about to fall. I did make it to the island without a hitch, though, so Mesprit's powers were working.

"Of course they're working. Just because we're in the middle of Distortion doesn't mean I'm useless!" they huffed. With a flicker of their arm, the stretched bit of ground returned to normal, and they directed me forward. "I will admit, I cannot go all out, however."

"May I ask why?" I asked, already mentally psyching myself up for the next crossing.

"It has to do with the nature of this place." Mesprit spun around me and squinted at Mimi, who shrunk like water at their heavy gaze. Their eyes swung up at me, and I averted my gaze. "Hm, your knowledge of Distortion is rather incomplete. Dusk? Ah, yes what ghosts call it. I haven't been out in forever, so I nearly forgot."

I bit down on my objection that would have demanded how the hell I'd been supposed to know anything about this place, but I assume Mesprit figured anyway, because they stuck out their tongue at me. "There isn't really anything dusk-like about this place. When I imagined it, I guess I thought it'd be like… well, like dusk."

"You think like a human!" Mesprit yelled. I could feel their frustration like a physical thing. "Ghosts don't see color, you daft Shard! This expanse to them looks almost the exact same as your so-called dusk— ah! Don't step there!"

My foot hovered over a patch of ground that looked exactly the same as everything else. "Why?"

"Take a gander," Mesprit said with a smirk. The Guardian came close to the ground and plunged a tail into it. It wasn't like water, either. There was no disturbance, not even a tiny ripple. It was, well, like putting a limb into another solid. "You would have fallen through the floor, and it would have been annoying to get you out before you asphyxiated. Human bodies are so fragile!" They rolled their eyes.

I blinked as Mesprit pulled out their tail. Like pushing fabric, the solid ground I was on moved with a single look from the psychic and I crossed the dangerous area unabashed. As soon as we made it to the edge of the island, another path extended to a mountainous island full of gaping, maw-like openings leading into caverns. I noticed a meteorite-like boulder rush sideways from above us. "So you didn't answer my question. Why can't you go all out? What's the nature of this place? Its shape?"

"Beyond what you already know, I can't… move things around here, hence the stretching and bending," Mesprit explained. "Distortion is a reflection of our plane of existence. Anything that happens here ripples out into our world, and vice versa. If I were to rip parts of these islands apart instead or summon barriers out of thin air, Giratina would throw a fit. It's better to use what's already there to contain the damage."

"So it goes both ways? What about our world?" I asked. "Does anything go on here that affects it?"

"Rarely. Look around, girl. This place is more inactive than not."

It was true. If I took a step back, beyond the induced paranoia, fear and other negative emotions, other than some islands and rocks floating and moving about, and the grouping of spirits, there was nothing really going on, and it would be like this forever.

But dead ghosts were also supposed to gather here, not just echoes of the dead who had already passed on. That meant that Dusknoir was here somewhere.

A topic for later. First I needed to get more information out of… no, that the wrong mentality to have. We were friends. Exploiting them for knowledge was wrong, if I was going to do better and not repeat what had come beforehand. Break the cycle. That was what Repentance— what I was about.

"How moving," Mesprit hummed.

"If you ever want to stop talking about this, you let me know, okay?" I hesitantly said, hopping onto the next island. The wind near the cave's opening was a sinister thing. Buffered voices of the fallen, coming one after the other. The stone making up this hill was made of a similar material the ground was: a pinkish, light red. Though I could barely see inside the cave, it was easy to tell that the path wasn't going to stay uncoiled very long. It was already veering up and sideways right at the entrance. Still on my shoulder, Meltan chimed and the sound was swallowed by the cave faster than what was natural. "Can I ask more about Distortion?"

"Entertain me, Shard!"

Okay, so this was still fun to them. Good. "So what is this place for?"

"An appropriate term to use would be scaffolding," Mesprit pondered, floating into the cave first. I followed with a hesitant step, glad to have the light they were emitting with me. "Without this world, yours would collapse in on itself, and again, vice versa, though once upon a time, Giratina might not have opposed this. I can't believe all he got for breaking the rules was a slap on the wrist! Our Creator is too nice, sometimes."

I gulped as I carefully placed a foot in front of the other. It was trippy, seeing the way the path turned upside down like a winding snake ahead of us. I had never considered myself a claustrophobe, but the ceiling being so low and oppressive made me feel like the cave was closing in on me. The walls or ceiling also would sometimes bulge inwards, as if trying to close in on me, then recede just as quickly, leaving me disoriented and on edge. Mesprit kept saying it was just a 'trick of the light', or that it wasn't real, but it looked and sounded real to me, and getting skewered by a sharp row of stalagmites or stalactites wouldn't be ideal. My skin would already prickle with phantom pain every time they got near me.

Better distract myself and learn more about this place, then. "So… he's not good?" My voice didn't reverberate in the cave like it should have. Instead, it was almost muted. "Or he used to not be?"

"You humans and good and evil," Mesprit groaned, a sound which I guessed would have been particularly human had everything here not been distorted. "Even me and my siblings aren't great at deciphering what it means to you, and we were made specifically to understand you and to impart our gifts upon you. Giratina is another matter entirely, and so are many of His creations. Even Palkia, as understanding as she is!"

I blinked, not really knowing how to react to that rant. "By good here, I explicitly mean, is he going to end the world or not?"

"Of course not! He saved it, you…" Mesprit held back an insult, though I still felt it. "He was banished here by Him—" They were obviously referring to Arceus here. "And while I despised him— and still despise him in a way for going against His rules again, there is no denying his interference salvaged Creation from being permanently broken."

Broken, not destroyed. It was like Anguish had said. A being so powerful set loose still would have effectively ended the world as we knew it had it not been held back by this Giratina. Just when I'd been about to speak again, Mimi screeched and pointed above our heads, where two malformed shapes hovered together. Dead ghosts, I knew instantly. Then more, and more— hundreds were gathered together within this singular cave, as if they were taking refuge from something. Some were indistinguishable, but others, I vaguely recognized. The shape of a Shuppet, clinging closely to the cavern's walls. A Mismagius stared us down with piercing red eyes, his form almost solid as it would have been in the real world. A laughing Haunter surrounded by two Ghastly, who joined in as soon as they noticed us. These ghosts weren't aggressive, nor were they moving very much. Really, this kind of felt like a big club where they could tell each other stories about what was going on in their lives. Mathilda had told me that there were faces you remembered, after dying over and over, so clearly making friends was an option, even if they barely had the energy to move. But how did they get back in the real world, anyway?

"Tiny breaches don't have much effect beyond a visual and auditory distortion where the ghost comes back, though they have to expend a lot of energy to do so," Mesprit said. "A rift to fit Giratina is something else entirely. But why don't you ask what you truly want to ask?"

I hesitantly glanced down at Mimi, then back at them. "I mean, you know."

"But conversations are a lot of fun!" Mesprit twirled and their tails excitedly intertwined. "So ask!"

"Well, first, why did he bring us here—"

"I don't know, haha!" Mesprit laughed. "Maybe he wanted to get the culprit who almost ended His creation to himself, and you were all collateral damage. I'd ask him if he wasn't so angered and I could get close!"

I swallowed. "What did you mean by banished, exactly."

"Well, I hadn't been created yet when it happened," Mesprit said. "And this is just what He… He told us, before sending us off to our Lakes, when He spoke to us about Time, Space, and Distortion." Even now, Mesprit seemed to have the wind taken out of their sails when thinking too hard about their memories with Arceus. They didn't let it get to them for long, and their eyes brightened. "Simply put, Giratina was banished because he is a violent Pokemon."

I frowned. "Violent… like ghosts are prone to sometimes?"

We reached the most crowded part of the cave, packed with ghosts, and they all made way for Mesprit without a word. "Well, they do get it from him, but you think too small, Shard. You believe violence to be constrained to the urges you get, like when you wanted to cut Mars apart with your axe, or when your Pokemon kill something. That is a crude understanding of what violence is." I felt a little push on my back, a wordless sign that they were growing impatient with my tired pace. "Distortion's existence itself is violent, and blaming him for it would be like holding our sun accountable for every instance of scorching heat, parched earth, wilted flower and forest fire. Everywhere he goes, he warps and twists the world around him. He is the long quiet; the whispers you hear at night as a child that make you retreat under the covers; the random urges you sometimes get to commit a horrible act that leaves as soon as it had come; the item you swear you had left on your countertop, yet you've misplaced and only find hours later; the shadow that flickers just out of sight, always lurking at the edge of your vision; the cold, creeping dread that coils around your heart when you realize you're utterly alone." There was a short pause, and something like empathy flashed on the Guardian's face. I supposed they knew a thing or two about being trapped somewhere for eternity. "He was made this way, through no fault of his own, forced to observe the world, but never interact with it. In many ways, his situation is worse than mine. At least I have my siblings to talk to, and I can change things around my Lake."

"I… I don't know what to say to that," I admitted, rubbing the side of my arm.

"Good," Mesprit nodded. "You could not fathom it, anyway." There was a short pause, and a deep frown that looked wrong on their face. "Stop."

I wanted to ask why, but they knew better, so I did. I hadn't noticed during Mesprit's speech with Giratina, but there were no more ghosts around. We'd reached some kind of circular— no, rectangular— no, long and thin— a chamber whose shape I couldn't place. Mesprit looked behind me, sighing in an exasperated manner, and when I followed their gaze I noticed that the path behind us had closed off. We were completely isolated without a way to access the outside. The air grew thicker, more oppressive, and the acrid stench filling my nose made every breath I pulled a bigger struggle. The walls of the cavern, now slick with a viscous, black substance that hadn't been there, pulsed rhythmically as if alive and swallowed the ambient light until we were left with nothing but pitch blackness.

I was blind.

I couldn't see. I couldn't see. I couldn't see, nor hear, nor feel, nor smell, nor taste. My feet were no longer in contact with the ground, as if I was hovering somewhere. I couldn't— no, no, no. I could see. Light popped like bubbles at the corners of my eyes; a dimly, starlit sky that expanded like fireworks that I could hear, even with my wounded ear, each growing closer and closer until I smelled the blood so strongly that I could taste it in my mouth and the back of my throat.

Denzel's corpse flickered in and out of the dark, his body face down and his back utterly destroyed. A canvas of suffering marred by the merciless touch of fire. The upper back was a mottled patchwork of color: livid reds intermingled with the ghostly pallor of dead tissue, while some areas were blackened and charred, the skin burned away to reveal raw, angry flesh beneath that was still smoking. The faint smell of burned flesh lingered in the air. Large, angry blisters bubbled up in grotesque forms, some intact and taut with fluid, others ruptured and oozing with raw and jagged edges full of puss. The burns grew more and more pronounced, deeper, more horrifying. Across the expanse of Denzel's shoulders, the burn wounds formed two hollow, darkened pits where the skin had blistered and burst, resembling a pair of sunken, hollow eyes, while a gash split his back horizontally, with rows of blisters acting as its teeth. The thing laughed with the sound of burning fire and spoke, its voice and the markings of its face still remaining even after Denzel had disappeared at last and only the lingering odor remained.

SMELL the cooked flesh. SMELL how familiar it seems to you. SMELL your best friend decaying away.

I could smell it, even as I was brought to my knees. It was all that remained in me.

As of someone had shined a spotlight, another spot in the darkness lit up, revealing Chase's body, again with his face down. In his thigh, two darkened craters punctuated the skin, leaking more darkened blood that should have been in his body, and in his lower back, an even larger wound had penetrated through. The entry wounds were ragged and torn, surrounded by a circle of bruising and jagged skin that was swollen and inflamed. The two, small wounds on his thigh turned to tiny, beady eyes with no light to them while the hole in his back distorted into a mockery that shouldn't have been able to fit, yet did anyway. My eyesight expanded, then zoomed into the individual wounds without my doing, as if my face was right there. Each wound was a volcano across a pale expanse of skin, each drop of blood a gushing, overflowing river capable of drowning me.

SEE

Everything vanished, and darkness fled with continuous howls of every pitch. The cavern returned, as did the ambient light, and the corpse was gone. The pathway ahead had even revealed itself to us. I stared at my hand and saw it shake uncontrollably until I clenched it with much difficulty.

"How unexpected," Mesprit slowly hummed. "My apologies, Shard. I would have freed you faster than the few seconds it took, but you're so forceful about hating messing with emotions that I had to work around it."

"What… happened," I mumbled through chattering teeth. Every time I blinked, I saw them burned into my retinas. "Why?" I sniffled. "Why?"

They were okay. I'd told myself that it was better to hope for the best.

But Legendaries.

How in the world was I supposed to think that now?

"Those were spirits. The reflections of the dead sprung an illusionary trap," Mesprit explained. "They were probably jealous about what you have, so they made you see something you were worried about. Onwards! Unless you want me to patch you up?"

Mimi worryingly warbled at me, and with a trembling breath, I answered, "I'll… deal with this."



We were finally leaving the cave, now. I never thought I'd think this, but I was glad to be out in the open again. I'd taken to blinking as few times as possible so I could stop seeing them lying lifeless, but the smell? It still lingered, even now, though it was thankfully fading. Both of them were.

Once more, Mesprit stretched the ground toward an island with a loud waterfall that we were walking directly toward, as if we were standing on a wall. The waterfall itself changed directions midway through and fell out of view— or at least I didn't want to lean and look to see where it went. The waterfall was like a mockery of the real thing. The water was too uniform, with no foam or splashes, and it originated from a point in a rock that seemed almost random. Everything here being unsettling was starting to wear down my mind.

But I was glad I was out of that place.

"How far?" I asked.

"Distance is odd, here," Mesprit quickly answered. "But we should be getting close to my sibling. I feel them." The floating Legendary pointed down into the cascading water. "Jump in."

"E—excuse me?"

"You heard me. Ride the waterfall."

"Can't you carry me or something? Is that water even healthy? Won't I fall off— gah!" A sudden force pushed me down the water, accompanied by one of Mesprit's giggles, though they did keep Meltan away from the water and grabbed them in their arms. Some of the liquid got into my mouth, which I instantly spit out. The water didn't… well, it didn't taste like it should have, but the difference was impossible to place. At least I was somehow floating and swimming in a waterfall, which was…

Arceus help me. So long as I could get myself and the others out of here faster.

"No psychic powers if I can help it," Mesprit said. "This waterfall is perfectly navigable for you. Get swimming."

I didn't really have to swim, given that the current was carrying me wherever it was that the waterfall led. Hell, Mesprit didn't even have to mess with gravity to keep me in the sinuous currents. My buoyancy here seemed to be far higher than normal, but I was already tired, so I wasn't going to complain. For what felt like more time than it actually was, the current led me down to another lake, this one only knee deep somehow. A waterfall of this size and volume should have made it way bigger than it actually was. I crawled out of there and onto shore as soon as I could. There was a constant feeling of something tickling my ankles and legs that I didn't want to experience for one second longer. Although my clothes and skin should have been wet, the thick, invisible grime or ink or whatever was covering me kept me dry.

I still patted down my clothes, just in case, and Meltan tried to crawl out of Mesprit's embrace, to no avail. "Sit still, ingot! None of your squirming will make any difference!"

"They want to—"

"I know what it wants! I just don't care!" Mesprit huffed.

"You have to…" Legendaries, how to say this? I was too exhausted and scarred to go on a tirade about manners. Meanwhile, Mesprit was full of boundless energy and was pretending nothing had even happened. "Well, maybe not learn, but you have to try to understand consent. When someone doesn't want something, you don't do that thing."

"Why?"

"Because they don't like it."

"I can make it like it."

"Anything but that!" I yelled.

"See? You make no sense!" Mesprit threw Mimi back to me and sighed. "Having something to hold feels good. I just wanted to experience it before I have to go back to the Lake alone."

A sad scrappy noise left Mimi's body, and the steel type's eye turned wobbly.

I tapped a foot against the ground and nodded in understanding. "They feel bad for you, I think. So, uh, have them back?"

Mesprit beamed, instantly grabbing Mimi back so tightly that their eye nearly fell out of their gear. "A thousand blessings to you, ingot! Onwards!" The path ahead stretched toward one of the largest islands I'd seen. This one was basically a full-fledged forest, curved in on itself like a bowl. "Azelf is somewhere there."

"Good." I allowed silence to take hold. If I wasn't going to say it now, I'd never do. "Say, Mesprit. If there was this Dusknoir I was theoretically looking for—"

"Mars' owner."

My tongue pushed against the back of my teeth. I hated when people put it like that. It made me feel like they were absolving Mars from consequences or blame, even if they weren't. "He died, so he should be nearby somewhere," I explained. "And Uxie's told us that the only way to kill a ghost," I paused, "is to kill them here. Other ghosts can't, because of some sort of pact sworn at the beginning of their existence, but I could."

All I'd need to do was let Sweetheart out and hope for the best. What I didn't want to do, was have to have Mesprit fuck with her head to reach the result I wanted.

"I will not intervene in mortal affairs beyond getting you and the other Shards out of here," Mesprit said.

I stopped dead in my tracks. "...why?"

"Don't let it get to you!" Mesprit twirled and turned upside down. "Aren't you glad the world has been saved? Smile!"

My jaw clenched. "I really… really don't understand this rule thing. I don't think I ever will. Didn't you say Giratina broke the rules when you first found me? That he barely got any punishment at all? There are thousands of people, trapped in Dusknoir's body right now, even as we speak. Being tortured. My grandmother is in there."

Mesprit looked at me as if I was speaking Kalosian. "You don't even like your grandmother."

"It's not about that—" I clenched the bridge of my nose. I'd promised I wasn't going to use them, and this was a personal vendetta. It was also the right thing to do, but maybe I'd figure out another way to get Dusknoir once we found Cynthia. "Let's just get Azelf back."

This was my first time in a true forest in the Distortion world, and it was disconcerting how uniform it was. Seeing a few trees next to each other was one thing, but thousands? Every single one of them was the same as the last, from its length, to its width, to the hair-like leaves at their edges. Again, there were no branches and their green bark was so smooth they all looked artificially crafted.

"Look down!" Mesprit screamed.

Impulsively,
I listened. I'd wanted
to look down, right then
and there. I wasn't even angry
at the fact that Mesprit had ordered
ME around, really. Not after hearing the sheer
panic in their voice. I'd seen them sad or angry, but
panicked? My eyes stayed transfixed to the ground, as did
Mimi's, but Mesprit stared straight up at what must have been there
My… my eyes itched. Itched to see ITS form. To crane my neck up a smidge so I
could take in the shape of what madness truly looked like, right ABOVE.
Why was it, that letting go could be so appealing? What made the unknown so
terrifying, yet wondrous all the—​

"Shard!"I blinked, my mouth feeling horribly dry, and I slumped against one of the slimy trees for support. "Huh?"

"I've been calling you forever. Are you okay? Did you see it? Do I need to tweak your brain? Uxie would be better at it, but emotions are effective at making you forget things, too!"

I held up a hand. "No. No, I'm fine. Uh, was— was that…"

I'd spoken its— his name before, but I couldn't. Not now.

Mesprit nodded. "What you saw on His Throne before being taken here— that inky black form— it's not his actual body. Your Champion's mind might have survived looking at Giratina—" I flinched. "—through a pale reflection, but seeing him in full? That isn't something someone can just… live after. Even ghosts avoid looking at him."

"O—okay."

"At least if he's around here, he shouldn't be bothering your friends. He's hovering around, so keep your eyes on your feet, just in case," Mesprit warned.

I shuffled and entered the woods. At least the trees would give me some cover. "Is he screaming right now?"

"Constantly."

The woods which had seemed so terrifying were a refuge, in comparison. Mesprit kept saying that Azelf was somewhere in here, but that was horribly vague and the island had a way of changing shapes and configurations, or at least it felt like it. The Guardian was adamant we were getting closer, though, and I was just a person, so I was inclined to trust them. As strange as it sounded, it did feel to me like we were traveling through a set path despite the forest looking the exact same in every direction, and the trees were all spaced out by the exact same length. It also felt like I was going straight even though I knew it was concave. At some point, Mesprit broke from the constant uniformity and looked behind us, and by the time I noticed, it was Mimi, who mewled as if to ask what was going on.

"Hm. I knew a ghost out in the open when Giratina was and remains this angry was strange," Mesprit slowly pondered.

The ghostly figure hovered behind us, its form partially obscured by the eerie shadows cast by the trees surrounding it. It took me a few seconds to understand what I'd been looking at. The ghost's body flickered like a faulty hologram, edges blurring and wavering in and out of focus. Its single eye, normally a piercing red, was now a dull, lifeless gray, barely reflecting the little light generated in this place. The eye moved sluggishly, as if struggling to stay anchored to its spectral form. Wisps of shadowy mist clung to the specter's body, seeping into it like ink being drawn into a sponge.

There were only a few Dusknoir in the world. Only Mars' had died in the vicinity of Mount Coronet days ago. There was only one Pokemon this could be, and he had followed us… why? It was easy to see him struggling to even more. Where he had exuded fear and pressure before, unleashing Arceus knew how many screams at will, he was now a shadow of his former self. Pathetic, almost faded entirely. Each time he dragged himself forward, he bled more of himself that he could barely replace with the shadows hanging in the air.

"It's been following us," Mesprit said with a tilt of their head. "In this place, I'm like a beacon. We're easy to keep track of."

"...aren't you going to kill him?"

"Why?"

"He— he was following us!" I pressed, fists clenching. "He wants to do something."

"It's too weak to even gather the shadows it's using to remain alive as an attack," Mesprit shrugged. "I will not interfere, nor will I break the rules or trample on Giratina's hospitality. Keep walking this way." They pointed… well, it was impossible to know where, but relative to us, it was forward and away from Dusknoir. "Willpower is close."

My hand clasped tightly around Sweetheart's Pokeball.

"Do not interfere with the Cycle," Mesprit warned. "Ordinarily, I would support letting your emotions rule you, but you'll die. Your name will spread and you will become the enemy of all ghosts. They will hunt and haunt you until the end of your days, and that Tyranitar you're planning on using."

The hold on my Pokeball trembled, and Dusknoir silently observed. "It's not fucking fair."

"Ghosts are closely knit beings," Mesprit said. "They are bound by rules and practices wound in a Covenant established by the first of their kind, who bled off of Giratina and who remain hidden. Their word is law. You cannot throw your life away, or I'll be alone again." The Guardian floated in front of my face and their eyes gleamed. "You said you would be my friend. We can't be friends if you die as soon as this 'League' stops guarding you at all times. Then I'll be alone again."

"It's— it's not fair."

Mesprit shoved Mimi back into my face, and I instinctively grabbed them in my arms. "Have the ingot."

Nothing ever went the way I wanted it to. Things always ranged from catastrophic to barely alright. Never would I be able to live with my head above the water. It was always going to be like this.

Grace Pastel… heed my words.

My head spun back to Dusknoir so fast my throbbed in pain. He was talking to me. No, it wasn't truly him. Each word out of his fading abdomen was made of a different voice that somehow sounded clear, even in the Distortion world. Voices of the people he had trapped within his— I growled and took a step forward. Was he fucking taunting me?

Mesprit frowned. "What are you doing, ghost?"

Heed my words… he slowly repeated, bleeding into the world. Literally, with each word he spoke, he lost parts of himself. Save her…

"What?"

Interest gleamed in Mesprit's eye. "No… you wouldn't dare."

She is innocent. Innocent. Innocent, the ghost said. Prisoner for decades. Observer. I knew… deep down, that it had to be this way. There is no other method to cheat a death of my own making.

"He wasn't following us for you!" Mesprit gasped. "He was following us to get close enough to Giratina—"

Dusknoir raised a finger.

A single finger. Weak, trembling, and as consistent as vapor.

And pointed it at the sky.

The world itself beat like a single heart, rippling across me with enough force to rip away the trees surrounding us. A barrier I hadn't realized was there had protected me from it, but Dusknoir was screaming with his actual voice, this time. Mimi flinched away as an inky blackness surrounded the ghost, throbbing with red like channels that looked like veins. Like tar, it clung to every inch of his threadbare skin and somehow made it solid. Dusknoir's body flickered erratically, and I caught his form fracturing into pieces that the human eye could not comprehend, yet he held strong and opened the mouth on his abdomen.

Thin smoke billowed out from the massive maw, uniform at first until they took shape as trails of gleaming darkness. A few turned into dozens, and that turned into hundreds, but there was a human shaped thing being vomited out of his mouth, too. The oil-like substance bled off of it, revealing a girl with skin so pale it was almost translucent. Her long, brown hair covered her face as soon as she slumped onto the forest floor with a dull, distorted thud, and Dusknoir just… became non-existent.

He was dead. I didn't know how I knew, but deep in my heart of hearts, I was certain he had just died for good.

"It… it drew on power directly from Giratina for this and died from the blowback," Mesprit muttered. "How interesting! I had no idea it loved her enough to die in her stead when ghosts are anathema to death!"

It took me longer than Mesprit to understand what I'd just seen. My hand twitched around the handle of a sharp implement that wasn't there, and I slowly approached the girl.

Shifting closer.

Ever closer.

Mesprit seemed content to stay silent and gauge my reaction when I crouched and a trembling hand hovered over the girl's head. I was scared, I realized. Terrified of the face I'd potentially see. Like jumping into a cold pool, I brushed it aside and sighed in relief when it was a different face that I'd expected, only for me to immediately spot the similarities with Mars. The skin wasn't as smooth— there was a small scar above her eyebrow and acne scars strewn about her cheeks, and the pores on her nose was visible— nor was she built as flawlessly, but it was her face.

"It's Mars," I said, disbelieving. "I'm dumping her over the edge— or— or leaving her here to rot, if you think that's interfering because she's also a ghost."

Mesprit hummed. "No, it's not her."

My soul nearly jumped out of my skin when the girl— the woman groaned.

"It's her— I don't care if she's amnesiac or whatever excuse you bring up, she's built for murder. She's a caricature!"

"It's not. Will you go against my word? they questioned with an annoyed tone, as best as I could tell, at least.

"Explain. Right now."

"Don't be rude." The Legend rolled their eyes. "This isn't Mars, nor has she lost her memories. Mars is truly dead," they said. "This girl is who Mars was based on— the original whom Dusknoir was safeguarding and keeping prisoner."

"...what?"

"Though I have to say, Dusknoir butchered her revival," Mesprit said, hovering around the unconscious brunette. "She won't live very long. Ten more years, at most, but at least she won't age!"

"No! We're ending this!"

"Why?"

"Because she's Mars," I pressed on.

"I mean, you can do whatever pleases you now that you're dealing with another human," they nonchalantly said. "But she's not Mars. She shares some of those traits, but Dusknoir accentuated those that he liked and dimmed the ones he hated, like having a moral compass. Anyway!" They clapped their hands and beamed. "What are you going to do?"

They were treating this like a movie. I hated it. I understood it, because this was a rest from the boring monotonous life they'd had in the Lake and they were happy they could stay out for a bit, but I still hated how it was all a game to them.

"You wouldn't get it anyway, stupid! Your brain is like an amoeba!"

I paced in front of the body, tongue scraping against the wound I'd opened in my mouth earlier, and considered my options.

"Could she have spoken to Dusknoir and told him stuff? Like, who to kill?" I asked.

"I'm certain he could hear her, but remember. This was not an equal relationship. He held the reign, and all she could do was watch."

Right. Even Mathilda had lamented over Mars' fate when I'd met her in the Lost Tower, so that tracked.

"I wouldn't lie to you anyway, Shard," they said, almost disappointed.

"So explain this to me, then. Dusknoir had this girl captured for who knows how long, and— and then what? He just used her as a model to build a psychopath?" My pacing grew quicker, as did my voice. "He loved her enough to sacrifice himself to bring her back, but he kept her trapped inside of himself and made a mockery of her? There's more to this than a ghost striving to revive their deceased trainer in a new world. The pieces don't fit quite neatly enough, even if you peg Dusknoir as an irrational actor."

"It probably wanted to keep the parts it loved. This girl," Mesprit paused to look down when she moaned again, "no doubt knows more about their circumstances. You like stories, right? You could take her with you, since she's about to wake!"

The reborn woman stirred.

Bright, amber eyes opened and faced us.

She screamed.
 
Last edited:
Distortion II
A/N: General trigger warning, this chapter gets somewhat dark and some scenes might be unpleasant to read.

DISTORTION II


The scream was long and drawn out, changing in pitch and volume all throughout. The Distortion World made it difficult to tell what kind of scream it was. I believed it to be fearful at first, given the fact that she was waking up in an unfamiliar and terrifying place, but her face said otherwise. Etched on her pale visage was something I could only describe as pure relief, and as her voice cracked and her lips curved into a smile that instinctively fanned the flame of rage inside of me, Mars' shoulders sagged and she panted loudly, thanking the Legendaries under her breath.

"That was nice," Mesprit said. "I love it when people are so emotionally overwhelmed that they just scream."

The new Mars was, as I'd described, the same as the last, if a little less perfect. Her brownish amber hair was nowhere as popping red. It reached down to her shoulders in waves and her body— her naked body was covered in deep and shallow scars that revealed to me she had been a fighter of my kind. Most of them were cuts like the ones on my left arm, but there were puncture scars on her stomach, and teeth marks on her right thigh and waist as deep as Cecilia had on her foreleg. Honestly, I found it a miracle that her face had been left unscathed besides the small scar above her right eyebrow. As soon as the weight of her situation settled in, the new Mars' hand went to Pokeballs that weren't there and her eyes sharpened like steel.

I knew people like her, because I was her.

This was a killer.

She cleared her throat, never losing her slight smirk. "Well, hello there Grace," she said, eliciting a frown. I hadn't expected her to know my name, let alone be this confident. "And Mesprit, of course. How could I forget?"

The Legendary waved. "Nice to meet you! I always enjoy interesting people," they said. "I must commend you, you're good at putting on masks to hide being terrified."

The woman's eye twitched, as did her fingers, but she recovered immediately, swaying her head from side to side. "That might be because I'm facing my judge, jury and potential executioner with no means to defend myself. I don't even have clothes! How embarrassing!" She placed her hands on her cheeks and squealed.

The bashfulness was clearly faked. She didn't care that she was naked one bit, but I still took off my coat and threw it at her. "Here."

She caught it, though not as fast as Mars would have. There'd been clumsiness to her movements. She touched the fabric with widening eyes, as if she'd forgotten what it felt like, then draped it around herself. It was big enough to reach her thighs, so it covered pretty much everything. "So are you going to kill me, or what?"

I crouched until we were at the same eye level, since she was sitting on the ground. "That's up to you, Mars. That trick Dusknoir pulled—"

"Natalia."

Stunned, I shook my head. "What?"

"Mars isn't my name. It's the name Cyrus picked for my clone after he found her," she said, lips flattening for a moment. The fact that this place was making it difficult for me to hone in on what she was truly feeling was pissing me off, but the texture of Mimi's soft body in my arms brought me back to earth. "I'm Natalia Ivanova. Now, may I ask where we are?"

"I wouldn't look up if I were you," Mesprit warned, right before Mars— Natalia observed the forest around us. "In fact, I would focus on Grace or myself. This is too entertaining for you to be distracted by how horrifying this place can be to your feeble human mind."

Mars looked down—

I caught myself. Thinking of her as anything else but Mars was proving difficult, but Mars looked down at her feet and pursed her lips. "Is anyone going to answer my question, or…?"

"I'll ask the questions around here," I growled. That damn smug look of hers was going to get on my nerves really fast. She was just like her. Yet I contained the rage within, and instead of asking 'give me a reason I shouldn't kill you right now', I clenched a fist. We were wasting time here, and I was considering having her walk with us to Azelf, but would she figure out a way to run? No, no, she needed us to escape and get back to the real world, but did she know that?

Mesprit's face was a few inches from mine to the side, as if they were enjoying this very much. No, first it was best to have this woman understand that without my word, she was doomed to rot in this hellworld for Arceus knew how long, where she would inevitably grow mad. Ten years at most, Mesprit had said, but I didn't know how time worked here, let alone death.

"Dusknoir spit you out by pulling energy from… from this world's ruler." No matter his motivations, saying that name out loud felt dangerous, especially when he was so close. "He's dead. Permanently. He sacrificed himself to bring you back."

She slowly ran a hand over her leg. "I figured he was gone when I had my body back. Tell me something I don't know."

I took a step forward and ground my teeth together. The urge to find one of the edges of the islands and to dump her over was something I could barely contain, with how confident she was acting. "I don't think you realize the position you're in. You're trapped in the Distortion World. That's the Dusk. Without me, you'll be stuck here, but maybe if you cooperate, I can—"

Damn it.

Damn it, damn it, damn it, I'd given the game away. I was acting way too desperate when I should have been the one in control, and she knew it. Had she pushed my buttons, used my hatred of Mars to get information out of me? It wasn't… the end of the world, but it was still annoying.

"You mean without me," Mesprit corrected with a huff. I ignored them.

I needed to get Mars off her feet. To have her take in this place so her mind could fray.

"Get up." I brusquely motioned at her with a hand. "You're coming with us, and I'm going to question you."

"How straightforward," she said with a shrug. "Sure."

Seeing her stumble when she stood brought me great pleasure. Not only had she not actually had a body in who knew how long, the Distortion world made it difficult to put one foot in front of the other. She leaned against one of the nearby trees to support herself and groaned when she realized how slimy they were. Then, she looked up at the twisted form of what this place called vegetation and her already pale skin turned as white as a sheet of paper. It was the little moments of weakness like these, that gave me the confidence to push on. Mars or not, she was defenseless, and her brain was just as human as mine. My fingers nervously kneaded over Mimi like dough until she was finally ready to walk.

Remember. You're in control.

"Follow me. We'll get Azelf back, and then be on our way," Mesprit said, before floating around both of us. "But don't let me interrupt your wonderful conversation and clash of emotions!"

"Get in front of me. Don't turn around, or I'll assume you're planning something and sic an angry Tyranitar at you so she can treat you like a chew toy," I said.

Mars innocently raised her hands, but she wasn't fooling anyone. Mesprit led us both deeper into the woods, whatever 'deeper' meant. It wasn't like I could tell the difference or the environment was changing. If I had to guess, Cyrus' order might have been to hide in the most annoying spot Azelf could find on short notice.

"Ask away, kid," she said.

"First off," I took a deep breath, "what's the deal with you and Dusknoir. And you better tell me everything, because I know when you lie."

Of course, I couldn't actually tell since it would send me into a panic attack, but she didn't need to know that. Mesprit's tails twitched, seemingly pleased with my half-truth.

"So you want my entire life story?" Mars asked, seemingly amused. "There's a joke in there about wining and dining me before getting everything out of me, but alas, you're too young."

My nose wrinkled in disgust. "Stop fucking playing." My hand hovered over Sweetheart's Pokeball, to Mimi's dismay. "Last chance."

Thankfully, she flinched first. Her giving up was accompanied by a disturbing creak in the trees despite none of them having moved even a centimeter, and I inched a little closer to her and Mesprit.

"Okay, I'll tell you… everything," she sighed, looking older than she, or at least her body was. Late teens, if I had to guess. "First, I guess you should get some context, if this is going to be a proper story."

"Great, she loves those!" Mesprit beamed with a little twirl.

"I was born in… well, I don't really know the exact year, but it was in Johto near the end of the war. Never knew my parents." I rolled my eyes thinking I was going to get some sort of sob story, but let her go on. "Pretty sure they died due to a bombing during Kanto's breakthrough around Mount Silver's flanks late in the war, or maybe the Zapdos that fried parts of Goldenrod, it was never really confirmed, but that doesn't really matter." She waved a hand and snorted. "I grew up in an orphanage, but I ran away when I was twelve or so. There are thousands of stories like mine, but I lived off the streets of Goldenrod and made friends with a Jigglypuff who'd perform to people in exchange for food."

I was… surprised that she would just go over meeting her first Pokemon so quickly, like it didn't even matter. Her being originally from Johto wasn't something I'd even begun to expect, given that neither she or Mars had had a distinguishable accent.

That was ignoring the bigger fact that she was… over seventy years old, technically. Either that, or right under.

"I joined him for a while. I'd dance and do tricks while he sang. Flips and the like." A seemingly genuine smile slipped on her face as she reminisced. At least that explained Mars' athleticism and coordination. "It worked for a while until you know, one thing leads to another and I realize Jigglypuff's good at making people do what he wants with his voice, and suddenly, I'm a wanted criminal for stealing around a bit!" she feigned a gasp, which was a horrible sound with the distortion on her voice.

"So you just immediately became a criminal?" I said.

"Well, yes. It was more money than I'd ever seen in my life. Unfortunately, when one becomes a criminal, it gets exceedingly difficult to actually get out of that life. You know I wasn't about to go to prison."

"Prison? Weren't you a kid?"

"I was twelve, but this was also post-war Johto. They don't fuck around," Mars said. "Or I guess didn't. Though looking back, I might have been offered an olive branch to put my skills to work, but I was a child. I was scared. So crime leads to more crime, and you know, I catch more Pokemon. First, an Oddish that was mighty useful at knocking people out en masse with powder moves, and I rob a breeding home and get myself a Vulpix. Wanted to sell her back at first, but I got attached."

"When does Dusknoir come in?" I asked, impatient.

The woman touched her fingers with a hand, and I could already picture the smug smirk on her face. "I thought you wanted everything? I'm trying to survive, here, it's important for you to get the full context so you judge me adequately."

"I was going to skip ahead anyway," Mars kept going with a shrug. "I guess I was around fifteen or so? When people started coming to me for jobs. I had a reputation around Johto for being good at stealing things." Her story kind of reminded me of Abel's, though the path they took was wildly different. "Most of my employers were other criminals, but sometimes I'd even get the clans to hire me for… well, you know."

"No. I don't know."

"Right, I forget that decades have passed. Kidnappings, mostly," she sighed. "I wonder if they still do those. Oh, I wasn't good enough to raid their strongholds or clan halls— I mean, the Blackthornes live in a fortress built into a mountain, and that's just one clan. But when they were in transit, they were free game. Tough work with their bodyguards, but nothing I couldn't handle. They liked to use kidnapped children prodigies as bargaining chips, especially when they were recovering their numbers from the war. Most of it was just play fighting, really, except when they asked me to go after the Kantoan clans. Their governments were supposed to be working toward unification, but you don't remove centuries of bad blood with a fucking treaty." She turned her face slightly sideways, so she could see me out of the corner of her eye. "I guess I was around your age when I committed my first murder."

I swallowed. "And what are you implying?"

"I'm just trying to find some common ground between us."

I pushed her forward, and she nearly bumped against a tree. "Keep looking in front. I'm nothing like you."

"Okay. Can I continue, at least, or are you just going to slit my throat already?"

I grunted in affirmation.

"Now me, I had no loyalties. I was basically a mercenary, hitman, cleaner, or whatever you want to call it. So eventually the smell of money attracted me to Kanto, where I did some jobs for Team Rocket, who was blowing up in the post war years. Nothing like misery and poverty to make organizations like them swell in members. Never joined 'em, mind you. Once they realized I wasn't, they tried to kill me to eliminate the competition, and I did a little oopsie that kind of forced me to flee the region entirely."

"What little oopsie?"

"I, uh, killed an Administrator, and Madame Boss put a hit on my head that had even some of the clans looking to kill me." Some clans had been working with Team Rocket? What a mess. "Anyway, next thing I know I'm running for my life every day, and this is where I got the majority of these." She turns my way again and points toward a scar on her leg, but before I could say anything her back was facing me once more. "I get on a boat to Sinnoh. I mean it's either that or Hoenn, but Hoenn's a bitch to get to while Sinnoh had their borders basically open because there was a famine going on after an Articuno wrecked the place, and there had basically been a little ice age up there." She laughed, pausing for a few moments. "I get it, though! Better shirk off your masses to Johto so you can actually feed whoever remains."

I didn't know very much about history outside Sinnoh and some Unovan thanks to having read some books with Buddy, but even then I knew who Madame Boss, or Sidonia Campione, was. She'd been Team Rocket's founder who had seen the post-war chaos and used it as an opportunity to get rich, and she did, becoming one of the wealthiest people to have ever existed. That was, of course, until her son Giovanni coup'ed her and turned Team Rocket into a fascist, ultranationalist Kantoan organization angry at their 'equal' status with Johto that still kept its mafia roots. Him being the leader was something that was only discovered much later, though. He'd been the Viridian City Gym Leader. The thought of a country with such disunity made my head spin.

A funny thing was, the change in leadership was when the government actually started to try dealing with them, and even then, it was only Lance who had ripped off the band-aid and started a campaign to end them no matter the cost just two years after ascending to his position.

"Fire, Ice and Thunder can get a little feisty sometimes," Mesprit said before stopping. They closed their eyes, which shone so bright they were visible through their eyelids, and pointed to the left. We followed after them. "They held back because extinction was off the table, since that's against the Rules. Still, I really thought they were going to wipe you lot back to the stone age!" Mesprit giggled. "Fire and Thunder wanted to, but Ice would have tattled and involved Lugia."

Mars' face darkened at that, and I rubbed my neck uncomfortably. Information on Lugia was a lot more obscured than what experts called its counterpart in Ho-oh. People did see it every few decades all over the world when it came back up from the depths of the ocean. The last time it had surfaced was before I'd been born. I remembered from history class that Leo Florentius had been the Champion, both during and after the war. I remembered seeing his portrait when I'd visited the part of the Hall of Fame at the League, or at least the bit available to the public. He'd been a dark-eyed man with sleek, pulled back hair and a Salamence by his side. Somewhat like Craig, if a little more sinister looking.

His legacy had been tarnished by how badly he handled the famine, but it would still take decades for Gabriel Radetic to take his place.

Even though I hated Mars, it was at times like these that I realized how chaotic the post-war years must have been. All of the dead, the lawlessness, the disarray, having to bring humanity back from the brink of societal collapse, and having to go to sleep at night knowing that it might happen again any day now. And to think that had been them holding back. Today, humanity knew better than to start a senseless war over some border dispute, or at least I hoped so.

And to think that we were currently dealing with forces above those who had nearly ended us. At least the conversation was distracting me from this horrifying place. It was maybe just me, but the forest was subtly changing. The trees were growing thicker and the space between them tighter, almost like they wanted to suffocate us.

Mars explained how her arrival in Sinnoh was marked with her deciding to lay low. She lived in a cabin off-route near the woods east of Sandgem, which was the city she'd arrived at. Instantly, I was reminded of the cabin I'd been in when fighting her over control for Mesprit, with all the trinkets and heirlooms from people she had killed.

"I was still doing some work, but I was laying low. There are two kinds of mercenaries, you know?" She held up her hand in a 'V' sign. "Those who foster a reputation to get more jobs and money quickly. A lot of them want to retire early in Alola or some bullshit like that, but it's not like their old rivals and enemies won't pay to see them killed. Tropical paradise full of war criminals or not, you'd have to stay on your toes the rest of your life to see if someone you screwed over comes knocking some day." She shuddered when a tree pulsated next to her. "Though I guess these days, those war criminals must have croaked. Their kiddies and grandkids must be running around, though. Isn't that a funny thought," Mars snorted. "Second, there are the mercs who don't care about any of that. The ones you never hear about, who are only hired through word of mouth. They make money slower, but it's a lot safer overall. I decided to go with the second option, this time, since the first one nearly bit me in the ass. Or wait, it did!" She lifted her jacket, showing off the massive bite mark on her.

Her 'humor' was getting on my nerves.

So she had worked quiet jobs. That, plus her being so old explained a lot about Sinnoh's government not knowing about who she was. The fact that she skimmed over a lot of them, it was easy to see that murder was involved. When she spoke about it, she seemed proud of her job. "I liked it, for a while. I was good at it," she would say with a wide smile. She seemed oblivious to the fact that I was judging her for it, or maybe she just didn't care, which was surprising. I believed she would have been better at manipulating me, but talking about her job appeared to be a blind spot of some sort. She couldn't keep herself from looking satisfied with what she'd done, and her steps gained confidence with each success story.

"Eventually, I stumbled across a Duskull when I was working on scoping out a job near Hearthome. Figured he was a spy at first, so I killed him and bailed, but he somehow found me again a few months later. He was just… hanging around in the cabin, really. Later, when I asked what about me intrigued him, he said that I had an aura of death around me. Like, he could tell I killed a lot of people, and he wanted someone like that because he was too weak to do it himself. 'Figured he was funny and I wanted someone like that. Ninetales could always translate whatever the hell it was he was saying."

I bit my lip when she stopped to take a shaky breath. Even she wasn't immune to the pain of recounting painful events.

"The reason he wanted me was because he could harvest the souls of the people I killed to make himself stronger faster. For around two years, everything went well, and he was a Dusclops when it all went wrong." She swayed her head to the side and sighed. "I can't blame it entirely on him, though. I was at fault, too."

"What happened?" I demanded.

"He wanted more souls, he wanted to grow faster, and I accepted. I took more jobs without laying low in between because everything had been easy up to that point, and that implied more risk. You know, it only takes one bad job. One bad decision for it all to blow up in your face." She exhaled heavily before continuing. "I got a cold splash of water on my face and came across a trainer who was stronger than I was. It got Wigglytuff killed."

I blinked. "You didn't die?"

"Not yet. I didn't even get hurt. But my starter's death made me decide to retire. It's enough to knock the wind out of your sails and make you go from the top of the world to the deepest depths of hell. Dusclops had other ideas. He wanted to evolve, and he was just so close, but I forbade him. I told him that if he went out without my permission and came back a Dusknoir, he'd be on his own from now on for endangering us."

For endangering us, not because she was done with killing. As harsh as it may have been, I believed that the death of a Pokemon might have changed who she was, and could be.

"Now it's getting interesting!" Mesprit clapped their hands. "Go on!"

"Dusclops had grown obsessed with me. He never connected much with the rest of the team other than me, and that was partly my fault. He was split between the need to evolve and wanting my attention and love," Mars said dryly. "So he decided he would have both. I would always use him as a guard at night so he could keep watch around the cabin, and even more so now that I thought I had someone after me, but when I woke up, he was a Dusknoir standing right next to me. The next thing I know, I'm dead."

"Just… just like that?"

She snapped her finger, a twisted sound that carried further than it should have. "Just like that. I don't know why he waited for me to wake up. Maybe he was psyching himself up to do it, but in the end, he stole my soul, and he did the same for the rest of my Pokemon later. He'd even taken Wigglytuff's, which he hadn't told me." Her first clenched, digging nails into her palms. "I knew he lusted for power— I knew it was why he had joined me in the first place, but I never thought he would go this far. Now he and I were linked forever."

"We're almost there," Mesprit said. Azelf was close.

"So you've been trapped inside Dusknoir since then?" I asked.

"Yes. He was less of a dick about it than he could have been. It didn't hurt, and he let me see through his eyes most days. He liked using that as a bargaining chip later on. Sometimes I'd get to talk to the people who fell in, too, before the pain started for them. You go a little insane when all you have is you and your thoughts… but I held on. For Mars."

Right. Natalia. She was Natalia. Her being able to see and hear from Dusknoir's perspective explained the fact that she knew my name, though. Mars no doubt blabbered about me non-stop to any who would listen.

"Dusky used pieces of me to recreate his ideal version of me. The first few attempts were… abominations. Barely human, malformed and they looked like they'd fit right in here." Natalia gestured around the woods. "They only ever lasted a few hours, but he got better at it, slowly but surely. Every instance of her, he would wipe her memories and drop in shitty situations so he could swoop in and save her to better control her from the jump. He would bring back my Pokemon, too, though none of them behaved like they used to. I could never talk with her unless he carried her inside of him, which he almost never did, and even then, he just made her forget every time, so I gave up."

I wanted to fight her on this, but how? There was nothing she could have done.

"So I gave in, much to Dusky's pleasure. I played the role, acted like I supported everything he did in hopes that I would at least get some leniency. And I did… I did really support every Mars. They were just kids who didn't know any better."

"They were mass murderers."

"Who were manipulated and groomed by all around them," she sharply answered. "But it doesn't matter, now. They're gone."

"How many of them were there?"

"Twenty-three in total," Natalia said. "The latest was the best iteration and might have actually made it twenty years before shriveling up and dying. I don't think I'll last that long."

We killed Mars before she could even hope to die of old age, thank the Legendaries. "And where does Team Galactic fit into this? How did Dusknoir meet Cyrus?"

"Dusknoir still wasn't satisfied with the clones he made of me. Not only was he trying to make them immortal, they were too… too cartoonish. He wanted a killer, yes, someone he could manipulate, yes but not a child, and he was going to use the New World to change her to what he wanted. To really make me without any of the bits he disliked. As for Cyrus—"

"There!" Mesprit screamed with a hand pointed forward.

This place was no different than the endless stretch of forest which had come before. There was no clearing, no extra spacing in the trees, no light shining down Azelf. Instead, the Guardian was floating next to one of the trees, curled up in a ball with their eyes closed. They were perfectly still. Not even their two tails were swaying. Mesprit dashed their sibling's way with bright eyes and happiness eschewed on their face.

"He met Dusknoir by complete coincidence," Natalia finished. "He found Cyrus while he was exploring some ruins dedicated to the Lake Guardians near route 216." She nudged her chin toward the two Legendaries. "Cyrus beat him, but you know how he talks a fuck ton?"

"Uh, I guess?"

"Dusknoir heard about this New World thing while he was being beaten to death and it intrigued him. The rest is history, even if they never did fully trust each other. Dusky couldn't have cared less about the world itself. Just me."

Just like Mesprit, the world around Azelf filled in with brilliant colors as the Guardian slowly blinked and awoke. Before they could even talk, Emotion grabbed them by the neck— never mind, that was a hug, albeit a forceful one. Azelf's annoyed groans were overshadowed by Mesprit's giggles as they tumbled through the air.

"Azelf, Azelf, Azelf!" Mesprit laughed. "I missed you!"

Finally, Willpower managed to tear their sibling's hands away. They didn't look annoyed like I figured they'd be. In fact, they looked quite satisfied. I thought there'd be some catching up to do, but Azelf instantly grasped the situation, as if just being in the Distortion World was enough to understand everything what was happening.

"None of this would have happened if you hadn't been a meanie to your Shard." Mesprit hung on Azelf's shoulder from behind, their cheek rubbing against their sibling's head. "You picked her already, what's the point of giving her the cold shoulder?"

"She died. She is no longer a Champion,"
Azelf brusquely said. "Shards leave you after death. In my controlled state, I simply could not recognize her. Of course I would have opened the door had I done so. And she no longer properly embodies Willpower, now. Her mindset has drastically changed."

"She—" I stopped when the God stared at me, tongue-tied. It was hard to defend my girlfriend when I was getting glared at by the embodiment of Willpower. Mimi hid behind strands of my hair.

"But you still dislike her when she's entertaining, at least!" Mesprit smiled, clinging tighter to Azelf. "You should be friends!"

"Absolutely not."


Mesprit sighed. "You're such a killjoy!" They flew my way, snatching Mimi from my shoulder. "Here, hold this ingot, it'll make you feel better and cheer you up!" Mesprit shoved Mimi into Azelf's hands.

"Wha—" Azelf held the steel type, staring at them intently. Mimi trembled under their gaze with distressed squeals. Azelf's face turned utterly calm, and their tails intertwined together until they realized what was happening. "Mesprit, what is this?! Why does it hold so much power over me?! It's just Meltan!"

"That's ingot."


"They're Mimi, actually…" I tried to correct. Meltan shrunk in Azelf's grip. Being so close to their judging eyes was uncomfortable. "And I'd like it if you gave them back to me."

"Ingot's a very nice and soft Pokemon," Mesprit said, ignoring Mimi's name. They grabbed the steel type again and gave them back to me. "But it doesn't like you, apparently. Not like it likes me."

"Wh—what?"

"Our connection is special. Don't be jealous, Azelf,"
Mesprit chided in a condescending tone. "Not everyone can be as charming with mortals as I am. I'll be your ingot from now on!" They latched to their sibling's back once more.

While the two played around a bit, Natalia offered me a passing glance. "So? Do I pass and get to live?"

I closed my eyes and listened to Mimi warble in my ear.

Break the cycle. That was what our bond meant.

Yes. I would be a hypocrite if I just killed her now after telling Zoroark to give up on his endless war. "I'm handing you off to the League." Hopefully they'd keep her for a while.

Natalia didn't look entirely satisfied with that answer, but she knew it to be better than the alternative, so she simply grunted in affirmation.

Now that Mesprit was finally done, Azelf sighed. "Fine. Then let's go find Uxie…"



This place.

The endless expanse of sky was a gradient of darkening hues, from soft silver at the horizon to a charcoal canopy overhead that masked the shapes of the swirling clouds. Cecilia could see the thin, blackened veins that littered this place, hiding under every rock, floor or tree. They throbbed and vibrated with each of her steps, though she had long stopped walking. For all this place made her feel at ease and welcome, like a rest stop after a long, arduous walk, even she could not hide from the madness that lurked in every corner. When she had first scouted the edges of the moderately-sized island she was currently on, she had gotten the urge to JUMP JUMP JUMP JUMP JUMP JUMP YOU ARE UNWORTHY YOU ARE WORTHLESS NO ONE WILL EVER LOVE YOU AGAIN YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED DEAD— she clenched at her forehead and closed her eyes so she could stop her head from spinning. She'd almost gotten up on her lonesome, but Toxicroak and Talonflame were here for her. With a retracted claw, Toxicroak held a hand over Cecilia's shoulder while Talonflame gently pecked her leg.

They were so good to her, even after she had betrayed them. Was she deserving of such love, after failing them again and again?

Those thoughts were thankfully not as loud as they had been, so she chased them to the corner of her mind, but she found that keeping the negative sentiments in a locked box had grown exponentially more difficult after her resurrection. It was as if they could act independently and come out of her mouth by their lonesome, now.

"Thank you, darlings," she said, stroking Talonflame's back. She would have done the same to Toxicroak, had the fighting type not been prickly about physical contact due to her dry skin. Plus, she was rather jumpy, as one should be in this place. Talonflame was handling the mental toll of being in the Dusk much better than her companion.

Yes, she had figured it out. Beyond her gut feeling, it had been easy enough after she'd seen a group of ghosts hiding below an overhang that swallowed all light. She had tried to talk to them, but they'd let her know that she was not welcome. That had been expected. She was, after all, an abomination stuck between the mind of a ghost and a girl. That thought was another one she would have usually kept to unfurl later. Her clawed face stung when she grimaced.

"We can't stay here, can we?" No, she could not. Just as she was stuck here, the others were as well, and they would grow mad, sooner or later. There was no particular direction she had in mind, nor did she actually know where she was going, but having a plan and doing something was better than rotting here with her thoughts.

Mira's hyperfixation on that waste of oxygen of an uncle was worrisome, but unlike Grace, at least she was fresh. She had made it up the mountain with minimal fighting, and the mental fatigue wasn't as high. Grace, though, was tired. The kind of tired that gnawed at your very bones and spirit like a parasite.

Maylene…

The worry that should have been there for her was completely absent, as if it had never existed in the first place, and she could not conjure it either. It was not as if Cecilia wanted harm to befall upon her, even if that niceness of hers was so grating (that might change when, or if she saw her again). She wished that she was safe and sound. It was simply as if Cecilia had forgotten how to worry for her.

The Unovan stood, pushing herself up with her cold, numb hands, and worked to keep her feet steady against the throbbing earth. Talonflame tilted her head and squawked, as if to ask how she was going to navigate.

"It will have to be Zolst," she deadpanned. Her Talonflame was, after all, too small to fly on. "We'll have to go slow and use you as a lab Rattata, I'm afraid, but I'll recall you if anything goes wrong. I'm sorry to ask so much of you again."

Hydreigon's name had Toxicroak shiver in doubt, then croak out what Cecilia had learned were obscenities. Even Talonflame, as level-headed as she usually was, appeared skittish. Her talons sharp scraped harshly against the ground.

"He will be angry," Cecilia agreed. "It is his right to be angry and to never think of me as a worthy trainer again, but he is our only hope."

They knew she was correct. Before heading to any edges, she would have to familiarize Zolst with this place, which was going to be tough. The dragon's Pokeball felt heavy with the weight of her sins, yet he was released all the same. The last thing the Hydreigon remembered was being released on the seventh layer to be told that she had indeed survived, but before that, he had thrown his entire body toward Lehmhart for daring to execute her plan, or in other words, her suicide.

Fury lined Zolst's eyes, and the dragon snarled at her, sending globules of spit at her clothes and bandaged face. Teeth snapped inches from her face, and she could see the beginning of a Dragon Pulse gathering in his central head. This was, of course, all for show, so she barely even flinched. When he noticed where they were, he stopped, eyes squinting, and stared at his surroundings with his six wings fluttering nervously. His heads twitched uncomfortably, and it was her hand on his cheek that calmed him for a moment.

"I don't expect you to forgive me. That's okay." His scales were coarse and rough, but they centered her. Her finger passed over the groove of a wound given to him by Skuntank on his neck. "But at least help me. Please."

His eyes stayed cold and angry at her, and one of his mouths pulled her hand away from his neck. She felt the teeth dig into her, poking through the fabric of her coat and inner layers. Yet Cecilia knew from the look in his eyes, that he had accepted to help, even though their issues were not over.

She didn't deserve her Pokemon.

"Thank you. This place, it's…"

Cecilia explained to him that this was the Dusk, with Talonflame and Toxicroak's help, and she warned Hydreigon of the way it could affect him. Their species were unstable Pokemon, often prone to bouts of rage and destruction, so crossing was going to be tough. She might need to recall him after each one so he could rest and recuperate in his Pokeball.

The nearest island they'd spotted was a similar side to this one, with rivers that went nowhere, yet everywhere, and that changed positions every time she stopped paying attention, reshaping the landscape on a whim in a way that made her head hurt. Trees grew out of the water, their hair-like leaves barely above the riverline, but she couldn't pay too much attention. Out of sight, out of mind. Not a very accurate statement, given that this place had a way of worming its madness into you even if you weren't paying any attention to it. Everyone had their limit. Eventually, you would go insane. It was just a matter of when.

Having recalled Toxicroak so she could take a breather, and looking directly at Hydreigon instead of the emptiness ahead, Cecilia ordered Talonflame to fly to the island in front of them, Pokeball in hand. It was now, that she was forced to LOOK at it, as if her face had been wrested and locked in one direction. LOOK, the Dusk yelled at her. LOOK and allow despair to take you, and why not? Who else would she have after this was over? What had all of this fighting brought her other than opportunities to disappoint the people she cared about? She should JUMP and get it over with—

A roar from Hydreigon snapped her back to reality. Flight in this dimension was an awkward and difficult affair, and even taming the winds could only do so much against an ever-changing gravity. Talonflame took it slow, but even then, she was flipped on her head and starting falling upward until Cecilia recalled her. It was awful and time consuming, but they needed to figure out a safe passage— and that was if the air was going to sit still and not permanently change like it looked it was doing.

After ten minutes or so of trial and error, a somewhat stable corridor was found. Not wanting to let her chance slip her by, she hoisted herself on top of Hydreigon and the dark type took flight.

Ever so suddenly,

Every direction she turned looked the same, an infinite expanse of nothingness that offered no solace, no escape, no sense. The feeling of emptiness was profound, a gnawing void that settled deep in her chest. It was as if the very essence of the Distortion World was leeching away at her soul. It was a soul made of COWARDICE, for she had seen the possibilities lurking within. Three other paths laid out in front of her, when she had witnessed Dialga. The silence was absolute; a deafening quiet that pressed against her ears and made her own thoughts echo painfully within her mind. There were no sounds of life, no whispers of wind, just an all-encompassing void that swallowed every noise but the whispers of the distant spirits that tormented her. Cecilia did her best to ignore the confusing geometries below of islands folding onto themselves as gravity pulled her and Hydreigon to the side. Her hands tightly gripped his upper wings and she nearly hurled when Zolst was thrown like a ragdoll, yet her grip was made of iron.

Zolst crashed into a river, and the force of the impact sent her tumbling deep into the water. It was dark, so, so dark. Opening her eyes only revealed a swathe of dark gray currents and bubbles swarming every inch around her head. Water seeped past her bandages, into her wounds and became a part of her, something fuzzy wrapped around her ankles and wrists.

FACE IT.

YOU BELONG HERE.


She fought against it. Pushed and pulled in every direction until exhaustion took hold of her and all of the air in her lungs was gone. She yelled for Zolst, a wordless scream swallowed by the seemingly endless water. It was dragging her down, down, down into the depths that never ended.

BREATHE.

Cecilia thrashed, but she was going to have to. Her chest felt like it was caving itself in, her lungs begged for relief, the pounding of her heart echoed in her ears and her muscles felt so tight.

BREATHE.

What was going to happen when she did? Not just drown. This water wasn't normal, it would take her and change her. What was happening to Zolst?

BREA

Something cold spread across her body, focused at the end of her limbs, and her slimy shackles shattered like glass. Screams spread throughout the water, and Cecilia gazed upwards. She was no longer sinking— in fact, the surface was growing closer to her on its own. She could tell with the subtle gloom the sky above carried, a light gray to clash against the blackness around her.

She emerged from the water and slumped against the harsh shore, hard enough to nearly scrape the skin off her elbows and arms. She felt a nibble on the back of her head and sighed in relief when she recognized the pattern of Zolst's teeth. He was okay. She coughed for what seemed like an eternity, unable to chase the strange aftertaste out of her mouth. Neither her clothes nor her skin was actually wet, but countless slimy fibers of dark hair left the back of her throat with each cough. Around her wrists and legs were the frozen remains of the same hair-like substance making up the leaves of the trees. Her hand went to her Pokeballs and was glad to see them still on her belt.

When Cecilia finally turned around, she found the outline of a familiar face, fading at her edges. Froslass hovered barely an inch above ground, her spectral form flickering with an eerie, diminished light. Spirits and darkened smoke continuously bled off of her like a sieve leaking water, but with a heavy… well, not breath, but something akin to it, they solidified and clung to her form.

She had nearly died again, or worse, but Cecilia barely reacted. She knew she was still flesh and blood, that she could still die just as easily as a normal human, but the fear of it was gone, so there was no elation or relief when she spoke. "Froslass?" It was a species' name, yet the word carried specific meaning. The difference between a name and a Name. "Is that you?"

The ghosts' head nodded a fraction of an inch, as if each movement conserved energy.

"Thank you for saving me, but how—" Another series of coughs interrupted her. "How did you find me?"

Froslass lethargically moved an arm up and pointed her way. Me? Cecilia thought. Had she had another ghost, they might have been able to communicate, but as it stood, she had no idea what Froslass was saying. Slowking could have perhaps worked, but he was unconscious and severely wounded. Hydreigon growled at Froslass, not aggressively, but in a curious, less gravely tone, and she slowly motioned at the ground, as if to tell them to stay put for the time being. So they listened, and since there was strength in numbers, she released Talonflame and Toxicroak again, who were glad to see that she was still alive after her crossing.

She did not know how much time passed, and they spent it by having Cecilia talk about her trek up the mountain, but Froslass was looking a tad healthier now. More solid. Still, she had possibly delayed her revival by days to save her, and it showed in how weak she still appeared. The ice type slowly raised an arm and traced a letter in the air. Then another, and another, and for once, Cecilia was glad that Lopunny had been so engrossed in online culture that the rest of Denzel's team had acquired bits and pieces of it through osmosis. It helped with the shortened letters.

Ppl not sposed 2 b here. Spirits talk, like mind melds, lashing out. They point me the right way.

"Okay. Okay," she repeated, with a bit more force. Exhausting, when not directed at hating someone else or herself. "There must be news about the others, then?"

Froslass' tired eyes twitched, and she looked annoyed that she would have to use her arms again.

Heard Grace and Mira r traveling with Guardians. Safe. Maylene and Charon solo.

Cecilia clicked her tongue. Why even bring Charon into this, as if she would waste her energy trying to find him? Mira, bless her heart, was going to go after him regardless. Years of her quest had culminated to this very moment, and she would not let even the Dusk get in-between her and her uncle.

"Are you implying," she coldly began. "That I should try to find Maylene?"

Froslass slowly shrugged, while Talonflame cawed while flapping her wings, as if to say that obviously they should go after the defenseless girl without her Pokemon with her. Even Toxicroak, that traitor, just crossed her arms and nodded. Since he was still pissed at her, Zolst also agreed, knowing that it would annoy her. Cecilia felt the bones at her neck give, and her head tilted to the side more than what was healthy as she breathed out a heavy, tired sigh.

"Do you know where she is?"

Froslass answered with a coy smirk. I can figur tht out 4 u =)

How like her, to expend energy on a smiley.



Nowhere to stay.

Nowhere to hide.

Maylene's efforts to make a place to stay hidden had been met with failure. Through her fear, she channels aura to her fingers. Wisps of cold, blue light that seems to chase away the faded colors of this place. Her fingers dug, dug, dug into the stone like it was made of sand, yet it kept reforming around her. She needs a hole to crawl in. A hole to stay still. A hole to stay away from THEIR EYES. The feeling of being seen was everywhere at once, all around her. She hated being seen, hated being the center of attention, hated the way they talked about her performance. Was she worthy? Was she enough? Did she live up to the expectations of her father? Day in and day out spent working, and she still felt like she didn't. That she never would.

She heard them laugh. Giggle like they enjoyed her suffering. The threats, the hatred, the way she could feel each individual stare when she battled, it all came back like a wave crashing over her.

So Maylene dug, and when that stopped working, she punched until the ground shook and lashed out at her with the twisted laugh of her audiences back at the Gym. She could see their faces in the earth, smiles stretching up unnaturally long. How much time had she been digging? Her hands and fingers felt numb, but again, she was too strong to feel any pain beyond discomfort. So fake. You're like an egg, her father would say. You look tough, but you're soft inside and too easy to crack, and just with words at that. Get up. Start over. Her head hung in shame, and she replied, "yes sir!"

START OVER.

She dug.

START. OVER.

She dug.

START! OVER!

She failed to dig and sobbed.

TOO EASY TO CRACK. WE'LL CONTINUE TOMORROW.

"There you are."

Maylene froze, but she had been too entranced to scream. For what had felt like an eternity, she had forgotten where she was, and that her Dad hadn't even been behind her. Why would he even want her to dig? Maylene's hand went up to her face, which she found out was wet. The Gym Leader turned sharply and raised her fists and found Cecilia standing behind her, her Hydreigon, Talonflame and Toxicroak in tow, along with what looked like an exhausted-looking Froslass slumped against the ground.

"No need to act all threatening," Cecilia said. Her voice was… wrong, but seeing a familiar face was still more than Maylene could have hoped for. "Or are you going to strike me?"

The displeasure on her face was clear. In other, non world-defining event circumstances, Maylene might have said something, but not only that, but she had also died and came back. That fact, plus the fact that they were in some kind of strange dimension (the dilapidated Froslass had her thinking it was the Dusk, but she wasn't certain) meant that she could always forgive.

Having already lowered her fists, Maylene answered, "I'm… sorry, I was seeing and hearing things. You startled me."

Cecilia frowned. "Maybe I should have waited for you to tear your fingers off, then."

"That's not what I—"

The dark-skinned Unovan took a few commanding steps forward. Cecilia towered over her, even when her back and shoulders were hunched and her neck was craned down at her. Maylene remembered doing some reading on Cecilia's family, before she even got involved with the League, because her brother was Mark Obel. Anyone would have been at least somewhat curious. The Obels were a family of giants, with even the women often growing over six feet tall. Cecilia had not been an exception to that rule, and the white eyes and the bloody, bandaged face made her even more intimidating.

Maylene could have snapped her in half if she wanted, even in her tired state, but she was still unnerving.

"Listen, I— we've gotten off the wrong foot since your death." Arceus, it felt weird to say that, but was true. To Grace at least, she was still relatively normal, though with some quirks, but to her? "But like, I think we can start over and figure out—"

"No."

"...no?"

"No," Cecilia said again. "Now, there are two options available to us. I have petitioned Denzel's Froslass—" Who was dead, so this was definitely the Dusk. "—and she can communicate with dead ghosts or spirits to figure out where the others are. They are safe."

Maylene's breathed a sigh of relief at that. She hadn't had the opportunity to worry, but the thought of Grace going as insane as she had been made her queasy. That girl had many demons ready to be unburied. She felt bad for not worrying for Mira as much, but she knew her far less.

"She needs time to rest regardless, but we either we wait here for them to reach us, which they should be able to with Mesprit and Uxie, or we could use the last of their energy to try to get closer to one of them."

Froslass rolled her eyes and slumped even further, but nodded.

"What about Azelf?" Maylene asked.

She saw her Pokemon freeze first, and then Talonflame patted a wing on her trainer's lower back. She only realized she'd put a foot in her mouth when Cecilia's face contorted into a mixture of pain and rage.

"Why, thank you for reminding me of my failures," she sharply hissed. "No matter what happened to Azelf, they won't come for me. They hate me. The little potential I had, I squandered by giving up when fighting Jupiter, and I lost nearly my entire Shard for it. I might have doomed the world because of it."

She stared down at her feet. "Sorry. That's not what I meant, I was just wondering."

Silence settled in. Creeping doubts came back to haunt her, and she hugged herself in a search for comfort.

"Just… decide," Cecilia said.

For the first time in a long while, Maylene gazed past Cecilia and observed the expanse beyond her small, featureless island. A pit in her stomach formed, and she felt a sudden pull. In a way, her nightmarish visions of her father might have saved her from a worse fate. And she'd crossed it on her Hydreigon? Without a harness, or without losing herself to… to everything?

Maylene wasn't sure if she was capable of that feat.

"We can wait, if that's not too much. I don't think I can handle going out there," she muttered.

"I offered you the choice, so yes, you're good," Cecilia said. She dropped down on the floor so suddenly Maylene thought she was passing out, but instead, she decided to sit. The floor vibrated below her, but she didn't seem to care much.

After her episode, Maylene wanted the least amount of contact with the ground possible. Cecilia stayed silent, hugging her knees and eyes blinking too few times to be natural. It reminded her of Grace in battle, though the cause was different here. Maylene had seen how intense her stare could get when she was fighting during the battle with Mars or with Saturn, where she managed to keep track of so much it would have been dizzying for her without aura.

Silence settled in for the two of them, though the Pokemon kept speaking among themselves. Hydreigon kept sneaking in enraged stares at his trainer while Talonflame and Toxicroak mostly chatted together in a way that made her miss her own Pokemon. Even if it felt good being around people, the silence was awkward. Maylene had always been an extrovert. She had to be, or her father never would have let her hear the end of it. Silence in a conversation, to her, was the sign of her screwing up somewhere.

"Did you… did you see those visions? About, um, alternate timelines, I think those were?" She fiddled her thumbs and fingers, waiting for an answer, but Cecilia just quietly stared up ahead. "I did. It was— it feels like a dream now, but I know the three other me's were real. I spoke to them."

Finally, a reaction, though a subtle one. Cecilia glanced her way. "You too, then? What… when did it split, for you?"

"It's a bit weird," she said. "Actually, thinking back on it, it makes sense, but in the moment, I guess I didn't know she had such an impact on me. Grace, that is."

Her companion's eye twitched, and she went back to staring off into the distance. "Of course, that's it," she muttered, just loud enough to hear. Then, she scoffed. "Your Gym Battle."

Just when Maylene had been about to keep going, their island began to shake and move, as if it had a mind of its own. It was difficult to tell which direction it was going exactly. Maylene struggled to figure out if it was up, down, right or left. She'd lost all sense of direction. It was too late to even contemplate moving, now. Getting off the island when it was moving was basically suicide, according to Cecilia, and she'd been the one to travel in-between them, so Maylene was inclined to believe her.

"I kept— kept ending up different depending on how Grace battled me, I guess. One of them, she was nice and lost, the other, she…" Maylene stopped. It hadn't been her, that beatdown had happened to, but it still angered her just thinking about it. "She did something way worse than what happened in our timeline. I don't want to talk about it or believe that was her." She gulped, remembering how that Maylene had screamed at her for even daring to think of Grace as a friend. "The other, she didn't come to battle me at all," Maylene finished.

"And?"

"And what?"

Cecilia ran a hand over Talonflame's feathers, and the flying type let out a satisfied coo that the Distortion World turned into an unpleasant, awful grind. "Did it teach you anything about yourself?"

"Well, that I made the right choice taking a break regardless, given how the one that didn't ended up so… hollowed out." Maylene barely recognized her own self, with how exhausted she had carried herself. "And that Grace could have been my worst enemy or one of my best friends. Closer than even Nia or Candice, apparently." That Maylene had really, really liked Grace.

Though implying that she wasn't already one felt unpleasant. She had to hold back, though, they'd only really gotten to know each other for a week.

Arceus, a single week— or even less if you only counted their ascent up the mountain when they'd met up. It felt like years.

"What about yours?" She quickly cleared her throat with a fist in front of her mouth. "If you don't mind sharing."

Again, Maylene was met with silence, leaving her only with the Dusk's discomforting, howling winds, but it only lasted about twenty seconds until Toxicroak shook her head in disappointment.

"It's not like there's anything else to do," Cecilia said. "Mine is, for better or worse, not linked with Grace at all," she finished that sentence through gnashing teeth. "Though she was present at the time. I used to have this friend, Amy Saunier, who I grew up with. It would be more accurate to call her a Seviper."

Amy Saunier… didn't really ring a bell.

"Who she is doesn't matter," Cecilia said, as if she could read her confusion. "What she did to me is what matters, and how I responded to it."

Maylene had known about Cecilia's attempt to escape to Mount Coronet back when she'd been in Eterna City, since it had made the news. Trainers lost in a cave with no confirmation of whether they were dead or alive made for a very good story, as awful as that sounded. She also knew now that Cecilia had spent so many months talking about her father's abuse that it was him, who had pushed her to run.

What she hadn't known, was that it had been a failed suicide attempt. She'd never mentioned that in any of the interviews or online posts she'd made on the matter.

"Amy, that snake," she seethed, "told me that Abel was going to come for me, and that I could either surrender or be subject to mind control. My reaction to this news is where the split happened." A clenched fist shook above her thigh. "Did you know, that of the three, I am the only one who gave up?"

Before Maylene could even say anything, Cecilia kept rambling, more animated than she'd been since she had found her. "Oh, all of them ran away, of course, but not to die. One took Grace with her, and they stayed on the run for months while our friends helped us with supplies by dropping them off for us. The other went alone, without saying anything— planning to fake her death to protect her friends, and the last also went alone, after telling her friends why she was doing so." She was nearly out of breath. "All of them hoped to come back eventually, when they were stronger or the government or police actually did something. I ran off in hopes of dying. I just… gave up."

"But you fought back!" Maylene tried. "You—"

"Don't give me that. You don't know a thing about me."

Maylene's head jerked back, as if she'd been struck. "I know a thing or two about bad fathers," she glowered. Calling him abusive… no, that felt wrong. It made her feel guilty. "I—I understand being suffocated until you want to run away, even if— even if it never got as far as mind control for me."

Cecilia's face returned to its neutral, blank expression. "I suppose you do. I'd kill mine next year, if I could get away with it, but that's never happening."

Oh.

Right.

Sometimes she forgot who it was, she was talking to. In a way, Maylene wished she was as free from her dad as Cecilia was from hers. She seemed so… what was the word? Independent, maybe. She didn't care what he thought of her any longer or what he had to say about her.

The island had stopped moving, by now, or at least she thought so. The conversation had ended in an awkward spot. Maylene was content to chat with Cecilia's Pokemon instead, even if she barely understood what was being said. Better that than let the thoughts come back. It was a sudden reaction from Cecilia, that had her turn toward the vast expanse of nothing beyond their flat, little island.

Something— no, a path stretched up from under them, but it looked wrong. All bendy and twisty, as if the material had been molded like fabric. Grace followed suit soon after, walking upside down on the path with Meltan in her arms, and she beamed at the sight of them. A glad, yet weary smile that was difficult not to return. So bright. It looked good on her. Sheer relief flooded Maylene's veins, though that could only last so long in the Dusk, apparently. Even Cecilia's face turned pleasant, and she allowed a smile of her own to stretch across her face, one that faltered as soon as she saw who else was with Grace.

Following her were Mesprit, Azelf, and a woman who Maylene didn't recognize— no… that was Mars! Had she regenerated in the Dusk since she was kind of a ghost? Since Grace didn't look worried, Maylene didn't get into a fighting stance. Cecilia could barely stand to look straight when Azelf was staring at her with a piercing gaze that made even Maylene want to look away. A nudge from Mesprit made the Guardian huff.

"Human," Willpower greeted.

"Legends above, I was so fucking worried," Grace sighed. Meltan jumped off her, and she went to hug Cecilia first, a tight and long affair that the Unovan eagerly reciprocated. "Are you okay? Did you see anything— uh, bad? Visions and the like?" She turned to Cecilia's Pokemon. "How are you guys? And Froslass! I hope your first trip to the Dusk is treating you alright."

The ghost, as tired as she was, giggled with a slight nod. They all made small talk while Mesprit hung onto the back of Azelf's neck. Maylene couldn't help but glare at Mars, who met her gaze with a sickening, haughty smirk.

Grace clicked her tongue. "Don't mind her— here." Maylene froze when Grace hugged her, and as one and done and friendly as it was, she barely had time to react.

The warmth stuck around, buzzing inside of her.

Grace clapped her hands. "I guess I have some explaining to do! Here's what happened…"



Finally, Mira had found him. Despite being wounded and his body hurting all over, Uncle Ernie was standing upright. His body swayed like a blade of grass in the wind in-between two of those creepy ass trees, and he kept muttering things under his breath. Ordinarily, her other selves would have crowed within her mind, but they were all but gone, as if the Distortion World had scared them away. Like it had wanted her to be alone. She hesitantly approached her uncle, who seemed to not even be able to see her, even when she waved a hand in front of her face. Dried blood had dribbled down his chin— from those coughs she'd been worrying about. They really needed to get that checked out as soon as possible. Magnezone emitted a low, resonant hum that she could barely recognize, in this place. He had been her primary companion before Uxie showed up. Psychics like Alakazam and Gardevoir were too vulnerable, here, and Gengar kept wanting to go explore on his own, swearing that no, he totally wouldn't get lost.

"I'm sorry Marie. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, Marie, please forgive me—"

Pain spread throughout her chest. That was her mother's name, but was he actually seeing her?

"We took too long. He was alone and couldn't keep the wool over his eyes forever," Uxie said, hovering around Charon's head.

They'd found Mira not long after she had appeared here and filled her in on everything she needed to know about the Distortion World, or Giratina's realm. Of the countless spirits swarming this place, a lot were prone to grow jealous of seeing life again, which was anathema to this dimension, so they would group up and harass you. Make you see, hear, taste, smell or feel things to make your mind fray, and that wasn't even counting the dizzying and maddening way this world functioned. Sometimes, these spirits amalgamated, joining as one to create a true ghost, but that was rarer than not and required coordination and agreement that was rarely ever there. They weren't actually people. They were all of the negative remains a person or Pokemon would leave behind after passing on. The more tragic your death was, the more weight you left behind.

Yeah, Uxie liked to rant and teach people about new things.

"Hold on, let me…"

Mira closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, her uncle's brain shone like a star—

"Mira, do not!" Uxie's yell broke her concentration and wrested her out of Charon's memories.

"Wha—"

"I'm protecting you," the Guardian chided, flicking her forehead. Ow. "It's not just about memories of your deceased parent, but also about not being able to handle what he's seen."

"Can't you just wipe those memories like we've been doing?" she asked.

Supposedly, she'd been shaken by the Distortion World's effects three times, now, but after each instance, Uxie had insisted on ridding her of those traumatizing visions. She hadn't refused. It made navigating through this a whole lot easier.

"If I want to change him when this is all over, than I need practice!" It was difficult not to let anger reach her tone, which Uxie could parse through. "It sucks, but you aren't—" She sucked in air through her teeth. "You aren't going to be here forever. I wish you were, but you aren't."

Uxie quietly observed her through closed eyelids before running a ceramic-like arm through her hair and around her ear. Mimicry, she told herself. They just want to be like Arceus, to be able to love and care for every living being, but they didn't really care that much.

"If you really want, I can do it right this instant. I could go beyond just returning him to a sane state and put a geas in his mind that would have him forget Team Galactic as soon as he exits the Distortion World, or after a certain amount of time passes, or as soon as you say a specific word."

The words took a few seconds to register. Of course, she'd known as soon as Uxie found her that this was an option. There would only be a narrow lapse of time where they would be freed from their slumber, and there was quite literally no better person to ask in the entire world. This wouldn't be like the hasty, brutal processes done by the League's Kadabra. It'd be like… well, just forgetting. Permanent memory loss, and maybe filling in the blanks with new, fake stuff so he wouldn't question where the last few years of his life had gone.

The reason she hadn't asked was, well.

It was scary.

It wasn't about what was right or wrong, or not having his consent. The truth was, she had let go of that long ago, though the thought of her friends judging her for it was still uncomfortable. She wasn't reluctant to use her powers either. She'd fiddled around with it far too much to care any longer, and she wasn't about to become a criminal, digging around strangers' memories.

It was a conversation she'd had with her other selves, that had given her pause. The ones she'd seen because of Dialga.

"It would be best if you hurried. My siblings are nearby and moving fast, and bringing your friends along."

Would he really be the same person, after it?

At first, she fought. Of course, he would be. He would be the same person he'd been before Galactic.

But then, she thought about it. Really thought about it. Let's say, she took the memories from before he ran off to join Team Galactic. That was still the same person who had been depressed, hurt, bitter enough to join the organization in the first place. The same man who had neglected her for months and left her starving so much she stole school lunches in her backpack to eat for dinner, always cold, tasteless and soggy. Ok, then what about going further, when he'd still been trying to code an AI of her mother with his Porygon's help? Would he keep doing that, until he gave up and realized that there was no path forward? Was the right answer then, to take away memories of that project too? How far back would they need to go? Until he didn't even remember who Mira's mother had been? Or maybe, make him forget how much he loved his own sister.

And at that point, well, her own words rang out in her head again.

Would he really be the same person, after it?

It was just… a whole can of worms that she wasn't ready or qualified to deal with.

She was beginning to think that—

That the best path forward was to heal.

"Um, just… get him back to how he was before the Distortion World, please," she said. The words tasted like ash in her mouth. Months of planning, suffering and hard work just to give up at the finish line. "Erase whatever he's seen to make him like this."

"Are you certain?" Uxie pondered.

"Yeah…"

"Very well. I do not understand, but I will respect your choice, Mira. That is what He would do," Uxie said with the hint of a smile. "Look away."

She hastily listened, as did Magnezone, turning away from Uxie as fast as they could. She imagined the Guardian opening their eyes and staring into Charon's, making him forget whatever they wanted with a glance.

Terrifying.

She heard a slump.

"It's done."

Just like that? It hadn't barely taken three seconds! Ernest was lying on his side, having collapsed to the ground and gone unconscious.

"No matter how careful I am, altering memories remains a traumatic event," Uxie said. "Combined with the wounds he suffered, your uncle will most likely be unconscious for the next few days."

Mira nodded, and her eyes went blurry. "Uxie I— thank you so much."

The Guardian's eyeridge rose a smidge. "Was that really enough to warrant tears of joy?"

"I think so," she cried.

It wasn't what she'd wanted at the beginning of everything, but it was…

Closure.



Now that we were in such a large group, Pokemon, people and Gods included, there were no incidents the Distortion World could throw at us we weren't capable of solving. Azelf and Mesprit handled travels (it took a few crossings to get Maylene over the fear of falling), and if a person found themselves enthralled by something, be it a strange tree or rock formation, the void or anything, we were here to pull them out of it. According to Mesprit, we were getting close to Uxie, and both they and Mira were approaching us, too, at a slower pace.

The situation was tense, as I'd expected. Telling Maylene and Cece about Natalia had assuaged their worries some, but just like me, they knew they were facing a killer for hire who had been evil enough to birth Mars. After seeing Beast in Dialga's dimension and having a little time to think, I was a little less quick to judge her for that 'mistake', even if I still despised her guts and how smug she was about everything. Every time I confronted her about it, she would just respond with "I'm just so happy to be alive," in a way so obnoxious I could actually hear it some.

At least Cecilia wasn't picking on Maylene anymore. I'd been surprised to find them together, but Froslass had really pulled her weight.

To fill the dead air and chase the madness away, the topic of timelines came up. Cecilia seemed reluctant to share, even if she did so, and her recounting showed me that I really needed to be there for her after all of this was over, which would hopefully be sooner rather than later. I'd hang on her arm and give her reassurances, which had her smile, but that was a stop-gap measure. She needed to learn how to love herself again.

Maylene's timelines had been intrinsically linked to mine, it turned out. She had seen herself interacting with Beast and Virtuous, or not interacting until the very end, in Anguished's case. She'd been such a footnote in her life that Anguished hadn't even bothered remembering her.

Her idea that we'd been best friends and she hadn't gotten a crush on Virtuous was unexpected. Maybe the Maylene in that timeline hadn't even realized it, and that was why? Either way, I didn't bother mentioning it, since it didn't matter. We were never going to see those timelines again, and those were people very different from us. I was nothing like Virtuous, even if— and it hurt to think this— I sympathized a little. It'd be awkward handling a crush with so much going on. Actually, it had been an emotion even deeper than that. I wasn't a good person like Virtuous was. Trying, yes, but I was not there.

Plus, we'd just reached Mira, Magnezone, Uxie, and an unconscious Charon that Cecilia sneered at. The old man was getting carried by her Gengar, who seemed right at home here and whose grin was as wide as his entire body. I was glad that he was in on of his more… presentable, non-horrifying forms.

I clasped Mira in a hug, and she quietly thanked me. Physical contact was still something she craved. The idea that this was nearly over was giving me some sort of second wind. I just wanted to get out of here at all costs, and see the sun again. Uxie groaned when Mesprit tackled them at full force, saying that they would teach their sibling the greatness of hugs while Azelf grumbled that this behavior was below them.

I hadn't seen them complain when Mesprit had been riding their back, though.

We caught each other up on what had been going on as fast as possible, and Mira was the only one who seemed okay with Natalia's existence. The mercenary was content to stay quiet while we spoke about plans, unwilling to push her luck that much. That self restraint wasn't something Mars would have had.

"So, Uxie, I'll let you do the honors," Mira said.

A hint of a smile flashed on the God's face. "To leave the Distortion World in a rift large enough to fit us, we will need to petition Giratina." Maylene shuffled nervously at that idea, and Natalia swore under her breath. "With me and my siblings, it will be possible. It will just be a matter of how well we've conducted ourselves during our stay, and from your memories, I see that no one has misbehaved that egregiously. Mesprit, you have done well guiding Grace Pastel."

Woah. It felt weird having them just use my name like that. Also, I decided to ignore the fact that they'd scanned our memories so quickly or without asking anything. I held onto Cece's hand, knowing that it would be unpleasant for her.

Mesprit pouted and crossed their arms. "Why did you expect the worst from me? Azelf was too busy brooding in the woods."

"I was being controlled, you—"

"Do not worry, Azelf,"
Uxie interrupted. "You did well, too."

Willpower looked away, satisfied with the compliment but unwilling to say so. "Hmph."

Strangely enough, they became more personable when interacting with each other. It was like seeing three actual siblings interact. Uxie explained that since Giratina was hanging about, it was only a matter of getting his attention to get an audience. Of course, we'd be a few islands away with our heads turned. Just being near his true body was enough to go insane, and if possible, no one wanted Uxie messing with their brains, unlike Mira.

"I guess that only leaves us with finding Cynth," Maylene said, much to Natalia's displeasure. She wanted out, and yesterday. "Since Froslass found Cecilia, she can do the same thing and communicate with the spirits to ask."

"I could have just made them tell us," Azelf grouched. "Giratina wouldn't like it, though, so go ahead, ghost."

Just those words had been enough to make me want to go, even if it hadn't been a command using the Voice or intended at me. Froslass lazily floated away toward an alcove, having somewhat recovered some of her energy. That bit of ice she had used to save Cecilia had taken a lot out of her, and I hoped the effect in our world wouldn't be too bad.

The question was:

How was Cynthia doing, and where the hell was Cyrus?

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, MKK, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, Powernap, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Zeta, Rain, Jason H, Mads
 
Last edited:
Distortion III
A/N: General trigger warning, this chapter gets somewhat dark and some scenes might be unpleasant to read.

DISTORTION III


The cold, dead air rushed past Garchomp's scales, seemingly doing everything in its flimsy power to slow her down. Ordinarily, this would have been the second, no, the third best feeling in the world, right behind battling an equal foe and Cynthia massaging her scales after a long day spent training or battling. Flying so quickly the beautiful world below passed you by in an instant was one of Garchomp's pleasures in life, but this world was anything but pretty. With squinting eyes protected by a thin, transparent membrane, she scanned the terrain below her. Even at the speeds she was going at, the dragon found no difficulty taking note of any interesting features she saw. An upside-down mountain constantly spewing smoke out of the crater at its summit was her most recent interesting find, but she passed it in only a few seconds as a shockwave rattled her scales and made her ears painfully pop. Normally, they would have been closed off to protect her while she flew, but she was desperate to hear one of her teammates— or more importantly, her sister call her.

There had been nothing so far but wind and pests complaining in her ears.

Even now. Garchomp felt the weight of the dead press down on her back. She heard the constant screams, the aching jealousy, the need to dig at pain in her past to make her relive it all over again. The first time, it had worked. She'd luckily crashed into a wooded area a few miles below her due to how unexpected it had all been, but she'd caught herself and only hit the ground fast enough to bruise. Garchomp had only been truly terrified a few times in her life. The first time they'd met Spiritomb at the bottom of that well shortly after Cynthia had become the Champion had been one of those times. In a way, Spiritomb's mere presence worked like this place, only on a smaller scale and less intense. She had grown used to it, after so many years.

The second instance, it had annoyed her and forced Garchomp to fly slower. The third time and beyond?

Draconic energy coursed through the dragon type's body like gushing water, bursting from the narrow gap in her scales. The air around her shimmered as the raw power of draconic forces surged from deep within her core. Ghostly visages in the corner of her vision turned from twisted pleasure to a mix of anger and apprehension; screams meant to remind her about the fear she'd felt in her life slowly shifted to reverence. Memories of her fighting that Zangoose as a baby alone with Cynthia, burned within her mind and turned into proof that she was just better. Today, it was like breathing to her, but it took a complex process to truly master. With a final flex, she expelled all of it at once. It was enough to make the living die from her mere presence, if they were astronomically weaker than her. For these spirits? They simply stopped clinging to her scales and allowed her to keep going.

Every energy, I've found, can serve multiple purposes, and they have overlap with each other, her sister's younger voice rang out in her head. Garchomp could still smell the old paper Cynthia kept her thousands of pages of notes on. Luckily for you, you only have to worry about one thing. You're a prodigy at making people bend to your will, but it won't be enough for this fight. The calculus is simple, really. For us to win against Radetic, you have to become indomitable.

And that is what she would strive to embody.

Still, there was nothing. She'd been looking for hours now as fast as she could, and there was still nothing. They'd all been close, when that massive thing had draped its wings over them, but they'd been scattered all throughout the Dusk. With her speed, she could cover a lot of distance, but she had to look everywhere, not just in a flat plane, and Spiritomb had been annoyingly closed off whenever anyone asked anything about the Dusk. Not that they'd died many times anyway.

Angry at her lack of progress, the dragon flattened her wings against her sides and threw herself into a dive. She heard the quiet wind whistle past her ears until she entered the ground of an island like it was liquid. She emerged from the bottom in a burst of dust, rocks and angry echoes of the dead. It was time to turn back and search the perimeter lower in the Dusk. It was possibly going to take days, but eventually, she would find someone. There was only so far they could have gone.

At least the brat had probably found someone by now.

…maybe it'd be best to stay still for a few minutes to give him time to find her, if he'd been looking for her. Actually, knowing him, Garchomp was the one he would attempt to find first if he couldn't catch or distinguish Cynthia's emotions due to the Dusk's effects. Garchomp dove again, but this time, it was to land. Her arrival created a small crater in the platform that lashed back out at her with pulsating red light— she roared at it until her chest vibrated and heated up with draconic energy, mostly in frustration at her lack of progress, but it didn't flinch back. It wrapped around her ankles in an attempt to drag her down until she clawed it apart, again and again. Her arms blurred, the ground shivered at each strike and turquoise light raked across the earth with every Dragon Claw, but the ground wouldn't let her go.

She'd had enough.

In a second, she could feel every inch of ground below her. She could push and pull, vibrate the earth together into massive Earthquakes—

CE̶̷͡A̴̸͞S̢͘E̛

Something squeezed Garchomp's heart. An invisible force that brushed against the organ with a delicate touch that she intrinsically knew could be deadly. In a flash, she saw a shadow in the corner of her vision that was gone as soon as she noticed. It was a feeling, that lingered as soon as the moment passed. The sensation of long, clawed tendrils grazing past her scales and into her flesh. The pain that had left as soon as it had come, and the forgetfulness of what she'd seen left Garchomp shaken. There was a gap in her memory, but that absence was just as terrifying to her as the alternative. The ground type stayed there, frozen, feeling like a child having been caught disobeying their parent.

That—

That had been no spirit. No jealous echo attempting to drag her into the maw of death.

Garchomp found it better for her sanity to move on as best as she could. And to listen, of course. If she didn't, well—

There was always someone stronger than you, and her instincts screamed that she could be eradicated with a single look. Blinking to unblur her vision, she saw a flicker of white in the sky, like a blinking light. As much as it pained to admit her, seeing the brat appear in this instant had her relax just a tiny bit. The flickering surprised her, though. Togekiss was nearly as fast as her when he slipped away from the world, and this would just slow him down. She'd been ready to scold him, but the reason became apparent as they drew closer. A tiny gust of blizzard was following close behind him.

Of course, Glaceon was here too. Leave it to her luck to have the two most annoying members of her family find her first. Why couldn't it have been Lucario or Braviary?

Togekiss landed next to her without a single sound and a bright smile. Even his presence soothed her a little bit, despite the fact that there was only so much he could do in the Dusk. Glaceon was the third fastest flier in the team, so keeping up with Togekiss wasn't much of an issue. Snow compacted into crystalline ice, which came together and rebuilt Glaceon. The ice type stared off into the distance at nothing in particular. She tended to be distant and disconnected, after transforming for too long.

You've been making quite the emotional commotion. Togekiss smiled and patted the dragon on the back with a wing. She brushed him off. That pulse of fear I felt coming from here was great at getting us to find you! It's a good thing you were so terrified, but I wonder, the fairy type paused, what's got you so scared? Your legs are still trembling.

Garchomp glared at him. Oh, she knew he didn't mean to press her buttons. There was unfortunately not one mean bone in the brat's body, and he was genuinely curious.

Felt something warn me when I'd been about to destroy an island with an earthquake, she dryly said, turning away from them due to the slight embarrassment. She was the leader of the team. Scared wasn't supposed to be in her vocabulary. It's difficult to remember. Don't mention it again. The sooner I forget, the better.

Are you going to be okay? Do you need a little help from yours truly?
Togekiss' peaceful aura intensified mildly. It was what he always did to get Cynthia to sleep. We need to take a break regardless. Glacia's still a bit out of it.

Glaceon blinked when she heard Togekiss' name for her, but she did not react.

No, I'll be fine. I need to fight something, she complained. Nothing like the thrill of the hunt to get her going.

Well, you'll be happy to know that I know where Cyrus and his gathering are! Togekiss' wings flapped excitedly.

Garchomp grinned. Good job, brat.

Finally.

Some action.



What had been the odds of finding Cyrus and his ilk without that annoyance Spiritomb to yell at her? High with Togekiss, apparently. He wasn't a baby anymore, but it was difficult for her to think of him as anything other than an annoying infant who had always wanted attention or to train with her. After glancing at Togekiss overhead, Garchomp stomped her way toward the edge of the island, at a craggy cliff that was too straight to be natural, and her eyes narrowed at the group below her. The human who'd caused her sister so much trouble was sitting right there, arms outstretched as if the Dusk was a pleasant place and not just an annoyance. With him were his Pokemon—

Weak.

Weak was the first thing she noticed, compared to her, at least. She felt it deep in her flesh, that she would be able to win in a fight against each and every member of his team. A rather large Absol whom had spotted her instantly, a Honchkrow flying a few feet above the man himself, a Crobat hanging onto his shoulder. Then, the rest of his Pokemon were a little separated. A Gyarados was slithering against the ground like a snake, patrolling the edges of his massive platform. Garchomp couldn't make out what Pokemon was last, however she was certain that something else was lurking in the shadows within the small woods to the island's east. A Houndoom was his last companion, the second one to notice her. This one barked and alerted the others.

Garchomp was many things, but she wasn't good at hiding like Glaceon or Togekiss. She felt a chill, and then a small cloud of blizzard spread out next to her, compacting into tightened shards of ice that once more turned into Glaceon, whose back arched as she lazily stretched from the tiny amount of exertion. Togekiss landed to her right without a sound, flickering back into view.

What's the verdict? Togekiss hummed in his usual sing-song voice. Even the Dusk couldn't turn it into something that unpleasant.

The ground type quietly observed Cyrus' Pokemon, who were in the process of spreading out into some kind of formation, tight at the back to protect Cyrus, with the speediest members in front being more spread out. It was a large island, after all. One mile, maybe one and a half. She wasn't good with measurements. There was a small, dense forest to the east where that final Pokemon still remained concealed, flatlands in the center where Cyrus stood, and a strange undulating hill to the west that reminded her of waves in the ocean where Gyarados was currently stationed. She'd never really been one for tactics— or she had been, but those were no longer really necessary given the number of brilliant minds better than her in her family. Her so-called opponents were silent, watching them with wary eyes and clearly expecting the worst.

Cyrus didn't even bother paying any attention to them. That ticked her off, some, but not enough to set her off like it might have, once.

I could go in there and handle them myself, Garchomp finally replied. There was an understanding between them, that Garchomp was simply the best at gauging strength. But I'll take Glaceon with me just in case it gets dicey.

Of course you'd take me,
the lazy thing complained with drooping ears and a drawn out yawn.

Garchomp did not deem that worthy of an answer.

Togekiss' wings tightened to his sides. I suppose you'd have me look for the others, then.

Well, of course. Garchomp just grunted, again not even bothering with a response. The little upstart was smart enough to know that he was the only one of the three capable of finding his mother and their companions. Lucario would be second, but they had no idea where he was and while he could fly, he'd do a pisspoor job of it here, where conditions were so unstable.

Togekiss sighed. Fine. Discourteous as always, even when we're in the literal land of the dead.

Glaceon strolled toward Togekiss, rubbing her cold body against the flying type's feathers as a farewell. As Togekiss spread her wings, Garchomp growled, still not looking at him behind her.

Be careful, she warned.

This time, she deigned to glance.

Togekiss' eyes fluttered. Was that worry? he gasped. Glacia, did—

Don't let it get to your head,
the dragon interrupted. Her foot shifted against the ground as she prepared her jump. Now scram before I eat you and leave nothing behind but your bloodied fur. That used to work, when he was a baby.

Now? He just laughed and took flight without a single vibration in the air.

My dear family, I leave you with this! he screamed.

Yet she could barely hear him. Glaceon whispered a complaint about Togekiss showing off too much, and for once, Garchomp agreed with that hellion. The fairy type flickered in the ominous winds—

And disappeared without a trace. Garchomp's brain desperately clammored that he had never been there despite her knowing that the opposite was true. Belief was a powerful force that could spread to others, even if she had long gotten used to his crap. Usually she could just beat it out of him and win anyway. She noticed Absol bark out something Braviary would have been able to hear, and Cyrus' Pokemon barely had any time to react.

The front of the island burst alight with sparkling pink, and the sound hit Garchomp a fraction of a second later. The bombardment spread throughout the platform in a flash, and enormous plumes of glamour rose like pillars of smoke that masked the impacts from the second volley. The air crackled purple with the intertwining of spirits attempting to fight this foreign influence, and they screamed until the glamour had all been eaten away. The ground, torn and ravaged, bore deep craters and fissures save for the hill in the west which was slowly reforming, but the Pokemon themselves had survived the onslaught. Garchomp didn't really bother checking which was hurt and which wasn't, though the upturned forest did reveal that Cyrus' last Pokemon was a Weavile.

Not bad, kid. Not bad.

Talk about extra, Glaceon grumbled. Can you deal with this on your own? Please?

I'll let you sleep on my shoulders if you do well,
Garchomp said.

The ice type grinned, and frost began to leak with every breath. Let's kill these guys, Garchomp!

Ha. Garchomp wasn't smiling right now, she simply needed to flash her teeth to look threatening to her enemies below.

The moment passed.

It was at times like these that Garchomp was glad she could let loose once in a while without caring about collateral damage. Or caring much about it, at least. So long as she didn't go too ham and do something like try to collapse an island again, she'd probably be fine.

The dragon crouched low against the ground, flexed as energy channeled through her legs. She broke any conceptions of limits she might have, be it strength her body could not attain, speed her wings could not carry her at, the toughness of her scales, and she jumped, leaving a massive crater behind her that smoldered with turquoise wisps and flames. Glaceon's complaints faded behind her, and she landed on the next island before any of her enemies could blink.

Right. She needed to be scary at times like these. Garchomp let out a roar that vibrated in her chest and watched Weavile and Houndoom flinch with a pleased eye. She immediately drew upon fire, feeling her scales heat up as blue flames overtook her, and she rushed toward Houndoom as soon as Weavile took up a defensive position. The weakling hound hadn't expected her to target him with flames, and she wasn't. Infusing the fire with draconic energy, Garchomp raised a claw before slamming it against the dog's spine. She frowned when the Dragon Rush only hit dissolving shadows and quickly side stepped a beam of ice coming from behind her.

Houndoom was quicker than she'd given it credit for.

She stomped another foot against the ground and felt the earth ripple against her feet. She could sense the pathetic dark type squirming in the shadows. An eruption of earth kicked the Houndoom out of the ground and she jumped into the sky to feint a strike. As soon as Crobat dashed to stop her, foaming poison at its mouth, Garchomp twisted in the air and pushed herself toward Weavile, whose eyes widened at her maneuverability in the air. The dragon moved her wings quickly in front of her, and a shockwave infused with turquoise light stunned Weavile long enough for Garchomp to slice her wing through her shoulder like it was made of clay.

To Garchomp, time always seemed to slow in the most violent moments of a battle. There was might behind her strike. The power of an unbeatable Pokemon; of an indomitable spirit; of a natural disaster; of what being a dragon meant to her; of Cynthia's Garchomp. The smell of blood filled her nose, and her instincts told her to go for the neck and start spinning while she dragged her under the earth. She wouldn't need to go that far.

Ah, Weavile's reaction time had been so great, still. Enough for frost to start spewing out of her like a torrent. Not enough. What a shame, too. Who knew, another five years and maybe she would have made for a decent fight.

She'd felt the resistance of Weavile's sinewy flesh slowly give way, and the subtle crunch as her claws tore through the muscle and into the bone. The ice type's face had gone from terrified to agonized in a moment, and she was only now registering what had happened. A guttural roar of pain erupted from Weavile, mingling with the savage satisfaction that coursed through Garchomp's veins. In a smooth motion, she dug her wing away from the Weavile and turned toward the wounded Houndoom and furious Crobat. Behind her, Weavile slumped to the ground and groaned in pain.

Thought even you would all give me a better fight than that after your dodge, hound, Garchomp said, almost wishful.

They did not answer, for they knew their fate was already sealed.



The ground trembled as the massive form of Gyarados loomed over Glaceon, its serpentine body coiling with the intent to strike. Tail. The ice type caught the flicker of movement, the angling of the strike so it could hit her flank while the Gyarados gathered a Dark Pulse within its mouth. Instead of hitting her, the darkness wrapped around the tail right as it swung. Glaceon dissolved into a tiny patch of blizzard right as Gyarados' darkened tail was about to strike her. The sensation was still as surreal as the first time she'd ever managed the transformation after months of intense focus and training that was really annoying because of how hard she'd needed to work.

It was, in one sentence, like melting into the essence of Winter itself. Winter was, of course, cold, but it was distant. Turning into a small part of it meant the dulling of the senses. Glaceon felt weightless, almost omnipresent. Through small shards of crystal ice, she could track the movements of Gyarados, Absol and Honchkrow even though she no longer could see.

She was a relentless, howling wind that cut through skin, fat, muscle and bone. The chill that gripped you to your core and left you unable to move your limbs while you died alone in a blizzard after the winds extinguished your fire. Winter was a weakening force, and so Gyarados' strike slowed to a mind-numbing pace until its tail went limp on the ground and Glaceon reformed on top of it before she could lose more of herself. Absol followed suit, jumping on the water type as it blurred in her direction, and Honchkrow launched countless arcs of darkness toward her.

Honestly, what a bother.

Synced with her boredom and laziness, the temperature plummeted. The darkness froze and cracked like distorted glass into a thousand pieces and Absol's legs stuck to Gyarados' hide.

Once an enemy was still and entirely within her field of vision for an extended period of time, it was over.

Glaceon looked, channeling Winter through her eyes. Frost crawled over Absol's fur and sank past the skin. She could see it freeze every blood vessel in place, every organ, every inch of muscle, and it continued until he was nothing but ice. Glaceon jumped with a burst of ice below her feet. The air around the ice type sharpened with a distorted squawk from Honchkrow, slicing her hide with more darkness in an attempt to cut off the well of Winter. It was shallower, in the Dusk, but it was only that. An attempt.

And a meaningless one at that. What it had done was essentially try to block the flow of a massive river with a boulder a fraction of its width. Slower this time, she turned to a blizzard that enveloped Honchkrow until it crashed to the ground and Glaceon pierced its chest with a lance borne of Winter, created directly inside of the crow's body. She flexed her body, freezing her wounds over, and turned toward Gyarados with an exasperated groan.

If you surrender and act dead, I'll spare you, Glaceon lied. Really, she wanted the serpent to lay down so she could lance it in the head without any issues.

Gyarados bellowed, I won't let you touch my master. The sound of her voice had Glaceon flatten her ears in mild irritation.

Gah! They were making her work for this. Why did they even love a man who could never return that feeling, anyway? Glaceon would have given it some thought, but that'd take too much brain power and Garchomp's shoulders were calling.



Man, as a species, was flawed. The world, as it had been crafted by Arceus' thousand hands, was flawed. Cyrus believed he'd be the one to fix it all, one day. That he alone would usher this world into a new era that would shed any unnecessary parts these so-called Gods had brought into the world. He, alone, had been born as a flawless being. One capable of seeing through the veil that was emotion which made the world so repugnant.

And he had come so close. Dialga had been within his grasp, with Palkia about to breach into their reality within moments. Had that thing, the Ruler of the Dusk, not intervened, he would have won. Everything would have been unmade and he would be in the process of rebuilding the world. From nothing would have come all he had ever wanted.

Yet,

This Dusk, as ghosts called it, was not so bad, either. He had been aware of its existence, of course, but a Legend ruling it had not been in any of what he had learned. Nearly two decades spent on the road, exploring every ruin, combing through every library, getting his hands on classified information through Charon's Rotom, and still, he had been left with this gaping blind spot.

But what was this world? Cyrus' hands were no longer outstretched. Instead, he had placed him behind his back and had begun pacing near the fuzzy edge of this islet. Behind him, he could hear the sound of fighting, but no matter. His Pokemon had served him well and were no longer of use. At first, he had been compelled to leave as soon as possible. To regroup, start over and escape the region until he could rebuild his strength enough. Maybe far north in the Battle Frontier, where the League's authority stretched thin.

He had since changed his mind.

First of all, it was quiet. So, so quiet. There was the sound of screaming emanating all throughout, but this was a different kind of quiet. No, unlike in the old world, individual words and sounds were indistinguishable, forming a comforting white noise that was essentially silence. It was so… uniform. No more, did he have to hear the chaotic and disunited blare that he had somehow grown used to. He could hear himself think and ponder without having to stay locked in his office for days on end. It was visually chaotic, but if he closed his eyes and stopped to think, Cyrus could be at peace. His Pokemon had warned him of spirits hounding them, before the Champion's team had come, but none of that had happened to him. Second, this world being the Dusk meant that there would be a certain permanence to it. That it would remain with him, forever, unchanged in its current state. This was a world without spirit, a world that Cyrus had craved for decades.

It was as if he was meant to be here. As if the Dusk's ruler had seen how great his endeavor truly was and wanted to show him that there was a place for him among its dimension.

Third.

If he was the only person who would remain here, would that not make him a God? Would the shadowy figure who ruled this world not elevate him until he grew in power? It had invited him here, after all. He was worthy of being more. Not Arceus, not Dialga, Palkia, the Lake Guardians or any other Legendary. He deserved all of it, and he was about to get it.

Cyrus forcefully exhaled, satisfied with himself. It was just in time, too, because he could hear Garchomp's heavy and distorted steps slowly approach behind him. Team Galactic's leader turned, hands still behind his back and fist tightly wound around one of his wrists. Ah, Cynthia Collins. The owner of a team so powerful his Absol's disaster sense had flared up as soon as they'd approached. The Glaceon was pristine like crystalline ice, and Garchomp had been shallowly wounded on the arms, torso and legs due to poison, and blood and guts covered her. The corpses of his team had been strewn about the island, half of them frozen like statues and the other torn to shreds. Nowhere near enough to hope for a victory, and that just against two members of the Champion's team. Truly, she had reached the pinnacle of what it meant to be a trainer.

Ah, but he was getting side tracked. Both Pokemon were talking among themselves, fighting about something.

"If you must strike me down, know that—" Garchomp growled at him, a deep, guttural and savage sound that barely contained her bloodlust. A warning that Cyrus decided to ignore. "—I have been invited here by the Dusk's ruler itself." Cyrus took a step forward and ignored his instincts telling him that he was about to die. "You will find yourself constrained and unable to strike."

Glaceon rolled her eyes, seemingly giving up on holding Garchomp back, and—

Cyrus felt wind rush past his face. He saw a green blur, his ears popped from the air being displaced at such speeds, yet Cyrus stared straight ahead without blinking. Garchomp's wing was just a few inches from his neck, yet it was frozen in place. Its sharpened teeth chattered and its entire body had been gripped by fear. Cyrus knew what that meant.

His hypothesis had been right. He could not be killed.

Cyrus allowed his body to relax and untense, quietly slipping away from Garchomp's wing before he returned to stare at the endless, formless void that spread in every direction. He threw each of his empty Pokeballs one by one, ignoring Glaceon's chatter behind him, and enjoyed a sense of peace he had never felt before.

This was his place. He had finally found it.



Togekiss was in high enough spirits to hum one of his favorite songs. The flying type spun around in a barrel roll as he flew, reaching the limits of his speed. His fur slicked back against his skin, and his song broke into a giggle. Oh, the spirits tried to cling to him, they always did, those poor things! Togekiss called out to them in an attempt to listen to their pleas. It was the best way to draw them in, after all! The flying type felt something cold crawl through his skin, but he waited until enough weight had been added and they tried to find what made him tick to spring to action.

He relaxed a part of him he hadn't even known was tense. Muscle memory had worked through that sensation. Like opening a valve to allow air to pass, positive emotions began to leak out of Togekiss' body. A veritable flood that these echoes hadn't felt in who knew how many years. Rejoice, lost ones, for I have come to bless you! Togekiss laughed. They wailed, wailed and wailed, as if they'd been singed by fire. His mere presence was enough to help those poor souls remember what joy and love was.

Kill them with kindness, as always.

That should have bought him a few minutes until they tried something else. These last few hours, he had learned that usually when they saw such a large portion of their kin being beaten back, they instinctively retreated for a while. The fairy zipped past an island shaped like an indescribable shape, molded in the form of an impossible figure that he thought in too few dimensions to understand. Finding someone here was like finding a needle in a haystack. The only reason he had managed to find Glacia so quickly was because she'd turned herself into a massive blizzard that Giratina had warned her to cease. Luckily they'd been close enough together for him to spot her beforehand, and he had wrung the fear out of her like liquid out of a sponge. That primal fear had been stronger than anything else in the vicinity and was easy enough to locate. Leviathan had been the same, but was clearly embarrassed about it.

Levi had always been like that. She wanted to look strong for the others, as the leader of the team. It made seeing her soft side all the more special—

Togekiss saw a smudge of red below him, traveling at rather low speeds. His eyesight wasn't as good as his other family members, but he easily recognized Braviary. Luck was on his side, it seemed. He had always been too lucky for it to be natural. His mother called it an ability.

Braveheart! the fairy type exclaimed with a bright smile. He dove down, just as Levi had taught him when he had just evolved, and broke the sound barrier.

Yet there was no shockwave to be heard. For all intents and purposes, Togekiss did not exist at the moment. He made no sound when he flapped his wings, or spoke, and no eyes could perceive his form. This was belief pushed to its absolute limit. Even when mother had become the Champion, he had only been able to diffuse his tenet through multiple versions of Moonblast, but they had not stayed idle since. With a deep breath, the fairy type slowed down and flickered in and out of the air in an attempt to remember what existing felt like. At the first blink, Braviary noticed him. Togekiss could feel her hunter's gaze like a physical thing. He'd grown used to it by now, so he shook off the feeling of being prey in an instant.

She was astute as always.

It was only as he got closer to her that he noticed the patch of vibrant colors all over the plumage. Flowers had grown to and fro, most of them on her back and head. They were of every color, shining brighter here than the surroundings as if they had influence of their own, but this could only be— Togekiss turned upside down, keeping himself afloat without moving his wings, and noticed Roserade hanging onto one of Braveheart's talon by a thread of flowery vines attached to her bouquet. Ah, of course, that must have been why Braviary was moving slower than usual.

Lycoris! Braveheart! What happened—

The Braviary cut him off, each flap of her wings generating so much wind he struggled to keep his eyes open. We passed by a turbulent area, she squawked. Roserade nearly fell off of me.

And of course, she wasn't getting back on. Probably because Braveheart was still too skittish about getting people to ride her due to her previous experiences working with Unova's Rangers. Lycoris didn't look like she minded, though, with that usual amused smirk plastered on her face and her constant humming he had picked up from her growing up.

Lycoris winked, and Togekiss felt the back of his head prickle. A flower was growing on him, no doubt.

For when you leave, my baby boy, the grass type said in her usual soft tone. A tracker. Good.

Shouldn't you let her back on. Togekiss worryingly circled Roserade.

She blew a kiss at him. I'll be fine, little bundle of joy. Lycoris hoisted herself a few feet until she was right under Braviary. Now, what's going on?

Togekiss explained the situation as fast as he could, and seeing the genuine relief on their faces when they heard that Glacia and Leviathan were safe was enough to have him tear up. He peppered them with positivity so their minds could steer clear of any negative influence they must have had from flying this long, and Lycoris explained that the flowers would ward evil away from them— for a time. They also doubled as a way to pretty up Braviary, who was forced to deal with it for the time being. Togekiss had to agree that those flowers looked great on her!

But now, it was time for more serious matters.

I have to look for Cynthia. Togekiss did not really call her mom or mother out loud that often, because it meant that they would keep babying him. He was over twenty years old, for Arceus' sake! It was done out of affection, but it could get grating, after a while. Only the newer members of the team like Braveheart who hadn't seen him as a baby refrained from doing so. Roserade, read my mind, if you will.

Still hanging over that same permeating emptiness below, the poison type closed her eyes as Togekiss visualized the path he had taken to come here in broad strokes. It would not be foolproof in the Dusk, since some islands sometimes randomly started moving, and navigating it in general was a pain, but it would be better than having nothing to go off of. She was no psychic, and Cynthia's team had none, but Mind Reader had its uses, even outside of battle.

I worry for Milotic. Knowing her, she's probably moving water around, Braveheart noted with a snap of her beak. She might be lost in her own little world.

Roserade rotated, observing the world around her. Below them, slightly off-center, was a water current flowing uphill instead of downhill. Rather banal for the Dusk compared to what Togekiss had seen, all things considered, but that mere abnormality could have Cascade getting lost in her own head for hours, and that was without the mental effects of the Dusk.

If I find her on the way, I'll take care of her, Togekiss agreed. But you should look for her and the others after gathering with Levi and Glacia. They should be done turning Cyrus and his gathering into a state of non-existence.

Goodbyes were exchanged, Lycoris was allowed onto Braveheart's back once more as an exception, and they went their separate ways, with a crown of flowers still attached tightly on Togekiss' head. Lycoris' presence felt reassuring on him, and given that it had actually grown from his skin and used his blood for essential nutrients, it was anchored hard there without much risk of falling off due to his speed or the changing gravity.

But even after searching for long, after attempting to question dead ghosts and only being met with silence, after starting to grow tired due to how far he had exerted his empathy; it was as he scoured the Dusk for answers, that he came across a bundle of emotion so powerful to his senses that they almost blinded him. It was an unfathomably large torrent of every single feeling imaginable that he was surprised he had even managed to miss until now. And it was then that he saw them.

People.



With Froslass and Gengar to communicate with ghosts and commute with spirits and the Lake Guardians to use their senses, we had a pretty good idea of where Cynthia was. Plus, with all three of them combined, traveling through the Distortion World had grown to be annoying rather than impossibly hard. It almost felt normal, too. Froslass and Gengar were like fish in the water, and the latter had taken over to stop Denzel's Pokemon from exerting too much of herself. They'd never interacted much before this outside of large gatherings or parties, but they quickly became friends. The Guardians were happy to be traveling together at last and were savoring every single moment they could. Uxie had to shut down a suggestion from Mesprit to take detours so they could be freed longer. It was depressing to think that they would have to lock themselves back into their lakes when we returned to the real world. Mimi hung inside of my inner jacket above my neckline, happy to have been returned to a more familiar spot. Cecilia had recalled Hydreigon and Talonflame, opting to only remain with Toxicroak due to the difficulty they were having flying around. Plus, Hydreigon wasn't exactly in the best of moods…

As for the people, well—

Natalia was apparently a heavy conversationalist, because she kept trying to strike up talks with me, Cecilia, Mira or Maylene. Cecilia would glare at her like she was worth less than nothing and Maylene wasn't any better, opting to treat her like a prisoner more than anything else. She'd give short answers and tell her to just keep walking. Mira just wanted nothing to do with her. As for me? I was the most amenable, but that didn't mean much. Of course, she was still horrible and irritating, and the similarities to Mars make me uncomfortable, but I was at least responding to some of the things she was asking. Small talk, mostly. I had a feeling that it was kind of a defensive mechanism for her to ignore how nervous she was, both at our circumstances and the thought of having to get near Giratina, but also due to her uncertain fate afterwards.

There was no atonement, no yearning to be better now that she had been given another chance in her quite yet, or at least I hoped it would come. I'd never been as bad as her, but I too, had been given a second chance. If there came a time where I'd need to argue in her favor to spare her, well…

I wasn't sure what I'd do. I hoped I would stop the League from killing her, if it came to that.

"Ah. Something living is following us." Mesprit unlatched from Azelf's back and turned to stare at the sky above us. Since we were in the mid transit between two islands, none of us did the same. It was better not to take any chances. Their siblings were slower, but they also looked in the same direction. "Togekiss…? Ah, your Champion's, yes!" Mesprit exclaimed. "I was trying to suppress myself, but he's found me regardless."

Cynthia's Togekiss? I nearly turned to look as well, but a "no, stop!" from Maylene kept me staring right ahead until we reached solid ground. Even after seeing so many, we still came across disturbing ones sometimes, a sign that the Distortion World would never really grow familiar. You couldn't beat it, just survive it. Trees were bent inward to support another island above the one we stood on, and the stone underneath it was cracked and brittle. I couldn't shake the feeling that it was going to fall on us any time soon. Really, it was as if the process had already begun, but it had been stopped right before the collapse could truly begin.

Togekiss landed without a sound. He bowed to the Guardians immediately, yet even the bristling of his fur was inaudible. His eyes were barely open, as if he was looking at something bright— empathy while looking at Mesprit, maybe? How in the world was he using it in here, amidst all these negative emotions?

The mere thought of trying again brought a lump to the back of my throat. No thank you.

The pattern on Cynthia's Togekiss was different than Princess', since it was inherited through the one they'd been born with on their egg. The fur on his stomach was dotted by far fewer red and blue shapes than hers was— it was something I'd noticed the first time I'd seen him, but I had never really paid any mind to it because Princess hadn't been a Togekiss yet. On his head was a flower crown. The shape was somewhat circular, and was an intricate arrangement of flowers of every color that immediately drew the eye. The blooms had been delicate yet striking and sharp, with petals curling upward in an unusual way. Their roots were buried in the fur and were bloodshot red.

You could almost forget there was even a Togekiss there in the first place. Maylene quickly found herself next to the fairy type with a sigh of relief and a hug. Right, they actually knew each other. Togekiss patted her on the back with a wing with a hum that sounded like the best thing in the world.

It had been a while since I'd actually heard something so clear, and even then the Dusk still found ways to twist the voice. It was a different kind of crisp than the Guardians, who were also clearer than the norm. Something a lot more familiar, and therefore a lot more dear to my heart. I'd missed this.

Almost instinctively, I'd wanted to take the lead in the conversation, but Mesprit shushed me and spoke first. "State your query, Togekiss!"

He bowed once again, thanking them for their generosity and kindness, then explained that he was looking for Cynthia and the rest of his team. Already, he knew of Glaceon, Garchomp, Braviary and Roserade's safety, but Cynthia had ten Pokemon— eleven, now, with Zoroark, though she had not released him on Spear Pillar. He'd corrected himself on multiple occasions due to referring to them by actual names, which was… not strange for a fairy, but considering that Cynthia herself had not used these anytime I'd heard her speak in interviews or in real life, it still gave me some whiplash.

We all tensed when we heard that he had found Cyrus and that he'd sicced Garchomp and Glaceon onto them. Even Natalia brought her hands down from behind her head and placed them limp against her sides. Was that fear? Fear of Cyrus? Cecilia nudged my elbow just in case I hadn't caught it, but I had.

"We're looking for Cynth right now," Maylene said as she caressed Togekiss' wing. She really dug her fingers in there, something that Princess would have found annoying, but by the look on his face, he liked it. "We should be getting close, at least according to those three." She nudged her head toward the three Legendaries accompanying us. "You're free to come with us, if you want."

Togekiss beamed, calling her warmhearted along with numerous other compliments. He knew, however, that the answer lay in Uxie, Mesprit and Azelf's opinions, not ours. They were our guides, but they were also kind of in charge of the group.

"I do not see any reason to refuse," Uxie said. They looked at Azelf.

"What?" they demanded so forcefully I felt the need to apologize.

Knowledge tilted their head to the side. "...nothing."

"Don't think so little of me! I refuse to allow it!"


Togekiss was happy enough to join us after that. The sooner we were off this island, the better I'd feel. It was honestly getting a bit difficult to breathe. There was a constant weight pressing down my chest and shoulders as if stone had begun to bear down on me, and it was making it difficult to breathe, even more so when I looked up. We'd been in here for hours, yet I hadn't even begun to scratch the surface of how many types of fucked this place could make you feel.

But at least we were going away now. I was surprised to see how quickly Togekiss could go in this environment. Sometimes he would slow down or 'trip' in the air, for lack of a better word, due to the changing gravity, but he recovered in an instant. Nothing like Cecilia's Talonflame or Hydreigon who had to be recalled when it happened. He also did this… thing where he would flicker, and he would almost slip my mind. Every time he reappeared, he would be further along than I thought he should have been, but I didn't know if that was a trick of the mind or actually real. I'd seen some of his battles when researching what Togekiss as a species were capable of, even if Cynthia didn't have that many available to the public, and he had never showcased anything like this.

Then again, maybe she'd never needed to go all out in those matches anyway. Aside from… Leon, I believed Denzel had told me, the newest Galarian Champion, Champions tended to keep their intricate strategies under wraps. It was better for the populace at large and foreign Leagues to be unsure about exactly how strong Champions were or had grown since ascending to their position for a slew of reasons he had listed. I remembered most of them, like deterrence. International relations and geopolitics weren't really my thing and was more Cecilia's speed. I was more hoping to get involved in the local and environmental side of things. The only reason we knew more about Leon than the others was because he was new and Gym Battles being automatically public was a relatively new thing everywhere but Galar (that was still not a thing in Indigo, much to Denzel's chagrin), and their culture in general leaned more of the showmatch angle of things, with a penchant for the spectacular to impress audiences in their massive stadiums.

But I was getting distracted. Which was good, because it meant that I was actually in a sound state of mind. Things had felt lighter since we'd left that island and Cynthia's Togekiss had been around.

He was a reassuring presence, but not extraordinary. He was like sitting on a couch under the covers on a cold, winter day with a cup of chocolate while watching your favorite show.

And everyone was better off for it. I might have protested normally, but I was so tired that I just wanted out.

When we found Cynthia, her back facing us, it was with Zoroark posturing at her threateningly. As far as where she'd been, she was lucky it was one of the more normal islands without much going for them, save for a few ledges that changed height everytime you didn't look at them and a hole in its center. She was eerily silent as Togekiss swept down to land in-between her and Zoroark, whose wispy red hair flowed in the ghostly wind. Had she released him on her own and taken her chances to not go insane? Zoroark cackled at Togekiss, but didn't use Lakhutia's king's head to speak. Instead, he stayed in his original form with a twisted laugh which came from deep within. He must have seen this place hundreds, maybe even thousands of times in the past. I supposed that it used to be a place of respite for him until it slowly turned into somewhere where his anger could magnify and stew.

Togekiss kept his smile plastered on his face. It did not change a single millimeter, but it exuded a very clear threat. Azelf asked if they needed to banish Zoroark. It would not be interference, given that he wasn't dead and wasn't supposed to be here, but Togekiss kindly told him that he had this handled. Something told me that if Azelf's siblings hadn't been there, they would have done it anyway.

Maylene, Cecilia and I all surrounded Cynthia— and I was glad to see Cece worrying for someone she wasn't close to other than me and her team— and found her to be…

Responsive. Her eyes were shut so tightly they wrinkled at their edges, and each breath was slow and methodical, but she grasped the fact that we were here.

Cynthia's fingers went for Maylene's arm, snatching it in a vise grip. Then, it moved onto her shoulders. "Maylene," she recognized instantly. Her voice was shaky and quiet. So quiet. As if she was scared that something would hear her and kill her if she was too outspoken. In this moment, the Champion sounded more like a scared little girl than who I'd learned to know and somewhat understand. "I'm glad you're safe. Who else is there?"

The Gym Leader listed our names as fast as she could. She too, was shaken at her image of Cynthia having been shattered so easily. "Cynth, wh—what happened to you?" she hesitantly asked, before glancing at Zoroark. "Why won't you open your eyes?"

"She saw his reflection," Uxie explained. "She is the one who called Giratina here, after all."

What?

Uxie's words rang out in my mind a few times before I managed to make sense of them. Maylene stumbled back, unable to comprehend how a human being could summon such a powerful being. Cecilia's back straightened, and for the first time since I'd found here again in the Distortion World, it felt like she was actually fully alert and her mind wasn't wandering anywhere else.

"I suppose," Cynthia wrung her hands together tightly, "that I have some explaining to do."



Togekiss hummed, casting a glance his trainer's way before he turned back to Zoroark's wispy form. The ghost was seemingly pleased with himself, as if he took great pleasure from his mother's suffering. Togekiss could not understand such a mindset. The flying type tilted his head and his eyes narrowed, not in ire, but in a genuine need to understand. In the few weeks Zoroark had been with them, he had attempted to kill a member of his family or Cynthia herself nearly every single time he had been released. That was seventy-seven times, in total, but it would have been more had Cynthia not been so busy all the time.

So as his mother explained to the children why and how exactly she had summoned that beast called Giratina, Togekiss figured the hug he longed for could wait, and he stared down at the ghost as he pondered a single question.

Why did you not kill her? he asked out loud.

There were answers he was ready for, such as 'you would have found me and killed me for good'. Granted, Togekiss was uncertain that Zoroark would have minded a permanent end. Naturally, Togekiss would have been haunted for the rest of his life. Been unable to get even a wink of sleep, lest a powerful ghost catch him off-guard. He was confident he would have been able to avoid death for a few months, but eventually, one of the Primordials who had forged the Covenant in the first place would have come after him, and he doubted that he would have been able to keep it at bay for long. Or at least, that is what Spiritomb believed. Like all ghosts, Chorus had always been stingy to give information about the Dusk, but when Cynthia had asked him months ago about a method to kill Spiritomb permanently, that is what they focused on specifically. The futility of it all.

Zoroark laughed again and stared down at his claws in contemplation, as if he himself did not know. He had been aggressively leaning toward her, but never had Togekiss felt the intent to harm. Or a more accurate statement would be to say that never had it been an actual serious possibility. But while Togekiss could feel emotions, he was no Shard of Mesprit. He could not delve deep enough into him to understand the reasons behind what he felt, only feel it. He had honed himself to be a receptacle to emotion.

Hm, Zoroark curiously said. Indeed, I pondered it— deeply pondered it— when she set me free from my confinement as soon as she entered the Dusk. When I jumped at her, my claws poised upon her delicate neck, I paused for a moment and beheld her trembling form. He stopped, then took a deep breath and raised his tone, red fur flashing. And why should I have refrained? Here in the Dusk, at the zenith of my might, I could draw upon inexhaustible strength to perhaps outrun and escape from all of you. None of you would have been present to interfere in the actual murder.

Zoroark threw his hands up in frustration and stared at the endless void above. The myriad of islands floating everywhere, some moving, some still. The countless spirits gathered, exchanging emotions, ideas and clumping together like magnets. A howling, yet deathly silent wind intensified around them.

I wish to cast abominable filth at all of you. To make you vile, and make you a spectacle, Zoroark said, shivering with hatred he could barely control. But then I paused to ponder, has she shown me aught but kindness and understanding since our paths first crossed? Has she cast thee or thy ilk against me after each pitiable, failed attempt to end her life?

No,
Togekiss simply answered.

The ghost stared blankly above. In the end, she summoned our Sovereign, to whom we owe all, and in Lakhutia, I was naught but a pawn in the grand game of kings. A mere plaything to torment and sacrifice, to secure favorable omens. He looked at Grace Pastel, for a moment, and continued, Alas, I fear I am nothing, in the end. So very small. And yet, have my countless cycles of death and rebirth been for naught? Dost thou comprehend the emptiness that wouldst engulf me, to know that I had squandered so much time battling my sworn enemy simply because it was the only path I knew? He glanced at Meltan, huddled in Grace's jacket, who was using her hair as a cover to hide from him.

There was a long pause as he placed a hand over his chest.

Yes. I know how that feels now, he realized. I am nothing. Empty. But I wish to be something. Happy, I believe. I have never been… that. I do not know if I can be that.

Togekiss blinked.

He'd never been able to distinguish anything other than hatred coming from Zoroark. He hadn't even tried to influence his emotions, because Cynthia had warned him not to. There were a few members of his family who would always refuse his help. Lucario, Eelektross and Braviary, though the Distortion World had called for desperate measures for Braveheart. And yet, Zoroark had come to this conclusion on his own.

You'll feel empty for a while. Togekiss smiled— a reassuring, soft gesture meant to coddle and not taunt. But being empty is good, my child. If you are empty, you can fit anything inside of you. It is better to be empty, if you want to change, the fairy cheered. Zoroark's eyes widened. Be at peace, Halcyon. I will teach you what it means to be happy, when we get out of here. I will teach you to find joy as much in the little things as in the great things. I will teach you until you fit the meaning of your name. Togekiss gently outstretched a wing his way. We will help you, my friend.

Halcyon did not clasp his wing.

But he did not disagree with the proposal, either.



"Listen, Cynthia. We can— we can have Uxie fix you up when this is all over." Mira's voice was quick, almost panicked. "They can take away memories of whatever you saw."

Calling the situation not ideal would have been overselling it. Cynthia, the Champion, who would need to be seen as a guiding light when this was all over, was too terrified to open her eyes because she saw it every time she did so. Azelf had noted that they were surprised she could even function any longer. Her mind was stronger than most he'd seen— it had to be, to have her job.

Cecilia side-eyed Charon, still unconscious in Gengar's solid arms. "Won't she be knocked out like your uncle?"

"Only for a few days," she said.

"The region will be at its most fragile," Cece countered. "In fact, it already is. I doubt people missed the huge rift opening in the sky."

"Bertha can take over her duties— the other members of the Elite Four are there for a reason." Mira's eye twitched. She was talking like this was a foregone conclusion and we were just wasting time. "We can— we can sell it like, uh," she rapidly snapped her fingers in irritation, "like she got hurt fighting Team Galactic and needed a few days to recover. This is our only opportunity. When we're out, Uxie will leave forever."

The Guardian nodded along with her words. Azelf, for their part, looked uninterested

"Flint, Aaron and Craig went to fight Regice," Cece smoothly countered. "They succeeded in taking it down, but for all we know, one or all of them could be dead."

"You're falling into your negative spiral again—"

She interrupted me. "It is not about a negative spiral. It is simply using the information we have at our disposal and making an educated guess. She had to turn the country into a one-man-show this year. What do you think happens when that person is just gone for who knows how many days after a crisis as large as this one?"

"We should… see what she has to say about it," I said. The Champion had been utterly still after telling us

Maylene spoke up, "Can we stop talking like she's not right here? Cynth, what do you think?" She gently rubbed the Champion's back.

Sinnoh's strongest, reduced to this.

She mumbled something under her breath. Something like 'I don't want to see' or 'It can see me'. I shared a look with Mira, then Maylene and Cecilia. Cynthia, as it stood, was in no mental state to actually make that decision. Hell, it was looking like she could barely speak of anything that wasn't Giratina, as if it had consumed her mind. Like it had overgrown and overtaken every inch of her thinking space. Once that sunk in, Cecilia changed her mind. She'd believed that Cynthia could perhaps recover with Togekiss here to smooth things over, but she was too far gone, now. I was still uncomfortable with the idea, and so was Maylene, but this was… Mira was correct.

But it actually was not our decision.

"Togekiss?" I called out.

He'd been speaking with Zoroark, which I'd only caught slivers off due to not paying attention. I'd been a tad nervous, but if he hadn't killed Cynthia before, I doubted he'd come after us, and even if he did, Togekiss was there to help. The fairy type turned toward us, and finally allowed himself to get close to Cynthia. His two wings wrapped themselves around his trainer's sides, and Cynthia's shivering ceased for a moment. Her hand touched her Pokemon's crest.

"Togekiss." She collapsed— never mind, crouched and hugged him as tightly as she could. At least her legs still worked fine. "There you are. Thank the Legends, you're safe," she exhaled, almost in disbelief. Mesprit humbly responded with an enthusiastic 'no problem!' "And thank the Legendaries my gambit worked, too." She clenched tightly at her child's fur, releasing the pressure she'd been carrying for a year. "We did it. We salvaged it." A few tears rolled down her cheeks. "I'm— I'm going to be an aunt."

Oh.

She was a person, too. Just a person.

Color returned to her face, as if her Pokemon could center her, even if she still spoke like a terrified child seeing shapes in the dark where there were none. It had never been about us. Togekiss gently told her about the Pokemon he had already found. Having spent so long with her Pokemon, she knew exactly what he said and how he meant it.

"The others should be safe… I worry for— for Milotic," Cynthia forced out. "Her mind will wander, and she won't realize this place is dangerous until it's too late."

We tried to speak up about the decision, but Togekiss shushed us. I was left playing translator and telling the others what the hell was being said. Even in the face of his trainer and mother having a mental breakdown, Togekiss stayed a positive and optimistic force. After reassuring him about Milotic, saying that they'd look for her right now, he finally asked her the question. Did she, or did she not, want to have the memories of Giratina's reflection wiped away so she could start fresh.

"You know me," she said. "At the very core of who I am, I desire to know why. Why the world works the way that it does." That statement was more confident than any other she'd made since we'd found her, and I knew it rang true. It was her, after all, who had once told me that she was glad there were still mysteries for her to solve even if that meant humanity was in more danger for it. "I caught a glimpse of Giratina's reflection. I know what its true form looks like." She flinched, expecting to be struck down. She was not. "I don't want that taken away from me."

I'd never imagined she could be this greedy. Not in a bad way (though this might backfire on her), but to be willing to put her wants ahead of what could be deemed best for Sinnoh. You kind of had to be like that, to be willing to summon Giratina when the last time it had tried to influence our world it had been to end it.

Cynthia opened her eyes. "I will push through this and recover where Volo failed," she declared with a triumphant look. "Thank you, Togekiss."

"How moving!" Mesprit celebrated, clapping their hands. "We'll see how you cope when Togekiss isn't blasting you with happy thoughts that would be enough to turn anyone else delirious, though. I'm interested!"

The Champion smiled. "Mesprit. I don't believe we've met in an official capacity." She turned to the others. "Azelf, Uxie. And…" Then, to Natalia.

The amber-haired woman had lazily placed her hands behind her head for that entire debate about erasing memories, but she straightened up when the Champion spoke to her. This was the person who would decide how to deal with her, after all.

"Natalia Ivanova," she hoarsely said. "Dusknoir's newly liberated prisoner."

"Interesting," Cynthia said. "I suppose you can explain it on the way to find my team… and Cyrus."

And so, the group enlarged once more.



Finding Cynthia's Pokemon one by one had been like playing a game of Whack-a-Drilbur. Mesprit took over Togekiss' empath duties, much to his relief, so he could focus fully on keeping Cynthia's head on her shoulders. Then, again, with Mira's Gengar, we got pointed in the correct direction. Froslass had to be left behind due to spending too much energy moving, but we would see her again in a week, or maybe two. Spiritomb was the one we first found, and the easiest, since the ghost could scantily move on his own. They'd been patiently waiting in their keystone, which Cynthia placed back into her pocket. According to her, Spiritomb hated the Dusk. The way the spirits cried out constantly reminded them too much of how the 108 people they'd been forged from suffered to create them. The last time they'd died was when Cynthia had first caught them, nearly two decades ago, and they intended to keep things that way.

Milotic was next. The water type had been enthralled by a waterfall flowing upward and had gathered enough water to fill one of the Guardian's Lakes to orbit around her so she could study it undisturbed. Cynthia said that she would have stayed there until she was starving, had no one intervened, but as soon as she noticed her trainer, she screeched (more like a Fearow than anything that should have come out of a Milotic's mouth) and wrapped herself around Cynthia like a snake so tightly that had trouble breathing. It looked like thankfully, worries about her mentally breaking down had been overblown and the spirits had left her mostly alone.

Of course, all that water she had gathered collapsed and fell in every direction. Thankfully, Giratina didn't seem to mind, but that was probably because Milotic hadn't brought in any new water in. No collateral damage with the outside world.

That notion disappeared when we found Lucario flying around with bursts of aura from his palm that extended so far they scorched the earth below him. The steel type looked exhausted and ready to collapse. It seemed like crossing the void had done a number on his mental state, and Cynthia recalled him as soon as they'd shared a short hug.

Eelektross and Gastrodon had been still, huddled together under the shade from an overhang that looked more like a fanged mouth ready to close in on them. Eelektross could normally use magnetism to float or propel itself at speeds as fast as Cecilia's Talonflame, but doing that in the Distortion World would have been a death sentence, according to her. Gastrodon chimed in and said the reality was that she was terrified of the damn place, which prompted the electric type to send a shock so violent and virulent at her that we were blind for a good five minutes after. The electricity had been completely blue, like Craig's Eelektross, but far more violent and disorderly.

Yet it stopped before any of it could touch us, even when we were just a few feet away, no barrier needed. As for Gastrodon? Well, she was smoking a little bit, but she was fine.

It had taken a while, but we'd done it. We'd found her Pokemon who had been alone, and now all that remained was Garchomp's group. Seeing them all be so familiar with Maylene before being recalled was fun. She was like a younger sister they doted on. I couldn't really see her like that after how hard she'd worked and how dependable she'd been on the climb up Coronet and even here, in the Distortion World, but the last time they'd interacted much, she'd still been a struggling Gym Leader. Today, she was someone else. Who had grown, for better or for worse, just like the rest of us.

"There!" Azelf called out, letting indignation leak into their voice. We all had to resist the urge to cower. "That worthless human is close! I feel the remains of the Red Chain pulling me closer!"

Their precision helped us track him down sooner. The Guardians led us to a mountainous island, leading to a cliff that my eyes struggled to pull away from once we reached a peak. There was a huge crater near the edge pulsating with the familiar red veins that covered the Distortion World. Some of them had burst through the floor and were writhing, knitting themselves together in an attempt to rebuilt, but the damage was too extensive.

The island was so large— the largest I'd ever seen in here, in fact— that it took me thirty seconds to place him. What caught my eyes first was an ice statue of a Gyarados that I soon realized was a corpse. There were five other Pokemon strewn about the island, half frozen in place, the other half torn open with blood and organs soaking the ground below us.

That was how the Leader of Galactic went down? In a battle I hadn't gotten to see or participate in?

I clenched my fist. That was the wrong mentality to have… my Pokemon's and my friends' safety came first. Always.

Continuing from the massive platform were a series of smaller islands led to… nothing. They were almost close enough together that jumping might have been possible, but each subsequent island was smaller and smaller until the tenth only had enough space to fit a single person.

But that wasn't where Cyrus was. He stood in-between a forest and a shifting mound of hills, over the blurry edge leading nowhere, with Garchomp, Glaceon, Braviary and Roserade around him in a semicircle. The situation seemed tense, though Glaceon was lying on the ground and looked to barely be paying attention. The man himself was sitting cross-legged, his back to the Pokemon, and leaning onto his fist. I was surprised they hadn't killed him yet.

The three Guardians gently lowered us onto the island using one of their twisting paths and Maylene was the only one who couldn't bear to look at the dead bodies. Cynthia called out to her team as soon as she touched down. Of her Pokemon, Garchomp was the first one to get here at speeds that shattered the sound barrier. There really was no winding up time. A push from her legs was all that was needed to go that fast. Cece tried to hold me to keep me safe from the gust of wind, but she was still hurt. We'd have fallen, but Togekiss, Maylene, Toxicroak— hell, even Mesprit had been ready to keep us from falling.

It was a tiny gesture, but… it felt good to have so many people having my back.

Again, Cynthia explained the situation, but faster this time. Garchomp had noticed that the way she carried herself and spoke had changed to be far less confident. When she was done, she patted the dragon on the arm. "It's a good thing you didn't kill him. We have questions to ask him, or information to take away, should he prove uncooperative." There was a heavy sigh. She was tired, like everyone else. Her starter looked to the side, bright yellow eyes shifting awkwardly. "Oh. You were about to, weren't you?"

She had been, but had been stopped by a powerful voice that sounded nothing like the spirits around here. It had been far more powerful, far more orderly, yet garbled, and Garchomp had been able to tell that even if it had her stop dead in her tracks, it had been a fraction of what it was actually capable of. Something about her instincts?

Cynthia nodded, closing her eyes for a moment. Togekiss had to chirp at her to give her the courage to open them again. Cyrus hadn't even noticed us yet. He was in his own little world. Natalia was uncharacteristically quiet. If she'd stopped endlessly bantering when we'd come across Cynthia, then Cyrus' appearance had sown her mouth completely shut. The rest of Cynthia's Pokemon had gone to her as well. It was odd, seeing her in such a familiar setting. There was so much history behind every relationship there, so many years spent together.

"Giratina must have other plans," Uxie muttered under their breath. "Her intervention is the only explanation."

Mesprit quickly agreed. "He brought us in for a reason. Now I see that it has to do with the empty shell!" The Legendary's tails excitedly intertwined, something that Azelf had been desperate to stop because they believed they were above such things.

"That's just like it, to go rogue and do its own thing." Azelf crossed their arms together with a pleased expression. "That's why I like them the best."

Mesprit gasped, asking Azelf if that meant they liked Giratina less than them, but what they'd just said had terrible implications. Did that mean Cyrus couldn't actually be captured? I wasn't sure if any Pokemon or person would be courageous enough to tempt fate and hear Giratina's voice once again.

Cecilia tapped a finger on her elbow. "Cynthia. What happened to Volo, after he was beaten at the summit of Coronet?"

"I don't know. My visions weren't very clear aside from showing me the path I needed to tread. The world likes its echoes." A small smile adorned her lips, the second one since we'd gotten her back, I thought, and it completely captured our attention. "But he wasn't actually killed, nor was he ever seen again."

Cecilia muttered, "And he was allied with Giratina—"

"End this line of thought," Uxie chided. "Giratina understands now that even a world they cannot access is worth protecting, and she was punished amply."

"Pfft. A slap on the wrist. The only time He does something other than watch, and it's to punish one of us…"
Mesprit sighed with their characteristic pout.

I was curious to know what this 'slap on the wrist' was, but the conversation had already steered away from it. Should we, or should we not, attempt to capture Cyrus? What about just accosting him? The risk was astronomically high. Giratina, Mesprit warned, could see it as another affront. They explained that he or she or it or whatever they referred to Distortion as at the time would not really understand that we were different people with different agendas, or wants, and needs. A warning to Garchomp, to Giratina, was a warning to all of us.

Approaching him was fine, though, as Cynthia's Pokemon had shown. Cynthia decided that this would be the best course of action while the Guardians got ready to get Giratina to come to them, at the end of that chain of islands I'd noticed earlier. According to Uxie, it'd be far enough away that closing our eyes, turning away and having a barrier to stop sound courtesy of Azelf would be enough to protect our 'fragile minds'.

"Ah, company," Cyrus said. He really had only noticed us now. Even now, his expression was blank when he got up and turned toward us, but it was… lighter, than the pictures I'd seen. As if he'd been freed from a massive burden. "Make yourselves at home. There is plenty of space for you to experience the Dusk's perfection."

Oh.

Oh, he was that kind of insane. Completely delusional, but in a very warm way now that he seemingly had what he wanted? I thought he would have been furious at his plans being foiled, that this would have finally been the straw that broke the Camerupt's back and would have him feel something, but he just beckoned us to sit with him. As if he hadn't been our enemy for the past year. As if all of us didn't want to either see him dead or rotting in prison.

No one took him up on the offer.

"I assume you are all familiar with the concept of DNA," he continued, unbothered by the fact that we were all ignoring him. He twisted his index and middle fingers together. "Genes can be considered the blueprints of all life-forms. That includes humans and Pokémon alike. Genes are contained in a DNA strand; If one of the chains were to be broken, the other could replicate it, but one or the other cannot exist without its opposite."

Ah, he had grasped the nature of this place on his own—

Why were we even listening to this drivel?! We had to be careful, yes, but that didn't mean we needed to let him talk.

"Your days as a free man are at an end," I declared with my arms crossed. "No one cares about what you have to say."

"I would not be so certain about this," he replied. "Grace Pastel, is it? It was you, who I did not see inside of Emotion's mind. We never had much of a connection, and it only listened to me through the embers carried by Mars. Ah, speaking of Mars." He stared at Natalia, causing her to shrink and make herself small. "You would be Natalia Ivanova. Dusknoir spent many long nights speaking about you, but I suppose you would know that."

"F—fuck off," she stammered. "You groomer piece of shit."

He ignored her and kept talking. He droned on and on about how he was going to become a God and shatter our world anyway with Giratina's help, though he didn't know that name. Complete and utter delusion that boggled the mind, yet no amount of speaking over him from any of us stopped him because he could not be restrained. It was so damn frustrating. He was right there—

"It is on the cusp of arrival." Azelf's voice, which was a smidge deeper than the other two, startled me. I'd been so honed in on Cyrus I hadn't even noticed that they'd flown toward us. "Brace yourselves."

"Already?!" Maylene screeched.

"It is not only the creator of this world, it is this entire world. It can be anywhere it wants at once." The God lazily waved a hand, and an impossibly complex barrier surrounded all of us, save for Cyrus. Multilayered, but also more complicated the longer you stared at it. It was like looking at a fractal. The howling of the winds was slowly choked out as Azelf cut off sound, and I remembered what silence was again. "It has simply given us some leeway because it knows it can have… effects on people."

The idea that that thing was going to come here any moment now had me sweating. The collar of my jacket felt tight around my throat, a hand around my neck to stop me from properly breathing. Every inch of my skin prickled and I quickly closed my eyes. It's coming. It's coming. It's coming. If anticipation could kill, I would already be dead. Before I'd closed my eyes, I'd seen a hint of light in Cyrus' own. He truly believed in his own spiel. Nearly all of our Pokemon were recalled, save for Gengar and Togekiss. We were taking no chances.

"—et me in, let me in!" Mesprit cried out. "Don't open your eyes!"

That was when I knew something had gone wrong.

I couldn't see, but their conversation was impossible to miss.

"He's coming here."

"Here?! Right here?!"
Azelf said in pure disbelief.

"Yes, right here! Stop your barriers from letting light in!" Mesprit said.

"You and I both know that's not how Giratina works—"

"Do your best! Actually you know what, I'll take over. You go out there and tell him that he's being a meanie! You're better than me at that!"
Emotion said.

There was the sound of a struggle. "Mesprit, wha— wait, what are you doing— stop!"

"Okaythankyoubye!"


"What in the world is going on?" Cynthia was the first one to speak out.

"Just a little hiccup!" My vision went dark. Completely dark. It was the difference between closing your eyes during the evening or dusk and doing so in pitch darkness where not even light from the stars or moon could reach. "I told my Shard about it being a possibility, but it turns out Giratina's being a lot more straightforward about what he wants than we thought he would be, haha, um, don't worry about it!" I heard something compact together. The tightening of our shield. "He's going to be right next to us is all. I have it contained."

"Wha— move us, then!" Maylene yelled, and for once, Natalia agreed with her.

"No, he wants a good look at all of the ones he dragged in, that includes all of you. He doesn't understand or care about the consequences that could have, so—" Another compaction, and some crackling. "—we have to work with him instead. At least he warned us!"

"What's happening with Cyrus?" Cynthia asked.

"He's—"

Even with my eyes closed, and within the barrier, I saw it.

A shape, darker than absolute blackness, looming over us all until Mesprit forcefully turned all of us away, yet it was everywhere, and I heard Emotion complain about Giratina being annoying on purpose. It had come from above, a worm-like thing that spanned the length of an entire city with claw-like appendages on its back. The air grew thick and cold, a suffocating blanket of dread that made it hard to draw breath. It was so quiet. So, so quiet you could hear a pin drop on a mattress. A chill crept through my veins, a cold so intense it felt like those wings were wrapping around my heart, squeezing tighter with each passing moment. The darkness behind my closed eyelids seemed to pulse and shift, the shadows moving in ways that defied logic.

Ỷ̴͇̲̳͕̘̩͑̋͗͊̓̎̓͜Ǫ̵̢̤̘̹͚̙̼̯̳͙̩̦͂͗̐̆̄̅̕͝ͅỪ̴̯̓́̐̿̏͒͗̉̽̾͐͝

Not directed at me. It hadn't been directed at me, but all I could do was cower in fear at the thing that was right above me.

"Cyrus is being drawn in." Mesprit was describing the situation to us. "He's walking toward him slowly." None of us wanted to listen to this. We were simply too terrified to make a single sound. "The empty shell is clawing at his face," they giggled. Around twenty seconds later. "He's gouged out his eyes and there's no more skin left— he's been seized. He's being grabbed by spirits. They're bringing him up to—" There was nothing but empty, vapid silence. "Hm. He was taken, but not killed. Interesting. Personally I find this to be a hilarious fate but you people would probably call it horrifying."

What the hell did that mean? I heard someone throw up next to me, and the nausea was starting to get to me too. My fingers could barely move. Slowly, people started to breathe again. In and out, all out of sync, yet hoping we would live to see our world again.

"Yeah, he's gone. Good riddance!" Mesprit said. "Giratina isn't leaving, though. My siblings are talking to him and asking him whether or not we can go home. It looks like he was just after the culprit and wanted to see who else was associated with the empty shell. No one here is, though, so you should be safe! Hurray!"

Get me out of here. Get me out. Out. Out. Out. Out! It was moving inside my eyelids, it was slithering its way inside my ears, nose and eyes. I could feel its presence inside of me. it was everywhere and it wanted me dead. It felt like an endless amount of time passed the next time Mesprit said something else.

"Azelf really is good at this. Rejoice, mortals! You're going back home!"

I didn't want to know what negotiations between that thing and Azelf implied, or how they took place, but I couldn't even feel relief. Not when it was still crawling across my eyelids in ways that my brain couldn't understand.

But then came a release of pressure. The ability to breathe clearly again— though anything felt clear in the absence of Distortion. Finally, my closed eyes could no longer perceive its shape. It slithered away, out of view without a sound. When the barrier went down and we finally opened our eyes again, we found ourselves facing a rift. Giratina wasn't present, thank the fucking Legendaries. There were no remains of Cyrus, but this rift, instead of being purple and ugly and the sign of the world's hidden horrors. It was a tiny circle of beautiful light, large enough to fit all of us. The other side was so bright it took my eyes nearly ten seconds to actually understand what I was looking at.

A field of white flowers, next to a river.

I broke down and sobbed.

Stupid. Of course the real world was still there, Giratina had saved it! But hearing about it and seeing it was different. It hadn't sunk in for me until this very moment, but we…

We had saved the world.

We'd saved the world! Months upon months of torment, doubt and mental anguish… didn't evaporate, but I could finally smile again, so widely my cheeks started to hurt. There were laughs and giggles around me from everyone who must have been thinking the same.

"Let's get on with it, shall we?" Cynthia said.

Her voice was shaking.

Natalia was the first to go, not because of any order, but because she quite literally could not handle being here any longer. She jumped head first into the rift and landed on a patch of flowers, flattening them. She wasn't going to try to run. She knew she wouldn't get very far and that there was no point. Next was Charon and Gengar, followed by Mira, whose face untensed the moment she crossed the threshold, where she began to talk to herself. I'd expected to go last or among the last few, but it was I, who was ushered forward next. I leapt into the portal and further ruined the patch of delicate white flowers we were all landing in. They looked like Lilies, which reminded me of the League.

I was not ashamed to hug the ground. I rubbed my face up against the dirt and enjoyed the feeling of it on my skin. I'd nearly forgotten that it wasn't normal to have constant screams in the back of your mind. It wasn't normal to have the ground constantly shift below you. It wasn't normal to have to keep away the thoughts clawing at your weaknesses. My tears fell onto the flowers and I cried until we were all out. I tightly hugged Cece, Mira, Maylene— hell, I even laughed with Natalia at how joyous everything felt. Call it a truce. A lone Fearow flying overhead was the first thing I saw that truly cemented that we were back.

"We did it," Maylene cried. She looked at me. "We really did it. It's over. Arceus, I could— I could—" She didn't finish that sentence, and her smile faltered for a moment, but it returned just as quickly.

Even Cece was grinning. "I suppose we've passed the worst of the storm. Grace, you don't suppose we could finally do your taxes sometime this week?"

I snorted. We saved the world, I repeated to myself again.

"This place. It's near the Sendoff Spring," Cynthia said. "Said to lead to the great beyond by old texts. It's north-east of the Hotel Grand Lake." She looked into the orange sky with her hand protecting her eyes from the setting sun, and I followed her glance. Even from here, we could see the massive rift stretching across the entirety of the Coronet Mountain range.

Yet, it was closing, little by little. It looked like in ten minutes, it'd be completely gone. Just like Galactic. Just like Cyrus.

The Guardians circled above us, though their expressions were far less ecstatic than ours. They were going to have to leave, to go back to their Lakes. They'd enjoyed the taste of freedom for the first time in thousands of years, and yet they had to give it away. Mesprit slowly approached me, their splendor having returned now that it wasn't being choked out by the Distortion World. It was difficult to look at them for too long.

"Goodbye, Shard…" Mesprit gloomily floated in front of me. "Even if you hated Distortion, I had fun with you."

"...do you already have to go? You could— you could hang around. Be like Mimi—"

A saddened smile was their response. "I cannot be like the ingot. We all have a Role to play, a color to be on the canvas that is His Creation, and I'm afraid I have to go back to fulfill my purpose."

"I understand. Okay."

I never thought I'd actually be sad to see them go.

"Hey!" They pouted, hearing my thoughts. "Before I go, a word of advice! You're feeling a high of emotion right now, but beware. You're exhausted, Shard. What goes up must come down, eventually!" They'd been about to turn around, but—

"Wait!"

I wrapped them in a hug, a real one, this time, not just in their mindscape. They were cold, like ceramic, yet soft regardless. Mesprit nuzzled their head into my neck and closed their eyes, just enjoying the moment.

"We'll stay in touch, okay? I'll come by the Lake when I have time, and don't hesitate to contact me whenever you want. We can talk."

"Hmhm."

Azelf had already said Cecilia goodbye, and by that I meant they'd just glanced in her direction and nodded, while Uxie was the last one to be done with Mira. Once they were done, the three Guardians floated upward and dashed in three separate directions faster than Garchomp, cloaking themselves by making their skin reflect light.

Just like that, in less than a second, they were gone.

I'll miss you, Grace! Mesprit's voice rang out in my head. That... was the first time they'd called me by my name.

Well, not completely gone, thankfully.

Cynthia released Garchomp and had her fly to the League encampment on the flanks of Coronet as fast as she could, and as high as she could so the clouds could hide her. Soon, we'd see everyone again.

Now, it was time to rebuild, and see the cost this monumental effort had, and would cost us.

And sleep, because Legendaries, I was tired.

A/N: One more chapter and that's the end of the arc.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Anarchistofyams, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Zeta, Rain, Jason H, Mads
 
Last edited:
Interlude - Fallout III
INTERLUDE - FALLOUT III

May 5th 20XX, 9:56PM (Shinwa Time/SWT) - Lily of the Valley Island - Grace Pastel


What material were these bed sheets made from? Even after having laid here for two hours, they felt just as cold as they had when I'd first jumped in bed. My back was sinking into the mattress like it was a marshmallow and by the Legendaries, I was exhausted, but my eyes were wide open, looking at every inch of my room. It was a small lodging on the Lily of the Valley Island, which I'd been Teleported back to in the wake of… everything. Putting it in a single word felt as if I wouldn't be doing it justice. A week of nothing but hard work, suffering and just constant fighting that wore down my very soul had lasted an afternoon in the real world. Part of me felt like it hadn't been real. Like it couldn't be over just like that. Without the adrenaline pumping in my veins, the high stakes, the thought that every minute could be my last, well—

I felt a little empty. Purposeless.

My hands gripped at my bedsheets until I turned to my side, toward my nightlight.

I'd left it on. This room wasn't that large and had been hastily made to accommodate me. It was about 30 feet by 30 feet and was constructed with smooth, white walls that curved seamlessly into the floor and ceiling. Out the door, I could see a tiny window leading to an airlock that was the loudest, most annoying thing on the planet whenever someone tried to come in. The air was kept sterile through a complex system of filters and purifiers, humming softly in the background. The room was furnished minimally but comfortably, with a single narrow yet comfortable bed bolted to the floor, a small stainless steel table, and a simple but ergonomic chair.

The scientists who'd led me here had profusely apologized for the awful accommodation, but I honestly couldn't care less. They'd spoken to me in bright white hazmat suits that hid their faces and made me think I was talking to robots, not human beings. A sealed hatch in one wall led to a tiny bathroom with the necessary supplies and a shower. The lighting had had a bright, almost clinical quality, casting no shadows in a way that almost made it look fake, but now that my handlers had turned off the lights, I was left with a single, dim light to keep away the shapes lurking in the corner of my vision.

See, despite Mesprit's endless complaints (to the point of exhausting themselves), this was the first time people had gone into the Dusk in recorded history, and then we even made it back. This was a situation without precedent, and so they'd taken me, along with everyone who'd been in the Distortion World to these tiny capsules overnight with the goal of letting us out at some point tomorrow. Even Cynthia. My Pokemon, including Buddy, had also been taken just in case to be healed in special, sterile facilities. Hopefully I'd see him and Mimi by tomorrow, though. I didn't have any of my personal items— not even my phone— and they'd put me in a medical gown sewn with comfortable cloth. I didn't get to see any of my friends other than getting reassurances that Denzel and Chase were alive, not my parents, and I couldn't even look at the damn news.

I inhaled loudly. The room smelled like cleaning products. Not great, for a 'welcome back'. Now that I was without distraction or the desperate want to survive, not being able to hear out of my left ear was irritating, even if it was just the quiet hum of the vents and machinery, and my right ear still wasn't recovering right. I'd definitely look into hearing aids tomorrow, at least. It shouldn't be difficult getting seen by a doctor right away without wait time.

Even though exhaustion had a tight hold of me, I found drifting off to sleep to be impossible. Not when every time I closed my eyes I could see its shape drifting across my eyelids. Shivering, I wrapped myself tightly in my bed sheets like it was a cocoon and wished one of my Pokemon were here. When was the last time I'd slept without at least one of them in the room? There were tingles on my neck, a very physical feeling that had me thinking that something was about to lunge at me from behind despite that making no sense whatsoever.

My feet swept across the bed as I sat on its side with a groan, then yelped when my bare feet touched the cold floor. How did people sleep alone again? I didn't even have Maylene to watch for danger, and I knew she always slept with an eye open. My hand went above my shoulder to scratch my back, and I stared at the digital clock embedded in the wall to see how much longer I had left until someone was going to show up. 10PM sharp, huh? Was I supposed to just roll around until six in the morning?

"Tired…" I muttered.

Was this what insomnia felt like? Even back when I'd first started my journey, with the nightmares about Golbat and Mars, it had never been this bad. If I was like this, the others probably were, too. Hell, Cynthia was worse, but I doubt she was going to sleep. They were probably constantly updating her on what was going on throughout the region…

Frustrating. I wanted to know what was going on, too. At least the others and my parents knew I was safe, but it was going to be a while until I was going to get a phone.

Pacing around the small room in hopes of exhausting myself, I eventually tried to peek through the airlock to see any hints of activity.

Nothing.

"Damn it." I looked around for something to kick, but there was nothing in the room for me to use. "I'm supposed to… supposed to…"

It was over. The world was saved! I internally screamed those words at myself over and over until my lips stretched into a smile nowhere as wide as it'd been just a few hours prior. The sheer nonchalance of the way I'd been treated like it was just another day, processed, even, had sucked the joy out of me and all that remained was the foreboderance that the world wasn't going to pause after this. They would not sing about us, or know about what we'd done. After all the bombs, the deaths, the tremors around Coronet, the climb, the fights, after everything, it would just be routine, because the gears of the state never stopped turning. It never paused to breathe, because that would bring forth collapse, especially now.

That gave me the ick.

Eventually, though I did not know when, I passed out, and beneath the fear of Giratina, the fear of horrors beyond my comprehension was a single thought, repeating over and over in the back of my mind like water dripping against a stone until erosion would destroy it entirely.

I saved the world. My story is over.



May 6th 20XX, 9:52AM (Shinwa Time/SWT) - Lily of the Valley Island - Cecilia Obel

Finally, Cecilia was out of that cell the League had called a decontamination room, yet she was not free to leave their clutches quite yet. She sat on one of those long chairs you could also lay down on that she forgot the name of… ah, a recliner chair. This reminded her of a therapists' office, not that she'd ever seen one before. Her therapy sessions had always been on the road, after all. The walls were toned with some kind of warm colors, which she guessed the intention was to make her feel warm and safe.

It didn't work. Not only did the light bother her to the point of glaring, but she was colorblind, now. Her face felt tight after the two gashes across her face had been stitched together earlier in the morning, giving her quite the morbid look, or at least that's what Cecilia thought once she looked at herself in the mirror. It'd look better once they were taken out— not that she cared for looks anyway.

Cecilia scrolled through her phone with a deep yawn. She hadn't slept a wink last night, nor had she wanted to. The walls were adorned with framed paintings depicting nature. A group of Buizel swimming upriver, with one jumping up a tiny waterfall to higher ground; a Snorlax lying down in a meadow with two Fletchlings on its stomach; a group of Bouffalant, hundreds strong, grazing across a field. A cute attempt. There was a vase with a bouquet of flowers Cecilia assumed were Lilies on the curved wooden desk with a picture frame she hadn't bothered to look at. Her attention was elsewhere. Out the rather large window, through that glaring sunlight, she could see countless League personnel going about their duties down below, no doubt desperate to keep the region in order. Cynthia was scheduled to give a speech four hours from now, which would be her first appearance since the bombings, and the entire nation was on edge. Cecilia yawned as she scrolled through her phone.

Where to begin? The two biggest headlines of the day were 'Sinnoh Attacked! Countless Bombs Detonated by Team Galactic,' with the precision that they'd found 12,345 deaths so far and climbing, albeit slower. There were slightly more than that wounded, filling makeshift hospitals built in hotel lobbies and school gyms. The second headline was 'Massive Rift Opens Above Mount Coronet: Unprecedented Phenomenon Stuns The Country'. Stuns was the correct word to use, here. Even now, as the nation was mourning, the internet and the news were foaming at the mouth to understand what the hell that had been. Legendary was the word on most people's lips. They believed that Team Galactic had taken control of a Legendary and nearly wiped out the region, which was admittedly close, but also far off the mark.

But it was the forums that Cecilia found herself glued to. Even after all of this, there was a connection she had with trainers that she didn't have with any other community. Unlike before, the League was no longer censoring information with their Porygon and deleting threads, but all discussions about the rift specifically had to be contained to a single thread who already was on its 112th iteration, even with a cooldown of 5 minutes between a user's every post.

TierFive5

We know the government's hiding information about Legendaries. We'd be stupid to think the opposite, and I assume that's the case for literally every country. The question is, is Cynthia going to tell us about it or is she just gonna do the typical government speak for 'we know what the fuck it is, and we're not telling you'.

Ssoosnakey124543

We haven't seen her in way too long, tbh. She might be dead and they're scrambling to replace her with a Ditto for a while until she mysteriously 'retires' and is never heard from again. My cousin and his son died in the bombings, and the government is going to lie to us again. Fuck them.

Rajafern

I mean, there has to be a reason her speech won't be given in public and won't have any reporters present. What if it's an edited clip of her with multiple audio clips of her voice stitched together? An AI video of her powered by Porygon?

Then, she set her eyes on a familiar name.

Archive

I wouldn't go that far, but they're defo going to keep this shit under tight wraps. Are you hearing what's going on internationally? Almost all of the Champions have given statements about wanting to know more, which is their way of subtly pressuring us into contacting their governments to share information about capital L Legendary incidents as has been custom since the war, but I don't know if Cynthia will share.

KreeLily1

Shut up and stick to podcasting about battles, lil bro. Stay in your lane.

Marcus_Paul (Verified Trainer)

Can you motherfucking conspiracy brained pieces of shit lay off the drugs for one damn second and use your heads.

Hm. Cecilia was surprised that post hadn't been deleted, but the moderators must have been working overtime without as many Porygon to scrape the website.

Before she could keep reading, the door softly opened, and Cecilia found herself face to face with a stranger. "Sorry for the wait, I was being briefed about your entire situation." He was a rather stout man with a bit of belly fat, but with one the brightest eyes she'd ever seen that had her thinking he was blind for a second. Was that blue? Or hazel, maybe? She couldn't tell. He walked across the room to his desk, which was sitting on the side right next to the window, and sat down after raking the chair against the ground as softly as he could. He wore the normal, orange-ish League Uniform, though this one looked a little tight for him. The uniform was draped in a white coat that League Scientists wore around here with an insignia embroidered on the chest. "My name is Dr. Sanders, and I've been assigned to you this morning. Now, how are you feeling?"

Contrary to appearances, this man was no therapist. She'd refused to see her old one again later today, because who could help her, at this point?

"Fine," she shortly answered, turning away from him. She instead looked at the books in Dr. Sanders' bookshelf, close to the door. Most of it had to do with TE research of some kind, and some were even attributed to himself.

Once Dr. Sander realized that had been her only answer, he grabbed a pen from his desk and tapped it on a clipboard he dragged from a drawer. "Before we begin, I'd like to tell you my credentials—" Cecilia's eyes twitched. "—not to brag, but for you to know that you're in good hands." Then, he paused and just looked at her with something deep in his eyes. "You've been through a lot, Cecilia."

Had that been supposed to make her feel better? She rolled her eyes and opted just to nod so he would get on with his tirade. Dr. Sanders rapidly pressed on the clicker mechanism on his pen and took a deep breath.

"I have a PhD in Type Energy and how it affects the human condition. I've published numerous papers on the matter," he nudged his head toward his bookshelf, "and written many books on the topic. I've worked as a Professor in Jubilife's Barauche's University for twenty-five years, after which I was hired by the League for my expertise in the topic." Dr. Sanders cleared his throat, tapping his pen on his clipboard. "Let's begin with a question. What do you know about Type Energy and its effects on people?"

Cecilia reclined herself on her chair and finally put her phone down. "My girlfriend was overloaded by her Togekiss— a Togetic at the time, and it made her act more fairy-like by accentuating some of her traits."

"Excellent. A Basic understanding, and not particularly wrong, just like we oversimplify that there are only three states of matter in schools." A smile reached the man's thin lips. "Though I took a look at Grace's case before coming here, and I'd push that the consequences of her connection with the Domain Holder on route 215 and its teachings can't be understated— but this is about you."

Finally, the glare of the sun became too much. "Can you—can you close the window shutters, please." It wasn't as if it was impossible for her to be out during the day, or even that it hurt her eyes. Cecilia was confident she'd be able to handle it as long as she had before her death. It was just unpleasant. Dr. Sanders followed with a wordless acquiescence, instead turning on a dimmer light on the ceiling. "Thank you."

"Now, as the situation was described to me, and as you told the League yesterday night, you died and used Perish Song to… resurrect yourself." His tight uniform couldn't contain the trembling breath he seemingly wanted to take after that. The whole idea had him uncomfortable. "This means your body took in—"

"I know," she cut him off. "I know already. The way I behaved has drastically changed because of these feelings I get."

The doctor slowly nodded as he scribbled something down. "I understand—" before she could interrupt him again, he spoke over her. "No, I do. I am the most qualified person in the country for this topic— though some of my peers may disagree." A saddened smile fell as soon as it appeared. "I've studied four ghost specialists in my time here, including Ailwyn Serche. I understand."

Ailwyn Serche. Radetic's second-hand man, and previous Elite Four member, somewhat like Lucian Godefroy was to Cynthia now. He'd had mostly ghost type Pokemon, of whom his ace had been a Dhelmise, and he'd died of old age in Pastoria a few years back. Even if he'd been ridden of all his political power and reputation, he was the only one who had remained in Sinnoh of the previous administration. Cecilia understood that by ghost specialist, he must have meant people who were actually affected by TE here.

"I'm not a ghost specialist," she bit back, though with less strength than she wanted to. Her voice finally returned to its… usual quiet.

"But you have the body of a ghost type specialist who's been alive for far longer than you are with Pokemon far more powerful than you currently possess, and you're looking at acquiring a Spiritomb next," Dr. Sanders said. His tone wasn't even patronizing, but the idea that she was still so weak after everything she'd been through tasted like ashes in her mouth. "I'll try to explain. You see, for all my expertise, there's actually very little we know in terms of rules for Type Energy. Rare is it imbibed enough to make a difference regardless, and when it is…" he smirked. "Of the four ghost type specialists I've studied— five including you, do you think two have been the same?"

Cecilia leaned forward. Outside, she heard the ringing of a bell inside League Headquarters as the clock struck ten in the morning. It was easy to see that Dr. Sanders was partly enjoying this. Posing questions, and waiting for an answer. Cecilia presumed it was the teacher in him.

"No," she guessed.

"Exactly. The same can be said for every specialist, really, though there will often be some common effects." The excitement in his voice was palpable. Cecilia felt a little like a specimen he could study instead of a patient he was meant to help. "For example, your distaste of sunlight was shared by three ghost specialists, including Ailwyn himself, but not Riley Gutierrez."

That name, Cecilia couldn't place. Maybe a high-ranking League Trainer, or an ACE, or a Conference Regular. Someone who'd have passed by the League enough times and was powerful enough to catch Sanders' eye.

The doctor followed by asking her how she believed she'd changed since her resurrection. Her inability to see color had been something every ghost specialist suffered from, including the famous ones like Allister in Galar.

"What about Fantina, then?" she asked.

"Fantina asked her ghosts to cut off their leakage decades ago, so she only got a mild dose," Dr. Sanders explained as he continued writing about her symptoms. "That was courtesy of her predecessor who did the same."

Satisfied with the answer, she continued. The inability to speak loudly save for periods of intense emotion was just her, the numbness and coldness at her extremities was common, as was that prickle of pleasure she felt whenever someone was scared of her. Again, her tendency to let her neck or limbs to go limp like a puppet without strings as if she'd learned an entirely new body language was just her— something Sanders theorized had to do with the fact that Golurk were constructs.

But it was emotion, that was biggest problem she was currently facing.

"Ghosts are very emotional creatures," he said, wagging a finger intently. "They are, after all, born from lingering emotions. Hate is something that binds them, but that is often overshadowed by the myriad of other complex feelings. The crux of the issue is this— these feelings are always negative."

Her throat tightened, and she clenched a fist around the couch's leather.

"That doesn't mean they aren't capable of feeling positive ones like love, joy, excitement, et cetera." He waved a hand in a dismissive motion. "Just that it is more difficult for them to do so. The question is, what emotions have wormed its way into your heart, Cecilia?"

She pondered it for a moment, as if it wasn't obvious. Writ across her very soul, having seized it in a vice grip that threatened to pop her like a balloon.

"I don't know," she finally answered. "Actually, I—I do know, but it's..."

"Take your time."

"I know I can take my time," she snarled. Her nails dug into the couch. "I can't be happy with myself. There's that, but there's also regret at what I've done, a feeling of inadequacy, and…" Jealousy could be omitted. She wasn't even sure that had anything to do with her condition anyway. Just that she had issues keeping it down. "I feel worthless, and I can't keep the thoughts contained. It's like they get forcefully sent to my brain and I have to vocalize them. I have to face them."

Dr. Sanders' fingers tapped against the desk as he finished writing his report. "Regret and doubt, hm? Riley was revenge, Ailwyn was bitterness, Nyla was humiliation and loneliness; this is only the second time I've seen someone have two— ah, but I'm rambling." He went on to explain that regarding her sleeping issues, she would suffer from insomnia, something that all his subjects had been dealt with. "I know you have a Slowking with the move Hypnosis being healed at the moment, but I'll always be the first to say that one shouldn't develop a dependency to anything Pokemon-related. The more you use it, the less you'll be able to sleep without. If push comes to shove, I have the authority to give you a sleeping pill prescription."

So that was why she hadn't even felt like closing her eyes yesterday night after everything. Her body felt… fine, but she trusted this man's words, even if her opinion of strangers veered toward dislike, now.

"I have another question for you, if you don't mind?" he questioned.

Like she deserved a choice.

She inclined her head. "Go ahead."

He blinked at her. Had she tilted her neck more than necessary? Had it lasted too long? He audibly gulped. "We've covered most of what we need to cover—"

Her phone rang, a message from her friends' group chat. Pauline had asked for how everyone was doing, which was her fifth message in the last hour. Her, Emilia and Louis had met again and were waiting for Cecilia and the others to be done with their obligations. Both Mira's uncle and Natalia had been moved to the League's high security prison, as had Clara and any surviving Team Galactic members, of whom there weren't that many. Grace was currently with Maylene doing tests for their future hearing aids… her heart squeezed. At least the Gym Leader would be Teleported back in Veilstone within the next hour. Cecilia fully believed she did not deserve to question their closeness, nor their friendship, but it was unpleasant all the same.

She needed to see Grace. Needed to bask in her warmth now that she was so cold. Once, in Sunyshore, Cecilia had called her the sun, and it felt truer now than it ever had.

As for Chase and Denzel? They were still in the hospital, and they were planning to visit with the others. As it turned out, Denzel's case had been a lot worse than Chase's. More insidious. While her old half had already awoken, Denzel was still asleep, under a medically-induced coma to reduce the horrible pain he was under.

"Cecilia?" Him calling out her name had her realize that he'd been doing so for the last ten seconds.

"I apologize, I got lost in my own thoughts. What is it?"

"This is for my own research, so feel free to ignore me if you don't want to answer." He waited a bit to see if she would deny him right away, but continued when he saw that she did not. "You've made your desire to head back to Unova known, and it's no secret, even there, that you will be aiming for the position of Champion within the next few years." Click. Click. Click. The clicking of his pen was deafening. She hated that tic, and for no particular reason. "Do you still feel the same? This is to log if being overtaken by regret or doubt is enough to change a person's motivation."

She chewed on his words for a few seconds, and leaned against her palm. There was a rot permeating through Unova, yet the majority of the population was blind to it, preferring to opt not to rock the boat because the truth was, it wasn't that bad if you didn't pay attention. Look inside every crevice where malice could hide away from the public eye. No matter how hard the so-called 'extremist' parties beat their drums, their hopes of getting a majority was thin, and even then that would only be the first hurdle.

Her need to help the people— that had nearly all evaporated. In fact, she was almost angry at them for being so blind and sleep-walking toward oblivion. A full-fledged corporatocracy, not just an incomplete one, where candidates would be able to represent businesses instead of the people. It had already been brought up in parliament two years back, yet had failed.

The want to change the country for the better was still lit deep within her, yet it was a campfire where it had once been a conflagration big enough to reach the sky. Her revenge against her father, showing Mark how it should be done, going scorched earth on Unova's corporate world and weaning them out over her potential reign— all of that now came second to 'am I good enough?' Would she be able to cope and feel like anything she would ever get from this day forth was deserved?

A "yes," was her only answer.

Dr. Sanders deflated, arms gone limp against his desk and no doubt having hoped for more. "Then I suppose we're done here."



May 6th 20XX, 10:19AM (Shinwa Time/SWT) - Lily of the Valley Island - Maylene Suzuki

The large, padded headphones covering Maylene's head felt like they were suffocating her, even if that made little sense. She sat in a large, soundproof booth with soft, padded walls that absorbed sound and prevented any echoes. Honestly, it looked more like a tiny living room than an audiology clinic, but Maylene knew one of the pluses that the League and Pokemon Centers had over a lot of private clinics was that they made you feel right at home.

A voice rang out in her ears. "Horsea. Mimikyu. Airport…"

The Gym Leader repeated them as soon as she could, happy that this was the last test she would have to go through. The last few had been rather invasive to her ears and the idea of someone analyzing her body to tinker with it gave her the creeps. She'd had many nightmares in her younger years involving surgery, and she had a deathly fear of anything doctor-related. Before getting to the clinic and after seeing her parents, Grace had told her that it was because her body was so strong she'd basically never had to go to the doctor, and Maylene figured that made sense—

"Are you having trouble hearing, Ms. Suzuki?"

"Wha— no!" she yelled. "Can we— can we start over?"

Maylene continued with the test, though soon enough the doctor whose name she'd forgotten was lowering the volume in her good ear to check the actual damage in her left. She could see him tweaking with sliders near a huge monitor whose back was facing her. Having something wrong with your body was terrifying, and she forced herself not to grip the chair she was sitting on too hard, lest she rip apart the armrests on accident. After around five minutes, the deed was done and she was finally out of that cramped room, back into a homely office.

Her friend Grace was reclined against her chair with deep bags under her eyes. She hadn't slept for very long— two hours at most. Maylene felt awful for her. The Gym Leader had slept like a log as soon as her head hit the bed, having been too exhausted to even care for any nightmares or visions she might get. And she did get them.

Grace looked deep in thought, uncaring for strands of her dirty blonde hair drooping in front of her eyes as she tapped a delicate finger on the cushioned armrest. Literally delicate. She'd taken off the bandages on her hands this morning, and the skin was all new and pink, a sharp contrast to her burned and scarred arm. Though she was delicate, too. Soft and squishy— like every person other than Maylene. It was a miracle she'd survived that long. She was wearing loose fitting gray jogging pants and a t-shirt that was off-center, leaving one of her shoulders a bit exposed. The Gym Leader's eyes darted away immediately as her face heated up.

The average-looking doc motioned at Maylene to sit. Well-kept brown hair, eyes and a bit of stubble. There were hundreds of him at the League, yet Maylene was certain Cynthia knew each one of their names. Now that he was back at his desk, Grace finally noticed her, and like a switch had been flipped, she put a mask on and disappeared the worry from her face.

She was pretending to be okay, and seeing it kind of hurt.

"How'd it go?" the blonde asked with a sad smile.

Since her left ear was facing her, Maylene made sure to be loud with her answer. "I don't know? I mean, doctor…"

"Thornfield," he said with a somewhat nasal voice. "And Ms. Suzuki's ears are in a much better condition than yours, Ms. Pastel, but don't worry, I'll work as fast as I can to make you both more comfortable. Now, the next step is a trial period for both of you."

He went on to explain that they'd be able to pick out hearing aids, and what kind of hearing aid until they settled on something that fit their needs. Usually this took one to two weeks, up to even a month while the patient tried out different models. Maylene already knew she wasn't going to pick one of the ones that had to be put in the ear canal. She'd honed in on this 'Behind-the-ear' stuff as soon as Dr. Thornfield brought it up. After he went over each type of hearing aid, he brought with him a case full of them from a room behind his office, most of them white or dull grays. He recommended a slew of models in line with the tests he'd run. They could only pick one, though. Maylene just grabbed one at random, and followed instructions on a sheet of paper he'd slid down his desk to put it on herself.

Her ear felt a little tense, but she figured she'd get used to it.

"How does it sound?" the doctor asked.

"Wow," Grace exclaimed.

Yeah, 'wow' was right. Maylene had no idea what Grace had meant in terms of volume, but the way the sound transmitted in her ear was a little robotic.

"It's a little artificial?" Grace frowned and ran a finger along the cartilage of her ear. She'd picked one of the ones that fit neatly in the ear canal, and it'd be hard to see thanks to her long hair. "And everything sounds louder than it used to be in my ear."

"You're free to try any other if you wish." The doctor gestured at the hearing aids with his hand. "But remember, it always sounds odd at first. I'd give it a few days of adjustment if I were you. Ms. Suzuki?"

"There's a little imbalance, I think?" Maylene tried moving her head to capture different sounds around the office. The steps beyond the door, the ticking of a clock hung on the wall, the Starly chirping outside. "Like, I think the background noises are louder in my left ear, now?"

"Ah, that is an issue. Sometimes the device will have a tough time picking up different sounds, and the end result is that background noise is as loud as voices. It can be especially disturbing when you can hear normally in your other ear. Pick another one."

She listened, and her next hearing aid was much better suited for her needs. Granted, Dr. Thornfield was adamant in saying that they couldn't be certain before they spent at least a week with them so they experienced as many sounds as possible.

"When you find one that's right for you, we'll fine tune it until it's perfect. And remember, my office is always open if you have a question. Oh, and here's my email or office number…"

After they were finished, they were left in a calm hallway that was calmer than expected, considering how busy the League was, at the moment. This was one of the medical buildings, but not for emergencies like the massive Pokemon Center near the middle of the island with all of the stadiums. The beige tiles were slippery, having been cleaned earlier this morning. There was even a yellow sign with a stick figure posted up by the end of the hall. Everything was so normal despite the fact that it shouldn't have been.

"Hey, I didn't get a good look at yours," Grace said. Maylene's hair had always been cut short, but her friend staring so intently at her face made her face feel warm. "It looks fine! I wish we could customize them a little bit. Give them a bit of pep. I'd get a pink one myself. You should get one too, it'd go well with your hair." What?! "Wanna take a look at mine?"

Something about her tone rang hollow, but Maylene didn't know how to approach her. She'd asked to stay in contact, but she now realized that she had no idea how to interact with Grace when their survival wasn't in immediate jeopardy.

"Sure," she said, leaning against the glossy walls. She had looked at it already, but it would be weird to just say no to that.

Grace pulled strands of her hair behind her ear, revealing the gray hearing aid stuffed neatly in her ear canal. The sun was shining just right through a window to have her face glow in a really pretty way, accentuating the freckles that peppered her cheeks and nose. Something inside Maylene squeezed, probably worry and squeamishness at the idea of having something buried inside of her ear like that.

She turned away, rubbing the back of her neck. "W—woah. Does it feel weird?"

"A little, but I assume I'll get… used to it," she sighed.

Maylene waited for a group of League employees to pass to continue. The sound of their steps was a little louder in her left ear than in her now-healed right. "Hey, what's— did the meeting with your parents not go well?"

She answered with a dry, morbid laugh. "I guess? Pretty much nothing went right after the first five minutes. It was just… you know, they're my parents. They want to know what's going on, and I get it, but they can't, so there was a bit of yelling."

"They yelled at you?"

"No. I, uh, I yelled at them because they kept prying into stuff, and I just don't want to talk about it," Grace said. "Then I used this meeting with the audiologist as an excuse to leave, but that's when they figured my ears had a problem. Then you know, my grandma died and my mom—" She groaned. "Whatever, I'll deal." Grace went to lean against the wall close to Maylene, which the Gym Leader had done specifically to escape. Now she was stuck. "It should only get better from here. Right?"

Something about that 'right' was too subdued, as if Grace had been asking Maylene that question.

"I think so. I mean, if Cynthia nails this speech and we get a sense of normalcy back, then… yeah." Maylene hadn't spoken much to the other Gym Leaders beyond assurances that she was fine. There hadn't been enough time yet to do anything but talk to official after official. At least she had assurances that the League had sent trainers to look for her Pokemon now that the mountain was finally calmed. She would have gone there herself, had duties in Veilstone not been calling. "Just try to take it one day at a time, step by step. The biggest hurdle is behind us."

Grace pushed herself off the wall, turned and gave her a real smile. "Thanks, Maylene."

She couldn't help but return it.

"What now?" Grace asked. "Off to Veilstone?"

"There's going to be a virtual meeting with all of the Gym Leaders, and I can't miss it. I wish I could stay, I really do, but—"

"No, no, you're good. I'm not going to tell you not to do your job," she said. "We can message, it's cool. Plus I need to go see the others anyway after I go catch up with Cece. I'm going to have to hide the truth again." Her expression turned a little sad at that.

Huh. Maylene was a little disappointed at that reaction. She wanted to feel needed— Legendaries, that was selfish of her. Her people needed her, even if Veilstone had been spared from the bombings. She'd never been like this with any of her other friends, but Grace was her first friend her age, really. And maybe spending a week straight with her had Maylene anxious to separate.

"You look nervous. I'll walk you out," Grace said. "A Kadabra's probably waiting for you outside. Oh, also give me your number before you go!"

"Hmhm. Thanks."

Her throat felt dry.



May 6th 20XX, 10:34AM (Shinwa Time/SWT) - Lily of the Valley Island - Chase Karlson

The last thing Chase had wanted when waking up was for a man in his fifties to touch his bare legs with his hands and a steel rod. His life the last twenty-four hours… man, how long had it even been? More than that? His life lately had been him drifting in and out of consciousness in-between surgeries and delirious dreams of Cecilia being dead. Luckily for him, now he knew that his friends were alive. Even Denzel, that tough son of a bitch. Abomasnow…

"Your Abomasnow is on life support, at the moment, but it's not looking good. The best we can do at the moment is put him in stasis in hopes that medical technology one day catches up," had been the only words afforded to him, and he'd had to scream for an answer that wasn't fucking wishy-washy. Usually grass types were tough to survive nearly anything you threw at 'em, but this hadn't been a normal attack. That Wigglytuff had swallowed a mini-sun and thrown it back at them in the form of a plasma beam.

Abomasnow was alive, but in limbo. How many years would it be until Chase actually saw him again? Talked to him again? His Pokemon was effectively dead. They just didn't have the guts to tell him like that.

He didn't cry. He would save those for when he was alone, even if he felt so, utterly empty.

He still hadn't delivered the news to Wimpod, and the rest of his team would be getting healed for the time being. The bug type was sleeping in her Pokeball. She'd nearly cried herself to sleep once Chase had released her.

"How about here?"

Chase had suffered from mild burns all over his body, but those would heal. Some would scar, and they were all neatly bandaged. That wasn't to say he would be cleared to leave the hospital any time soon, however. He would need to stay here for weeks to heal, but at least he was no longer at risk of bleeding out, with how they'd stuck needles in him to gorge him with new blood.

The real problem was his legs. It felt weird to see someone touch your skin, yet to be able to feel nothing. With each test, Chase sank further and further into his soft hospital bed. The doctor had touched all over the thigh and had now moved on to the foreleg, but even then, he couldn't feel a thing. At least that meant that the pain was also not there other than his burned skin and his lower back, which still felt like a searing hot knife had pierced through him like butter. Supposedly it was a miracle that he had even kept his legs. Chase didn't like the sound of that. He could sniff out false encouragement from a mile away.

"Same fucking thing," Chase spat. "Nothing."

The older man nodded with a knowing sound, and cleared his throat. "My colleagues have told me that you would rather have bad news given to you straight. Is this true?"

"Yeah," he dryly said.

There was a short pause, where he could only hear the beeping of his heart monitor and the soft sound of the television playing in the upper right corner. It was SGNC with Mallory Ryan, talking about Cynthia's upcoming speech and Sinnoh's sorry state.

"Mr. Karlson, there's no easy way to say this. I'm afraid I have some difficult news to share with you. The injury to your spine has resulted in paralysis from the waist down."

What? His heart lunged in his throat, accompanied by bile that begged to be released all over his bed.

"P—paralysis?" the teen, suddenly turned into a boy again stuttered. "You mean you don't have anything to make my legs better?"

"I understand this is a lot to process. It appears the trauma has affected the nerves controlling your lower body—"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Suddenly, he didn't want someone to just rip off the band-aid. This was going too fucking fast. His head was spinning. "Is—is it permanent?"

"It's too early to say definitively, but given the nature of the injury, the chances of a full recovery are uncertain. We will, of course, explore all possible treatments and therapies to help you regain function."

"How— this can't be real. Run some tests again, do something, anything. I can't be a fucking cripple."

"I know this is overwhelming, but please remember you're not alone in this. We have specialists who will work with you to adapt and find ways to improve your quality of life." He placed a hand on Chase's shoulder. "There are support groups and resources available as well, and having Pokemon makes this… it won't be easy, but you'll have a lot of help. There have been plenty of disabled trainers successful in the past."

This wasn't even about being a trainer.

This was about who he was as a person. After his father died, he'd vowed to never be weak again, and now… Chase gripped at his hair and clenched his teeth so hard they felt like they were on the verge of falling off. What happened next was a blur. He remembered hands keeping him restrained against the bed, screams to calm down, worries about him hurting himself— he barely remembered any of it, by the time he was warned that his friends were about to visit. "You have the right to refuse company if you're not ready," one of the nurses had said, and Chase seriously considered it.

But he couldn't say no.

They all filtered into the cramped room. Mira first, that little shrimp, crying tears of happiness that he was going to be alright. She hugged him so tightly he felt like he was going to explode, especially with the pain in his back, but seeing a friend had him a little less queasy, so he said nothing.

Pauline and Emilia were next, and while he had campaigned against their involvement, he couldn't deny that they'd saved him from dying. Yeah, his legs were fucked, but he wasn't about to think he wish he could be dead. Fuck that. He still needed to see Abomasnow whenever they'd be able to bring him out of stasis, and the Iron Islands were still under the League's boot. Saved world or not, the gears kept turning. Louis looked a lot better than he had now that the world had been saved, but Justin's death still weighed on his mind the most.

Grace looked like absolute shit, as if her entire world had collapsed in one night, but she made that face she had whenever she didn't want to bring down the mood and motioned Cece into the room.

Chase winced when he saw her face. He'd heard about what had happened to her, with her crazy plan to get herself killed to take down Jupiter. He was too tired to yell at her for it, and it wasn't even her fault. With two long rows of stitches across her face, and eyes that had had lost their color, she looked like she'd gone through the ringer. Chase tensed. He should have been here with her. They were— had been— two sides of a coin. Two sides of Willpower.

He'd let her down. He'd let them all down, really.

There weren't enough chairs here to accommodate everyone, but enough to fit Grace and Cecilia. The former just sagged on hers while the latter tried to protest and give it to someone else instead, to no avail. They were plastic. Uncomfortable, narrow and with a backrest that was flimsy enough to bend way more than what was good for your back, but as the two who had climbed Coronet and saved the world, they deserved far better than to sit on some chairs.

Emilia was the first to speak. "How are you feeling? Better than yesterday?"

"I mean, yesterday, he was…" Pauline trailed off and uncomfortably twirled a finger in her red hair. "Yeah, anything is better than yesterday. I'm surprised you're awake, Chase."

Normally, he would have bit back with a scathing statement, but the energy just wasn't there.

"Yeah," he simply answered with a shrug. It pulled at the skin on his lower back, which made him hiss, and now everyone was swarming over him, worrying for nothing. "I'm serious," he reiterated in an ironclad manner. "I'll be fine."

But really, he had no idea if he would be.

Louis nodded tightly. "If you say so. You've always been rather headstrong—" Chase glared at him. "It was meant to be a compliment."

"Chase's always been bad at taking those," Pauline teased.

Even Grace smiled. "It took, what, three months for us to actually become friends?"

"Yeah, yeah, laugh about it." For a moment, Chase was back to months ago, where he didn't have much to worry about. His chest felt a little warm, even, despite dreading the challenges lying ahead.

There was a… it was difficult to explain. He'd never been the best at this mood or vibes shit, but it was light, at least, and how could it not be? They'd avoided catastrophe. Avoided billions dying. It made Chase forgo asking them about what actually happened up there in more detail. He knew the League would want to hide it, but he was a fucking Shard. He deserved to know.

It was something he'd ask about later.

It was Emilia, who carried most of the conversation, with Pauline following close behind. Every time there was a lull and the reality of the situation sank, they were the first to bring up something else. Mostly, they tried Circuit-related stuff, but they all knew it would probably be put on hold. None of the Gym Leaders were ready to come back to work, and it'd be tone deaf if everything just resumed like nothing had happened and over ten-thousand people hadn't died. Mira had quieted down, watching her phone like a hawk. Probably Lauren stuff.

"Feels like this would be more suited for Denzel. You know, when he wakes up," Chase said. Emilia had shown them footage of a few of the other first-years who had gotten or were close to the eighth badge. "He'd go crazy for this kind of first year rival stuff beyond those he already knows."

Emilia agreed. "Hmhm. The doctors won't tell me much. Did you know his parents are coming to visit soon?"

Grace flinched. "Who told you that?"

"Uh, I mean they— they were pretty public on the news and stuff, about how the League nearly got their kid killed. Plus, Twinleaf was attacked by Dusknoir. It was a big deal interview last night," Emilia said, scratching her nose next to her piercing. "I guess you were all… yeah."

"Not that you should feel guilty for what happened!" Louis quickly added.

Chase rolled his eyes. "Fuck off. You're fine. Don't coddle me because I'm in a hospital—"

"What about your legs?"

Cecilia's voice cut through the room sharply, quiet yet capable of capturing their attention. She had mostly kept out of the conversation, only talking when spoken to, and this was the first thing she brought up on her own?!

"Yeah. I—" the truth died in his throat. "I'll get better, but it'll take a while. Now get off my case and stop ruining the mood."

The reunion continued without losing much of its cheerfulness, though Cecilia just looked at him the whole time. Surprisingly, she started to speak more often after that, even if her stare weirded him out. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. They were friends, now. They'd made a promise to each other on the shores of his destroyed town. After about an hour, they had to leave to go see Denzel, or at least his comatose body. They all filtered out the door—

"Go ahead, baby, I'll be right with you, I just gotta talk to Chase for a sec." Grace spoke before closing the door behind Cecilia. She dragged the chair close to the bed and sat on it again. "Hey."

"Hey?"

"Why'd you lie about your legs?" she asked.

So innocent. So innocent, yet the look behind her eyes felt like prickling all over his skin. Even his fucked up lower half.

"What do you mean?" He tried putting on fake bravado there, but she wasn't convinced. "Did you fucking use your powers on me?!" Grace's face fell, and immediately, a tide of guilt hit Chase like a truck. "That's not what I—"

He didn't want them to think of him differently. To start fucking pitying him and handling him with kid gloves just because he'd been so hurt.

"I could tell because you obviously didn't mean it. You're awful at lying," she said, getting up from her chair. "I gotta— I gotta go. Hopefully you tell the others sooner rather than later."

Chase's shoulders slumped.

Fuck.



May 6th 20XX, 11:59AM (Shinwa Time/SWT) - Veilstone - Maylene Suzuki

Veilstone had been happy to see Maylene back in the city. She'd never felt so adored by the people she represented ever, not even when she'd first ascended to her position with her father's backing. He'd been known as a stern, yet dependable leader who always had the city's best interests at heart, and while she believed that was true, she couldn't bring herself to actually think of him any positively now, especially after her conversation with Cecilia in the Distortion World.

God, she would have to face the music soon. He'd needed to stop his plane coming from Alola in Johto due to Sinnoh closing its airspace for the time being and grounding or redirecting every plane, but she had a few days to prepare herself mentally at best, and her step-mother would be here too, damn it.

But she needed to worry about today. It had been a long time since she'd been in her office. It was a minimalist room, a style that she was fond of, but unlike her actual bedroom in her living quarters, she needed at least a laptop and a desk to use, not just a mat to sleep on. Out the window, she had a view of Veilstone in its full glory. All concrete and a bit ugly, yes, but also a sign of resilience to her. That humanity had managed to survive and stick it out in a world so hostile to them. There weren't that many people out in the streets. There were still fears of another bombing run, and Veilstoners had been in a prime position to observe that rift in the sky. Everyone was on edge.

Maylene shook herself back to awareness. She was getting sidetracked. On the left of her computer was a tab open with all of her important emails, filtered to only show her the ones from specific people. The police chief, people in the city council, multiple Pokemon Centers, so on and so forth. Now wasn't the time for her to get distracted by a random trainer emailing her about when her Gym would be open for challenges again, or thanking her for somehow having magically stopped Veilstone for being bombed even though she'd had nothing to do with it.

Yes, both of those messages had been real.

On the right of her screen was a virtual meeting with eight squares. Her fellow Gym Leaders were all on time— even Candice. They knew this was no routine call or meeting. This was an emergency needing their full attention. They'd all been busy the last two days keeping the Region Together with Bertha and Lucian in Cynthia and the other Elite Four's absence (it still was extremely odd to her that so little time had passed for everyone else), and now that Maylene was back, they figured it was time for a meeting.

It was Fantina who took the lead, her typical radiant smile replaced by a somber look. There was no makeup on her face, and her hair hadn't been styled like it usually would, instead cascading down her back. For once, she actually looked her age. "Thank you all for being so punctual," she said in her usual Kalosian accent. "For the purpose of transparency, this part of the call is being logged by the League and will be recorded. The date is May 6th 20XX, one minute past noon, and the purpose of this meeting is to see where everyone is currently at."

Hearthome had been the city the second hardest hit behind Jubilife. Surprisingly, the Sinnoh's capital hadn't sent a representative to the meeting, and neither had any other small city without a Gym Leader, but Maylene hadn't been the one to organize it. She figured there would be another one later with far more faces and chaos that she would again have to show up for.

Most of what followed was procedure, and then what the most urgent matter in each city was. Not the only places that had been bombed, but the most worst ones. Candice complained about Snowpoint being undermanned, even with help from other cities, but Sinnoh was being stretched thin right now. Not enough cops, not enough League Trainers, not enough government Pokemon, not enough medical personnel, not enough firemen to save people from the rubble— damn it, she should be out there helping another city instead of sitting in an office. She was worth at least thirty people by herself. Snowpoint's port also needed to be fixed by this winter, or people would suffer from lack of supplies or maybe even starve.

Nia said that the tramways connecting her city would be nonfunctional for what looked like weeks, if not months, which would stop a lot of people without cars from getting where they needed to go, including work. Sunyshore was much in the same boat, but since the city was smaller in size and more dense, they didn't have as big of a problem. Their famous boardwalk was utterly ruined, though, which didn't bode well for a city that relied on tourism as its third largest source of income after its tech sector and selling off energy. A lot of the stores and restaurants had been bombed to shreds, killing the people who'd been dining inside on a beautiful summer day, and the local insurance companies were going to go bankrupt before being able to pay so much at once without help from the government— not there weren't going to be insurance problems everywhere else, only on a smaller scale. That didn't even cover life insurance from so many deaths at once…

Blegh. She hated thinking like this. Assigning a value to the victims.

When Fantina spoke up again, it was about how their famous Contest Hall was in ruins. From what Maylene knew, Hearthome sat at the center of the region and relied heavily on trainers passing through for income, but it also had a parallel economy going with the biggest contest scene in the country. Numerous businesses or places of gathering had also been bombed. As for Roark, though he tried to appear in high spirits for their morale, he let them know that the Oreburgh gate had been collapsed by Team Galactic, meaning the city was cut off from Jubilife for the time being. Even if his own personal team was there to move things quickly, the fact that there were trainers trapped or injured in the tunnel meant that they had to be meticulous about it.

There were good news—

No, not good news. Just not terrible news. Pastoria and Canalave had gotten off easy relative to the other cities, which was weird to think because Maylene knew Grace had lost her friend Justin in the Canalave Library. Functionally, though, the city port was still functional, so the Iron Islands wouldn't be cut off from the world. Furthermore, A Weezing's Self-Destruct had been contained by a League psychic before it could explode on Canalave's Drawbridge, where most of the traffic traveled between the two sides of the city, so it hadn't been cut in half.

"Most of our forces are helping in Snowpoint." Maylene had received a report, sitting further along her desk, that had described the situation to her. A League official had been acting Gym Leader until she returned and had closely cooperated with Veilstone's mayor to coordinate help. "I'll talk to Alma about if we can spare any more."

"With Cynthia back and the country in crisis, I doubt your request will be denied. No civvie government will be insane enough to deny us any request," Roark said.

Volkner sighed, burying his face in his hands. "That's not a good thing, Roark."

The rock type specialist scoffed. "Hey, if we want to make it through this without Indigo turning us into a puppet state, we need a strong, guiding hand—"

"Yeah, whatever man. Too tired to argue,"
he exhaled, waving a hand in irritation.

The bickering continued, even with the older leaders trying to cut in, because when Volkner was 'too tired to argue', it really meant he thought you were full of shit. To Maylene, it was like being back at the start of the year, where the younger Gym Leaders, her included, had opposed Cynthia's endless pushback of democratic norms save for Roark. She still was of the same opinion, even now. Even after having gone through hell and back with the Champion.

But now wasn't the time to fight. She and her colleagues had to come together.

"Let's stick to the—"

"You always do this, Roark. Sometimes I wonder if you've ever had a single independent thought—"

She tried again. "Can we please stay on topic—"

"I'm just looking at the situation objectively. No need to bring emotions into it," Roark said.

"No need? How can I not bring emotion into it?!" Volkner's fist slammed his table, and his camera shook. "Over ten thousand people are fucking dead and all you can think about is poli—"

"CAN WE FOCUS ON WHAT'S IMPORTANT?!" Maylene screamed as loud as she could. "Please."

Finally
, they were looking at her. All looking at her. Maylene realized she'd had wisps of aura circling around her skin. For a few seconds, they were all stunned. She'd never— never really taken the initiative like this before today, hadn't she? Maylene hadn't been quiet by any means, as proven by her opposition to Cynthia, but among her fellow Gym Leaders, she'd always been one to follow the path of least resistance instead of swimming against the current.

"Sorry for yelling, uh, we were talking about me being able to send more people to help you all. I'll also be able to help personally when my Pokemon are found in Coronet, so…"

"You're right," Volkner sighed. "Look, Roark, sorry for— let's just move on, yeah? It's a tense day, we're not thinking straight."

Volkner's fellow Gym Leader agreed, and the meeting could finally continue. Once Maylene finally put hard numbers on the number of personnel she could send, the first part of the virtual meeting could finally be adjourned.

"I am now ending the recording," Fantina droned.

"Now, kids, go on and ask Maylene what you wanted," Wake said.

"Don't act like you all aren't curious." Gardenia leaned closer to her webcam and adjusted it slightly. "Is what happened on top of Mount Coronet ever going to reach our ears or not?"

When Maylene took a little too long to answer, Candice added, "we're just worried about you, Maymay. Don't feel pressured to answer. Either we get clearance, or we don't. Personally, I'd rather not."

Maylene's fingers gripped the side of her table. She'd seen so many deaths, so much suffering, so much horror. "I'd— rather not. Sorry."

Knowing nods and gentle affirmations were her answer.

A few more minutes passed of the Gym Leaders just talking about their everyday lives. Wake took the charge, trying to cheer everyone up with funny stories about his husband, but they also heard about how Gardenia wanted to get a plant species native to Almia that Maylene forgot the name of imported for her garden. Volkner's new hobby he would no doubt drop in a week was reading poems, courtesy of Jasmine, but he also spoke about how their relationship would be at an end soon. Fantina didn't have anything new to bring, but she spoke a little about how she thought Kalos showcases would do well in Hearthome to spice things up a little…

But they were out of time. They needed to get back to work.

As soon as the call ended, Maylene fullscreened her emails. Before she could get started on answering them all, she'd need to fill out some paperwork to authorize sending so many first responders away from the city, and she also needed to contact the League to see if they had any Kadabra available to Teleport them… but at least she wouldn't have to go through the chain of command and wait hours like what was protocol.

She was tempted to put a news channel in the top right corner of her monitor, but it'd be better if she wasn't distracted. Before she could get anything done, her phone rang, vibrating against her desk. Her heart jumped, and she was almost scared of looking at who it was. She let it ring a little until she muttered stupid under her breath and grabbed it.

The disappointment when she read 'Nia' on the screen was palpable.

She picked up with a heavy breath. "Nia? What is it?" Obviously she'd wanted to tell her something in private, and not with all of their friends and colleagues there. Sinnoh's Gym Leaders were tighter-knit than basically every country, but they still hid things from each other.

"Maymay, um, sorry to call you again, this'll be quick. I just wanted to ask how you were doing, because you… well, there's no way you would be okay after all of what you went through, but if you ever need to talk to me, I'm here, okay? And so is Candice."

Maylene smiled. "Thanks, Nia."

"And if you need to vent about Grace Pastel, too," she added. "I know you were with her as her bodyguard—"

"Wh— no, I'm—" Maylene stopped, and then facepalmed. "Right, you don't know. We're— we're good now."

"Oh. What?"

"Yeah, we're… well, we went through a lot together and I saw a side of her I thought didn't exist, and she's pretty great. So yeah, we're friends."

"That's… it feels a little fast."

"We spent over a week together, climbing the mountain on our own. To you, it feels like a day, but to me it was a while. We've been through a lot," Maylene explained.

"I trust you. Just don't get hurt… wait, hold on." Maylene heard something on the other end of a line, like the clicking of a mouse. "Oh, shit. Oh, shit, what the… no, this can't be true."

"Nia?! What's going on?!"

"It's…"

Craig Goodwill was dead.



May 6th 20XX, 12:34AM (Shinwa Time/SWT) - Lily of the Valley Island - Cynthia Collins

Cynthia's office was quiet. Sitting atop one of the spires of the League Headquarters, the Champion was running on caffeine, Togekiss' happiness, and the fear of falling asleep. It was only a matter of time until she'd have to confront the reality that she would have to sleep, eventually, but for now, she'd thrown herself into work. Light filtered through stained glass windows depicting Arceus crafting the world with his thousand arms.

Cynthia drummed her fingers against the side of her arm with Togekiss sitting exhausted at her side. "Who leaked it?"

"Some idealistic high-ranking League Trainer called Milan Sherbert, a Corporal," Joachim Rouzet— the director of the League Secret service— answered her. He was a boring-looking man, but behind those innocent eyes was someone who had ordered countless terrible things in her name. "We've stripped him of his rank and shoved him in a cell for the time being." He bounced his leg against the floor, which was unusual for him. "He sent a picture of the classified document to SGNC, and from there every single news channel picked it up. It's too big to be contained, even if we use every Porygon at our disposal and that Rotom we got from Ernest Compton."

This day couldn't get any worse, could it? A country on fire was already bad enough, but now that people knew Craig was dead— something she'd learned as soon as Flint and Aaron spoke to her, it was as if someone had poured oil on the flames. Craig Goodwill had been a symbol of excellence and hard work. He was the person trainers in Sinnoh looked up to the most. Him being gone did not bode well.

"Keep him in that cell for now," she sighed.

Cynthia had planned to reveal Craig's death today, anyway. There was no way she would have been able to hide the fact that he was just missing after having participated in the operation inside Mount Coronet. There was, however, a big difference between a controlled reveal where she could frame his death and build the narrative however she wanted, and the utter pandemonium that had just erupted among the trainer community.

"What's the reaction looking like?" Cynthia asked, running a hand over Togekiss' fur.

"Civilians and trainers alike are mourning. Some still don't believe it's real, but the majority do," Joachim said, pacing around the room. "There are some conspiracists saying that his death was planned to secure your position as Champion because you thought he was a threat, but it's not anything serious. Just a few loud mouths. What you're looking at will mostly be a nation in shock, if you can even be more in shock than they already are."

"You seem nervous."

The unassuming man gave her an anxious smile. "He was my daughter's idol. She had his merch. She kept saying he was going to win the Conference this year for sure. I'm just… imagining her reaction, right now. My apologies, I'll focus. Do you want me to call the Elite Four over?"

Flint and Aaron were in the hospital for severe frostbite, so what he meant was Bertha and Lucian. Unfortunately, Lucian was coordinating the operation to scour Coronet of any remaining grunts, missing League and ACE Trainers, or their Pokemon. He also had to handle rebuilding Regice's outpost and ridding themselves of the permafrost there, so he had his hands full. Bertha… she would call Bertha over. She'd been the one keeping the League stable and running in the background while Cynthia had focused on things needing her attention right now.

"Bertha," she agreed. Before he could walk out her room and get started on descending the endless flight of stairs, she stopped him. "Stay vigilant. Make sure we aren't caught off-guard like that again."

"Yes ma'am."

As soon as the door closed, she collapsed on her desk, hands sprawling all over the table. Togekiss chirped worryingly at her side. "I'm doing alright. I feel exhaustion creeping up on me." Staying like this would only have her risk slipping into unconsciousness. Tonight. Tonight, she would have Lucian's Alakazam knock her out with Hypnosis.

The Champion scrounged through her messy desk. Countless papers that she'd gone through in the last few hours were strewn without much order to them, but what she was looking for was a small compact mirror buried beneath an executive order suspending regulations that might hinder the speed and efficiency of rescue efforts for fourteen days. Vernon had been quite quick to relay it to the rest of the civilian government. The legalese needed to bypass the courts had been tough, but it wasn't like they were going to try to strike it down anyway.

Arceus, she needed to stop this. How much more until she could finally start building back upon her efforts to bring freedom and political power to her people?

She just needed to see them through this. Afterward, she would end her clampdown on civil liberties.

Her face looked, well, normal. Her tiredness had been hidden beneath layers and layers of makeup for her speech at two in the afternoon, but even then, there was something about her face that was less… solid. Like she'd lost her confidence. She tried to find what was missing for a while, making faces that Togekiss and she laughed at until Bertha knocked her door.

Moments of peace were always fleeting.

She yelled at her to come in.

The older woman slowly walked into the Champion's office with deliberate, well placed steps. "Making me climb stairs again, hm?" She silently sat opposite of Cynthia, adjusting her brown scarf to sit below her mouth. "Legendaries, Cynthia. What a shitshow this is."

Cynthia's eyes widened a smidge. Her mentor did not usually swear.

"Sinnoh has seen better days indeed," the Champion calmly said. "But I became the Champion for a reason. We all have a moment in time where we are truly tested. My test is simply more difficult than my predecessor's. Easier than Leo Florentius, I would say. At least I don't have a war to deal with."

And for how terrible the situation looked, Sinnoh was in a good position to handle it. She had worked hard to unite it, these past two decades. Other nations rarely had their government work lock in step like this, even during a crisis. One just had to look at Kanto-Johto during the Rocket War for proof.

"Don't sell yourself short," Bertha crowed. "But you're correct. Craig's death was not ideal in the first place, given that his presence would have been a soothing one in this situation, but it leaking this way? It's a catastrophe."

"Should I move my speech up?" Cynthia asked. Oh, it wouldn't actually be live. It would have a thirty-second delay, just in case she slipped up somewhere, and then the feed would be altered via Porygon to quickly cut it short. Hopefully she wouldn't need it.

"Perhaps." She tapped a finger on the table twice. "Do it and it feels panicky, don't do it and it feels out of touch. It's a lose-lose situation." Bertha's hand moves to cover Cynthia's, a surprisingly warm gesture for the usually cold woman. "If you need to take a break, my dear, I can handle more of your duties. While you get back on your feet. It'd be best if you don't burn out."

Bertha already knew of Cynthia's experience through the Distortion World, and what she'd seen there. The full, non-redacted information, after all, had been for Elite-Four-Eyes-Only, including a few exceptions like Joachim or trusted military Commanders. The Champion shuddered at the sudden reminder, but shook her head.

"I set out to do this a long time ago. I have to," she declared, her tone resolute. "I'll move up my speech thirty minutes. It'd be too late to hold it at one."

"Very well," the ground type specialist said. "I'll let it be known. And Cynthia— the other Champions want answers. Don't keep them waiting."

Other than Lance, who she had established a direct line of communication to, the other Champions would have to go to official channels, which were slow and cumbersome things.

"I won't. I need to finish this speech first."

It would be her first public appearance since Coronet, and it would set the narrative for the entire crisis. Once that was done, she would contact the other Champions. Lance first, then Wallace, and then the others to tell them that there had indeed been Legendary involvement, but that the situation was under control.

Thirty million people counted on her. She had better not mess it up.



May 6th 20XX, 1:28PM (Shinwa Time/SWT) - Lily of the Valley Island - Grace Pastel

He was dead.

Fuck.

The news had swept through the region like a firestorm, and it was Emilia who'd told us first, along with 'at this point, too much is happening at once'. She was right, even if she'd been a little tone deaf about it (to her credit, she hadn't known Craig and had never been much interested in battling). Every hour, it felt like a once-in-a-lifetime event was happening and plastered on the news, and people just didn't know what to talk about.

It was only Cecilia and I, who were sitting in the room afforded to us by the League. It was a fancy hotel room reminding me of the one she'd stayed at in Eterna, given to us for our trouble, as if expensive gifts would matter at all to heal the scab that our experience had formed. Louis, Emi and Pauline had wanted to watch the speech all together, but I couldn't help but feel this distance. Like the same one I'd felt after Veilstone, where we'd first learned we'd been chosen by the Lakes, but an even wider gulf. Mira had instantly gone to Teleport to see if she could find Lauren, but there was no luck yet. We'd even sent her multiple messages, but it had been left on read. As of now, she was missing.

It'll be difficult, but you'll adapt. I believe in you, Grace!

Thanks, Mesprit, I thought back.

If you're really thankful, you'll do more than sit around all day.

Normally, this would have provoked an angry response, but trying to teach the concept of mourning to Mesprit was a lost cause, so I just closed my eyes and sighed as the Guardian sent me the mental equivalent of themselves blowing a raspberry at me.

I was leaning against Cece's shoulder, sitting on a fluffy bed that was entirely too big, even for two people. We were sitting at its edge, facing the television. On it was an empty lectern on a podium, on which Cynthia would set foot any minute now. Behind it was Sinnoh's flag, a red circle surrounded by four white curved lines forming a cross-like pattern, reminiscent of Arceus' arch, and the League flag with its large stylized Pokeball on the same dark blue background. Mimi had been returned to me and was wrapped tightly around my wrist.

Cecilia's cold fingers interlaced with mine to stop them from shaking. Lauren must have been crushed at the news.

I'd known Craig. Not that well, but I'd known him, and the thought that he was just gone couldn't… fit in my head. Like, as far as I remembered, he'd always been there. He was more like a constellation in the sky, permanently etched in the firmament than an actual living, breathing person to me, but now he was gone forever. He had sacrificed himself to beat Regice to allow us to keep ascending Mount Coronet.

He'd saved the world just as much as everyone else. My breath trembled.

"How close were you?" Cecilia asked.

She truly didn't know. Well, she knew I'd seen him a few times and that he'd gotten me my sponsorship, but she didn't actually know what I thought of him, because, well, I'd never talked about him to her beyond the fight I'd witnessed between him and Jasmine—

Shit, Jasmine. I needed to message her, there was just so much going on. Melody, too.

Back to Cecilia's question, there was that, and cool fights Craig had been in that we sometimes nerded over.

"He was… we weren't close. I think he saw me as his sister's friend, so he was nice to me," I slowly said. "To me, he's— he was—" I didn't know what he'd been. Not a mentor, not a friend, but someone I looked up to? "Do you remember when we met him for the first time, near Snowpoint? With Savika?"

Cecilia smiled, fondly remembering the moment. "I do. He… he felt like someone who was larger than life, even when he'd been wounded."

"At some point, we were alone, the two of us, and," I shut my eyes tightly, desperate to cling to the memories of him, "I don't remember how the conversation started, but he spoke to me about how he struggled early in his career and stuff, even with a Bagon as his starter. I think he was just trying to make me feel better because we'd just made it out of Coronet as first years. To like, make me realize the scale of what we'd done. How competent we'd needed to be to survive."

Damn it, the tears were coming, now. Not many, but just, remembering this was tough, because it was important. Cecilia's finger gently wiped a tear from my cheek.

"Sorry, you don't need to—"

I interrupted her. "It's fine. I want to talk about it, and Cynthia's late anyway." The clock had struck 1:30, yet she still wasn't there. "He spoke to me about having reached the summit, but he was so hungry, still. For something more. I could see it in his eyes. He wanted to touch the skies."

The entire reason I'd had this goal, the thing that had driven me, pushed me to become this good at battling. To keep training day in and day out.

It was all because I'd taken his dream for myself.

My girlfriend wrapped me in a tight hug, and I sniffled against her just as Cynthia walked onto the podium with her Togekiss. The last time I'd seen her, she had looked haggard and on her last legs, but it was as if she'd become a completely different person. It wasn't just about covering up her tiredness, but also the way she carried herself. She stood tall, her shoulders wide and with a somber, yet leading expression on her face. She adjusted the microphone to bring it closer to her mouth, then cleared her throat.

"Citizens of Sinnoh. Yesterday, on the 5th of May, countless bombs and Pokemon using Self-Destruct planted by Team Galactic wrecked havoc across our nation. This day is one that will live in infamy, and I join you in mourning our losses. Never since the Great War has Sinnoh suffered such an attack on its own soil, and for that, I must apologize. I failed to serve my duty as Champion and protect you before it was too late."

She allowed a beat to pass, though her eyes glanced away from the camera for a second. Something more astute people would catch and try to analyze.

"However," she began. "Thanks to Operation Rise, I am here to deliver what I hope to be the start of an upswing for our country. Team Galactic, as an organization, is over. Their leaders are dead or in prison, and as we speak, we are imprisoning the few grunts remaining holed up in Mount Coronet." Cynthia took another breath. "I've kept you in the dark regarding Team Galactic's true goals, but today, I can reveal them now that it is safe to do so."

"These terrorists were planning to awaken a Legendary to destroy our nation, and perhaps even the world."
My heart sank. She really was giving them a lot, even if she was underplaying it. "That rift you saw at Mount Coronet's summit yesterday was the result of their nefarious plans, but thanks to the League's collective efforts, the rift was closed before the aforementioned Legendary could cause too much damage. It will not open up again."

I can't believe Giratina is going to be blamed again. Poor thing, Mesprit whined.

"But," another pause, "we also lost many good people to stop Team Galactic. Many League and ACE Trainers died or were wounded. As it stands, four-hundred and six League Trainers and twenty-three ACEs died climbing Mount Coronet. More died fighting Galactic all over the nation. That first number includes Craig Goodwill."

She went on to list his accolades as a trainer everyone should aspire to be, from his childhood, to the good he did as an adult. He'd led a momentous life, and she wanted to go over everything. Cecilia did note that she felt a little sad that his death would overshadow all others.

I didn't think that was what he would have wanted, either, but there was no other way. This is how the world worked, for better or for worse.

"Craig Goodwill sacrificed himself for the good of the nation and the world, and it isn't an exaggeration to say that without him here, we would have failed to stop Team Galactic. My heart goes to his family, to his friends, and the League will hold a special ceremony to celebrate his life at some point in the near future. He is what we should all aspire to be."

"Now, in terms of returning to normalcy, the government will ensure that we keep up good communication in the coming days. As it stands, however, the Conference will be delayed, meaning that Renewal Day on the first of June will not be held on the island as usual. Each Gym will most likely have a different reopening date…"




May 6th 20XX, 12:46AM (Unovan Time/UT) - Mount Vertress/Unovan League - Mark Obel

Deep within the heart of the Unovan League's fortified headquarters, tucked away behind layers of reinforced walls and guarded checkpoints, Mark Obel watched the end of Cynthia's speech with his Elite Four. The room itself was dominated by a large oval command table crafted from gleaming, brushed steel. At its center was a stylized braviary in a hunting position, Unova's national symbol. The table was lined with many cushioned office chairs that had been filled with League officials just a few hours prior. Embedded seamlessly into its surface were a myriad of touch-screen displays, each capable of projecting intricate maps, live feeds from ongoing operations, and real-time data streams from across the region, though these were off for now. A massive screen on which Cynthia spoke was fixed against the central wall.

This was the situation room. Where Mark and many League officials sometimes spent their entire days, should a situation warrant it. Wild Pokemon attacks (which were mostly done on Unova's vast farmland), the status of their troops in Ransei, monitoring the border with the Orrean wilds, where raiders often crossed into Unova to pillage, sneaking in with refugees who had braved the desert, or where Iris or Alder had been seen last. They had to track them. They were, after all, roaming weapons of mass destruction with no loyalty to the League.

They had all worked overtime out of fear that the rift above Mount Coronet would spell doom for the world. Even in Unova, an ocean away, panic had spread, as it always did when a Legendary was involved. Mark ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed.

"Worried, are you?" Grimsley poked with his typical, fiendish grin. The dark type master wore one of his robes again, this one white and draping so long it covered even his feet, with a long, darkened scarf around his neck that rolled down to his hip. He was sitting on the table with his legs crossed, content to tease his own superior. "About your sister, I mean."

"She was seen at the League. She's thankfully alive," Mark said. Rarely did he raise his tone, even when Grimsley got on his nerves. "But… something happened to her. She was clearly hurt."

At least he would have an opportunity to see her soon, even if his father would disapprove.

Grimsley barked out a laugh, sounding more like a Mightyena than a man. "Not like she'll tell you about it! 'Oh, brother, why did you stab me in the back to save the man who abused us?'" He slapped his knee.

So he was going to try to be humorous today, then. Mark would not underestimate him regardless. Shauntal and Caitlyn had both been rich with the resources of their powerful families behind them to help them get started in their journey, much like Mark had; Marshal had been taken under Alder's wing and been brought up that way, but Grimsley? He had come from nothing, yet had become one of the most powerful men in the country regardless. Mark knew that he liked to appear weak and foolish when he had the sharpest wits of the five. He treated his entire life like a battle.

"Give it a rest," Marshal said, his voice as deep as usual. The fighting type specialist sat in a chair too small to contain not only his towering height, but his physique. He was nearly spilling out of it. "I've had enough of your quips for the entire day."

Mark was careful to keep a mental note of that outburst, even if Mark agreed with him for once. Marshal had always been a maverick due to Alder having been his mentor in his youth. He and Mark still did not get along.

Grimsley clicked his tongue. "What, you don't like it when I joke about the world going up in flames? Bummer."

"I think we just don't like it when you open your mouth for anything not work related." Shauntal's voice was nearly a soft embrace to their ears. For once, she didn't have her head buried in her book, though she was writing down notes on what Cynthia was saying for her own uses. She preferred paper to digital, even for work. Her clothes were a drab of dark and purple coiling tightly against her. "Caitlyn agrees. Caitlyn!"

The last and youngest member of the Unovan Elite Four pushed her head off the table, though her eyes were still closed. Her golden hair was so long it was a blanket onto itself. "Let's keep things professional." Caitlyn smiled, looking at Mark.

Not really looking, but something akin to it. The truth was, she just wanted them to be less loud. It wasn't as if sleeping prevented her from absorbing information anyway, with how her Musharna had changed her. The psychic never left her side. Even now, it hung high above her, close to the ceiling.

"Thanks. Now that the speech is done." Mark looked at each and everyone of them individually. "We know some of it is a lie, and we know from the way she spoke and behaved herself near the tail-end there that what happened to her scarred her in some kind of way. The question is, how much of this was the truth."

"Ghost TE readings were off the charts in Sinnoh during the rift's opening. It seems clear to me that this is Dusk business," Shauntal said. "Would Team Galactic want to use Distortion for their own, twisted desires? I don't know."

"She'll call back and explain in further details," Marshal said. "We need a reset of relations anyway after that ordeal with your father. Strongarming them into releasing that criminal…" he sneered at Mark.

"Sinnoh's a bit of a backwater, but letting it fall into Lance's clutches was not ideal," Caitlyn hummed. She would know. She had grown up there after all. "A little bird told me that a diplomatic delegation is being sent this summer, where an alliance and closer cooperation will be the talk of the day."

And there was also the fact that a Johtoan Gym Leader was close to Volkner.

"I had no choice," Mark said. "The Conglomerate was getting antsy at one of theirs being captured and imprisoned."

And to think that just a few years ago, Unova-Sinnoh relations had been at their highest. What an unmitigated disaster. Galar-Unovan relations were still tightly-knit, but other than that… they were a nation on the road to further isolation. A far cry from how it used to be after the war, where they'd risen as the world's foremost power possessing a hand in every pie.

Their meeting was adjourned a few minutes after Cynthia's speech. The Elite Four still had a Conference to plan and a population to calm. Compared to the boisterous Alder, Mark was not a public Champion. In fact, he was certain that his Elite Four, having predated him, had a better connection to the people than he did.

But he had a job to do.

It was time to meet with the suits and tell them about all of this, and then he would need to call his father directly. The Opelucid Group, X Tech, Avalon, Crescent Global and the Obel Energy Company all had representatives posted at Vertress at all times. Marshal huffed when he walked past Mark, side-eyeing him in the process.

He could hate Mark all he wanted. He knew how difficult it was to keep the seat of Champion, how precarious the position was to keep. Mark too, knew that there was a problem with the amount of power these companies had amassed, but they were sorely needed to support the Unovan economy. Without them, it would all collapse. He wanted the states to gain its authority back, but change was best made through incremental steps.

And each of them could have the nation tumble toward oblivion. His plan was measured in decades.

Now wasn't the time to rock the boat, especially with the drummings of the Plasma Organization growing louder and louder, with calls among the Conglomerate to ban the party outright for its very large and vocal extremist wing. Ghetsis was screaming about the 'sanctity of democracy' he suddenly cared about and how he would leave Parliament if that came to pass to join Plasma as a 'humble follower'.

Mark closed the door behind him, his hands hovering over his seven Pokeballs.

Bad times were on the horizon. He could feel it in his gut.

A/N: That's it. That's the end of the arc.

Feels a little surreal being here, but I am. Galactic's over, and now it's on to the end of the year and the recovery process. I'll be taking a two week break after this because I've been dealing with some wrist pain, and I also need to talk about some scheduling changes. Before this arc began, I used to upload a chapter a day (though I sometimes missed the mark). I have come to realize that I think my writing has gotten a lot better now that I have more time to work on chapters, so I'll compromise. When I'm back from my break, I will be uploading two chapters a week, one on Wednesday, and one on Sunday. If it's a big, important chapter, or multiple in a row, I'll go down to one a week (Sundays). Thank you all for understanding, I hope you don't mind too much.

Back to the story, there is still a lot to cover about the fallout that I couldn't go into this chapter. Louis, Emilia and Pauline, for one, will get more attention soon, as will Lauren. And hey, you also got your first look at Mark Obel and the Unovan Elite Four. There's still a lot of Sinnoh to cover beyond just the Conference, believe it or not, so Unova will have to wait. As always, thank you for reading. I'll see you all on July 3rd.


Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Zeta, Rain, Jason H, Mads
 
Last edited:
Chapter 318
CHAPTER 318

Another day had passed since Craig's death; two since we'd been back from the Distortion World, and though everything was over, the restlessness constantly rolling through me had not abated even a little. The inability to sleep until I collapsed from exhaustion hampered me the most, which was partly why my head was currently resting against my palm. I barely awake at noon, with a few papers stapled together garnering my attention as one of the means to keep me conscious. Rain pattered against the hotel room's window, with thunder occasionally booming after a flash of light that would scare Mimi senseless and send them retreating into my shirt. The weather forecast had said it'd be raining all day. Again, I glanced toward—

"You keep looking behind you," Cece said, her voice as quiet as a whisper. We'd spent the night together, away from the League's buzzing activity that had only increased after the news of Craig's death. Her hand reached toward mine and stopped my finger from tapping against the table. Her digits were cold, but they still made mine tingle with joy and warmth at the contact. "Nothing is going to lunge at you."

The prickling sensation on the back of my neck was the most annoying. It wasn't as hindering as the lack of sleep, but it was an itch I couldn't scratch, crawling right beneath my skin and taunting me.

I sighed, sprawling over the table. "You know I'm not the best with numbers. I guess it's tough keeping focused with so much stuff going on."

"No half-truths with me," she softly chided.

I gazed upon her white, empty eyes— empty, but not vapid. There was still plenty of emotion in her stare. It was observing the depths of me, continuously digging deeper and deeper and leaving no inch of me unturned until I couldn't help but shy away. The bags forming under her eyes mirrored mine. Cece had compelled me to finally do my taxes this morning and was helping me figure out what number went where, along with deductions for being a trainer and the like. The stitches on her face would take a few days to get used to, as would the scars that would stick, but she had been there for me after burns had covered my left half, and I would do the same for her.

She didn't seem to care anyhow.

"Well." I cleared my throat and rose back up, straightening my back, though I did not allow myself to lean against the softness of my chair. "You know, don't you?"

Cecilia's eyes softened a smidge, and her head tilted to the side so far I wondered if that hurt her neck. "I have an idea." Her thumb traced the ridges of my knuckles, and I felt a little out of breath. At least this part of me was still normal. "Do you not want to see Aliyah anymore?"

'I could ask you the same thing' was what I'd wanted to answer. She hadn't seen her therapist again either, nor made any plans to. I searched for an answer, grinding my teeth together. Were my palms sweating? My eyes darted anywhere other than in her direction, suddenly finding our luxurious hotel room to be the most interesting thing in the world.

"Maybe. I don't know, I don't think there's anyone in the world that could understand what I went through anymore. Other than you and the others we were with."

Cecilia's lips twitched nervously as thunder rang out in the sky. "You'd think that Sinnoh would have modernized their tax forms," she said after a pause. "Doing everything digitally would save a lot of time."

"Um, right." She'd noticed my reticence to talk about the Distortion World and switched the topic, thank the Legendaries. "So, deductions…"

It took another hour for us to finish everything and double check the forms. We left the hotel room when we were done, traveling through the empty halls, down the elevator and into the nearly-vacated lobby with Meltan back around my neck in the form of a necklace. Now that we were done with Galactic, it was about time I allowed the steel type to reveal themselves— not today, but soon. I doubted many would care other than a passing glance and a piqued interest like my father—

Damn it.

This place would only fill up once the Conference began, which we didn't have a date for yet. With an umbrella in hand, my girlfriend kept me close enough to keep both of us dry. The walk to the nearest mailbox had us travel through the wide, busy League streets, which were filled with sleek, modern trams that put Eterna City's to shame. They were the lifeblood of the League's transportation, given that no cars were allowed here. LED screens dotted the sidewalks, displaying the weather, temperature and a map of the island. We were where the southern, residential and commercial district crossed with the central, governmental one, which meant that there were a mix of residential and governmental buildings around us. In a way, the Lily of the Valley island was not just the seat of Sinnoh's power, but another city unto itself.

Cece attracted plenty of stares, which she either shrank away from or returned with her own piercing glare that carried with it the weight of her own death. Very few people would be able to challenge her in that regard, including myself. I still had no idea what exactly made her decide to glare or avert her gaze. She'd taken much more to wearing dark or faded colors now. Today, for example, she had just hastily thrown on a black t-shirt and high-waisted skirt that revealed the bite marks on her leg.

Once we finished dropping off my forms, we were presented with a choice. There were two hours left before I was cleared to finally get Buddy back from the center. Despite my assurances that he would be able to heal properly in water, the nurses had preferred taking no risks and had kept him in the Center to monitor his recovery, just in case the Dusk had affected him for the long term. I knew they'd been correct, I just…

Really, really wanted to see him.

Fortunately, it looked like we weren't going to have to worry about that. The rest of my team were recovering well, as was Cece's, but it would be days to weeks before we saw any of them again. According to the Joys, Angel was even going to recover his eye, the loss of which was a prospect that had haunted me since he'd fought Saturn. It would take weeks for it to actually get back to his normal vision, but at least it would.

Honestly, right now I wanted nothing more but to get on Princess and fly off. I didn't want to escape, or anything. Running away into the wilds like I assumed Lauren had wasn't something even in consideration. Being in the sky, the wind thundering in my ear would probably help clear my head, and the League was a little suffocating, at the moment. I still hadn't gotten used to how everything sounded with my hearing aid. Being deaf in one ear was annoying. It was always the little things, like having to get used to turning my head to the left to hear what people were saying, or the constant, yet subtle ringing that had been diagnosed as tinnitus pestering me constantly.

Anyway.

We had two hours to kill, and I didn't particularly feel like staying holed up in an empty hotel.

"What do you say we swing by a café or something?" My tone wasn't as confident as I'd wanted it to be. I stuttered and messed up the delivery big time, but the way I'd pulled on her wrist let the desperation I felt bleed through. The thought that maybe if we tried, we'd be normal again. "Hop on a tram and go to the first place we see?"

She blinked, too slow to be anything but a conscious effort. "Are you sure?"

Countless people filed through the streets around us; Mimi's cold steel pressed against my chest; the knocking of the rain against our umbrella— but I only had eyes for us. I wanted this to work.

"Yeah. Everyone else is acting like… they're moving on, right? I wanna try. Just the two of us, before we go see the others again."

Cecilia freed her hand from mine and brought it up to the side of my face. Her cold thumb caressed my cheek and the corner of my lip. "Ignoring the past will not do you any good, my love." Something about her tone there showed that she was talking as much to herself as to me. For a moment, I thought she'd refuse. "But it would bring back fond memories. Like our time in Eterna, where you showed me what it felt like to be free."

"Right. Right."

"Even unintentionally, you make things rhyme, it seems," Cecilia said with a slight quirk in her lips.

Seeing her smile…

Seeing her smile was like getting a glimpse of the sun in this horrible weather, peeking behind the clouds.



The place we'd found was somewhat cozy— or as cozy as a place built to attract tourists like a Combee hive would an Ursaring could be. It was from a chain I'd rarely seen outside of Jubilife called Standing Ovation. A weird name for a café place, but it played a lot with the musical side of things. There was a nature-theme going on, with greenery and vines spread throughout the establishments. A group of Chatot were perched above the bar area, singing in low baritone. There was a lounge in a different room, but seeing as this wasn't the busiest season and the League was still on lockdown, only the Chatot were playing music for now. Honestly, it was surprising this place was even open at all, but maybe the owners wanted to pretend life went on. It was actually fascinating, how some of the group of ten Chatot could mimic the sound of instruments with just their voice, but after seeing Aubri's perfectly replicate her voice, it wasn't that surprising.

Cece's eyes were focused on our table entirely. She didn't dare to glance in any other direction, as if attracting attention would be her doom. I sipped on some kind of cold, mint-flavored drink I'd picked at random while she calmly gulped down her tea. We'd ordered some onion rings as snacks, but neither of us had touched them. The conversation had been a little bland. We'd mostly listened to the music and comforted each other with only our company. It was when my phone vibrated, that Cece snapped back to reality. Her eyes instantly grew alert as I grabbed my Poketch and scrolled through.

"Sorry," I said, knowing that it was bothering her. "It's just— yeah, it's Maylene, hold on."

She was texting me about how they'd nearly found her entire team. The only one missing was Machamp, now. I had fond memories of the fighting type playing charades with us back at the lake after the dinner Cecilia had prepared. I replied with a short answer and placed my phone back in my pocket. We hadn't really texted much, honestly. Whenever I did to check up on her, she'd read the message but take so long to answer I just gave up and put my phone back on sleep. Being left on read didn't really bother me, given I knew she was busy with Gym stuff.

"Hey, Maylene's only missing her Machamp, now." I stirred the mint leaves in the drink with my straw and looked up at my girlfriend. "No news from Mira with Lauren, though. She's asking around. Maeve's back in Jubilife seeing her parents for the first time in a while. She hasn't said it, but I think it's pretty obvious she wants some time away from us. I think she's considering working for the League…"

Something about Cece's expression confused me. It was almost as if she was puzzled at her own emotions. A mix of frustration and relief, maybe. She was hard to read now that her body language had changed so much, and it was something I was going to get used to again.

"That's… good," Cece said. Her tone was meek, yet it could cut. "What about her father?" she asked, showing genuine concern.

"I think he's getting there tomorrow? I'm not sure what time." My breath shivered when Mimi crawled up to my head in public. They were intrigued by the fork and knives on our table. Luckily the place was empty enough that nobody noticed. They turned back inanimate when I softly clicked my tongue. A yawn gripped me before I could keep going. "Might need to swing by if it goes badly. You should come with me, we can ask for a Kadabra if they're not too busy."

"Hm?" she made a confused sound.

"We've been there for Chase, and he might need more help, honestly." Recalling our conversation in his hospital room had me hide a wince. He was in much more pain than he wanted to show. "But he has Emi, Pauline and Louis along with us. Maylene doesn't really have anyone, since the other Gym Leaders are super busy too. You'd be able to handle it better than me. My dad's great, and my mother was absent, but I had decent parents. Good parents," I quickly rectified. Just because we'd argued didn't mean I needed to knock them down a notch. "You'd be able to help her better than I could."

Her jaw clenched. "I feel like she would be disappointed, if I was there."

"What? Why—" My foot tapped hastily against the tiles below our table. "Hey, are you angry with me?"

"What?"

"Are you angry with me?" I asked again. "I've— I'm sorry if I've done something bad, but I genuinely don't understand—"

"No!" Cecilia yelled so loud the few heads in the café turned. A few of the Chatot glared at her for interrupting their song, and she instinctively glared back until one of the bird shrank down and cleared her throat behind her wing. "No… absolutely not. You're one of the only things keeping me going."

That wasn't ideal. Not when we'd done so much to break from our codependency, but I'd be lying if I didn't feel similar.

My body relaxed, and I sighed in relief. "Okay. Then why are you angry?"

"I'm not."

"Is it because—"

"Just let it go. Please." Rare were the times when I'd seen her beg this way. She never would have allowed herself to appear so weak before in public, and now I felt like I'd messed up. I did have an inkling of what she thought, but— "Sorry, it's stupid," she sighed.

"Hey, don't call your worries stupid. If it's enough to move you to tears, then—"

Cecilia brought a hand up to her cheek, and then looked at her wet fingers. "Oh. I'm crying."

My foot gently touched the side of hers, and she took another sip of her tea. She said it made her body feel warm, a reminder of the heat she'd lost after dying. When she finished, I suggested she order another one, and Cece followed suit immediately. It wasn't until she'd calmed down, that she opted to resume the conversation by changing the subject.

"Have you talked to anyone other than the group yet?" Cece asked.

I took a bite out of the now-cold onion rings. "Do my parents count?"

"They do, but I meant more like, Poketch people. It's important for you to not stay too quiet, even if I know you'd rather be doing anything else right now."

I twirled my straw in my drink. "Right, right." An exhale escaped me, half a sigh and half a yawn. "I was going to do it today. Melody, Ramon, Bobby first. You know, they must be getting hit by Craig's death hard." And I had completely ignored them. "I'm going to today, I promise."

A slight smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Good. And Jasmine?"

"Her, too. I've just been so overwhelmed, you know? Sometimes I wonder how you manage to keep going after everything." The words were said with admiration, because I genuinely had no idea. Even now, after everything, Cecilia worked day and night to prepare for her arrival in Unova, even if it was done slower now and with much more self-doubt.

I was glad I had her. Without her to push me, I'd most likely be rotting in my bed all day without purpose.

"I've been wondering, you know, if my story's over," I added.

Cecilia's mouth gaped, then closed, then opened again. "Of course not. You have— you have so much left to do."

"I guess?" My hand rubbed the side of my arm, and I shifted in my chair. "It makes you realize that in all those books you read, after the hero saves the world, his family, the princess or whatever, he has his entire life ahead of him after. But how will anything he does ever live up to that?" I morbidly chuckled, keeping my voice low so no one would hear. "You don't know, because it just ends. What else is left?"

"Your eighth badge?" she suggested.

A waiter passed by to give Cecilia her second cup of tea. Honestly, I kind of regretted not ordering one myself.

"Can I taste?" I asked.

Her white eyes narrowed into slits. "Are you trying to change the subject?"

"Maybe."

"Then don't—"

She'd caught herself, probably because when she had asked me to change the subject, I'd done so without a fuss. Cece slid her teacup across the wooden table, and I had a little sip. Tasty, but not as good as Aliyah's brews.

Arceus, I'd missed tea.

"I'm starting to wonder why I didn't order this instead of this sugary mint thing." I nudged my chin at my drink.

"You can have it, if you want," she said.

"Nah. I don't want to steal your warmth. Anyway, I— yeah, there's this feeling of emptiness within me. I fought, fought and fought, to climb and survive, but now that the mountain is behind me, I don't know what to do. I'm scared that nothing will ever feel fulfilling again, Cece— I— I can't even shake the feeling that I'm going to get jumped and we're in the Arceus damned League. The most secure place in the country!" I threw my hands up with a tired groan. When that same Chatot irritably squawked at me, I clicked my tongue. "Sorry."

Anger came easier now, too. I was the one disturbing the Chatot, but I was also angry they'd said anything. The well was deeper now than it had been in a long time. I hadn't been this prone to anger since Solaceon and Veilstone, but this one had another quality to it.

It was a tired one.

"Your life is worth more than a single story."

I bit my lip. "I wish I could see it that way. I don't think you can get it."

How could it be worth more than all of that? My adventures held so much weight within my soul. It was still shackled to them, burdened by the size of the journey. As it stood, it would dominate my entire life, and no one would ever be able to even hear of it. Not only was a story meant to be told, to be sung, to be experienced through as many eyes as possible, but I was a book that had run out of pages. The tale of my life had been gimped. Left to decay in the dark without purpose.

She tilted her head. "I can try."

"Maybe." My fingers drummed against the table.

"...later, then."

"Yeah. Later."

Even now that we had finished our drinks and onion rings and paid for them, there were still thirty minutes left until I could pick up Buddy, but I figured I'd be able to get him early anyway. When we passed by the bar, with the Chatot who had gotten mad at us both, Cecilia shot her a glare and the normal type flew off to perch on another vine. With shaking wings, she messed up her landing and nearly slid off the branch.

I snorted as soon as Chatot was too terrified to even respond, not because I took pleasure in her suffering for 'wronging' us (it really was our fault, and I'd outgrown that months ago), but because—

Because it was silly.

My girlfriend carried with her an air of death. The burden of doing better in the second chance she'd been given at life; an incredible depth of character that was as deep as an ocean, and seeing it used to spook a poor Pokemon just wanting to do her job was hilarious. Cece giggled too, two short laughs that didn't mean anything, yet felt so freeing all the same because it served as a reminder that we could still laugh. We hadn't forgotten how, of course we hadn't!

Unfortunately, the moment passed as quickly as it had come.

The weather back on the street had cleared a little bit, even if it was still raining. We walked together until we needed to go in different directions. She'd be going off to talk to Chase, and the hospital he'd been put in was specialized to care for humans, meaning it wasn't in the Pokemon Center. After that, she'd be spending some time with Louis and Pauline. Emilia had left this morning to go see her parents in Hearthome, but she'd be back by tonight. We had helped the League so much at this point that we had enough pull to get her through the lockdown. After getting Buddy back, I'd go back to the hotel and finally stop ignoring the world beyond this island.

Going to see my parents was a possibility, but…

Not yet.

So here we stood, facing each other near a street corner under a tram stop to hide from the rain. Our hands were linked, and I was staring right up at her. Legendaries, she'd grown tall this past year. To be honest, I still wished I'd been as tall, or at least close.

"I'll see you later?" I said.

"Hmhm."

I snaked my hand around her waist and hugged her, which she took as a sign to do the same. Her fingers on the small of my back were cold, yet they felt warm, even in the rain and the heavy winds. I stood on my tip toes and kissed her as I melted into her arms. My heart sang and danced in my chest, electricity coursed through my lips and by the Legendaries, I smiled against hers until we were done. I pushed hungrily until they parted again.

It had been a while. Too long.

Part of me wanted to ask her to stick around, but hogging Cece all to myself when our friends needed her too would be selfish. After she gave me the umbrella, I left her at the tram stop and made my way to the Pokemon Center.

She was gone.

I couldn't help but feel on edge, now. I allowed Mimi to pretend to be a thorny crown, which had people look at me like I was insane, but hearing the steel type chime in excitement at every new sight helped with the anxiety. Cass getting back in a few days would be best, though. Sleeping and traveling without a psychic around was going to give me a heart attack. My umbrella kept folding onto itself due to the heavy winds, but eventually I made it to the Pokemon Center.

This was the League's largest Pokemon Center, still built in typical Center fashion. The difference here was that it was nearly ten stories tall. You had to crane your neck to notice the warm, orange and inviting roof Centers were usually known for, and a skybridge led to the human part of the Center, though it wasn't equipped to deal with injuries like Chase's or Denzel's. Even the Pokemon Center was empty. There were obviously the usual League Trainers here and there, having brought their Pokemon to be healed after a bout of sparring.

During the Conference, this place would be filled to the brim. It was the best Pokemon Center in the country, capable of healing so much it might as well have been magic, hence Angel's eye recovering perfectly. I paced across the warm, beige floors toward one of the multiple counters. There was only one Nurse per counter right now, with the usual Audino, Blissey or Chansey, however, again, once the Conference began they would be staffed by many more. There weren't just the tournament fights to worry about, but the thousands of trainers that would fight here too.

It was somewhat of an exciting prospect, but there was something lacking.

As it turned out, Buddy had already been ready. An excited Chansey brought back his Pokeball in a tray, and for once, things felt right again when I clipped it to my belt. Deciding I'd release him back at the hotel, I speed walked back as fast as I could. Maybe if my motivation ever came back, I'd start running again with Honey. I was terribly out of shape; out of breath by the time I was back.

Back in the hotel room, I drew a bath in the bathroom (which was larger than my entire living room back in Jubilife), and I released Jellicent. The ghost looked the exact same as he'd been— maybe his eyes were just a tiny bit brighter and his blue tone a little healthier, but—

"Ack!"

Buddy rushed at me, wrapping his head around my body as he enveloped me in a big, squishy hug. I tried to return it, but my arms were stuck at my side and all I could do was try my best to stay upright. The impact sent me spinning out the bathroom, grinning from ear to ear as he slowly slid off of me. He couldn't cry with physical tears, but that particular whistling tone was the equivalent of a wail. There was so much behind it, too. To this day, the amount of words and emotions a Pokemon could put behind a single tone astonished me. Relief, happiness, regret at having nearly blown up at me in the Distortion World, worry at the rest of the family— all of that behind a single sound.

He'd never been one for tears, but here we were.

"I missed you too, Buddy," I softly spoke. Finally, I managed to put my hand on his cheek, which he allowed to sink inside of him. From my head, Meltan jumped on top of his head and jumped on it like a trampoline. "And Mimi did too, apparently!"

Jellicent sighed in relief, a long and low-pitched whistle. The first thing he asked me wasn't how the others were doing, or if everything was truly over. It was how was I doing?

That—

That made me feel like tearing up.

"I'm fine! I'm okay!" I reassured him. "And you don't have to worry about what happened to you in the Dusk, it's— you aren't used to it. Hopefully you'll never have to get used to it." A shiver ran through me, from my neck to the bottom of my spine. Staring at the bath I'd drawn, I continued, "I'm guessing you don't need water to feel better."

Buddy shook his head and said he was feeling as good as new. I stepped around him and started draining the water.

"Let's head to the living room, then. I gotta get some… work done. We can catch up there!"

I let myself drift across the hotel room and sagged down on the comfortable, cushioned chairs surrounding something between a coffee and dinner table. Buddy followed me close with Mimi riding on top of his head, and the prickling sensation in my neck lowered some. Even if they were just chatting, and Meltan was sending waves upon waves of pride for keeping me sane in the Distortion World, it felt good to have him at my back like usual. No doubt I'd be able to sleep easier now that he'd be standing guard.

I turned on the television, which had already been switched onto the SGNC channel. Mallory Ryan was speaking outside of her nighttime slot, too, with a co-host I didn't know the name of. In the corner of the screen was a live-counter of the casualties slowly ticking up, and she was waiting for one of their correspondents in Snowpoint to show the situation in the city in a few minutes. If I was working anyway… I'd need to contact her. Anything to stay active and not let my mind fray into thinking my life was over.

My teeth chattered.

I lowered the volume to a manageable level, which wasn't much given that my deaf ear was facing the TV, and I dragged my laptop out of my bag. It had been sitting at the foot of the table since I'd filed my taxes earlier today.

"It's been a while since I opened you…" I trailed off as I typed in my password. Princess' birthday.

It had been so long, in fact, that the last thing I'd had open was my battle against Byron. My gaze lingered on the paused frame for a second. It was near the end of the battle, right before Empoleon took down Princess.

Then I clicked the 'x' and closed it.

First came sending a text to Melody. My liaison had been blowing up my notifications ever since the bombs had gone off, but even more now that I was spotted back at the League. I scrolled through the message with a dismayed look when I realized she had needed to go through my father to figure out if I was alive or not. She'd done so much for me, and yet I'd kept ignoring her for so long.

While I scrolled through my messages, Buddy asked me if I'd go more in-depth into what happened in the Distortion World, and my response was a quiet, dismissive no.

"Sorry, I just can't," I muttered. "I'd rather not even think about it. I can tell you about the other stuff you missed, though."

Distortion's worm-like frame was still visible as clear as day every time I closed my eyes, its piercing wings gripping my heart so tight it was ready to explode. When I got lost thinking about its form, it would beat so fast I thought I was having a heart attack.

"How do you think I should answer?" I asked. "She'll be angry like me. Like my parents. Because she won't understand." Jellicent's eyes dimmed, and I sensed his confusion. "It was a fight. A big one. I kind of blew up at them for asking about what happened, and I feel like she'll want the same thing, 'cause at the end of the day they all care about me."

Buddy stayed silent for a few moments, and Mimi screeched out something akin to 'it is your right to yell at her if she doesn't understand'. Not words, but a feeling. The ghost finally agreed, but in a softer, gentler manner. He said that he was fine staying in the dark, even if it hurt him, so she should be fine with it too no matter the pain it brought. I'd missed this. Having him to advise me, whether I took it or not. I hummed, hands hovering over my keyboard, and I began to type.

Hey Mel.

Sorry about not responding to your messages. I promise you I wasn't available until yesterday, and I was overwhelmed with everything. To be honest, I still am. I know you'll want to know what happened, but I can't tell you, and I ask that you please do not ask me—


"Too professional, you think?" I asked.

Jellicent rolled his eyes, saying that this was the only proper way to write a text. Cece had kind of rubbed off on me there.

"Of course you would say that. Anyway…"

—My Pokemon are currently getting healed at the League, so I'll be stuck here for a few weeks. I could ask for a League Kadabra to Teleport me, but all of my friends are here at the moment, so unless it's urgent Poketch business, I'll stick around here for a bit.

It was a long-winded text, going into how I was doing physically, and then thanking her for taking such good care of me over the months. Without her with me, I'd never have been able to navigate the cutthroat business that was Poketch. Two minutes after I pressed 'send', she called me while I'd been texting Ramon my condolences for losing Craig. Arceus, of course she would do that. Talking over the phone had always been easier than texting for her.

After gathering my thoughts to figure out what to say, I answered, putting the phone to my deaf ear out of habit before remembering I couldn't hear out of there.

"Hello—"

"...lad you're okay! I was worried sick about you, I couldn't figure out where you were, and— and—" A small sob interrupted her, and I winced. "I'm so relieved to hear your voice."

"Listen, I'm— I'm sorry," I said.

"No, you have nothing to apologize for. I'm still reading your text, but I get the big picture." She sniffled. "The company's been up in arms since the news of Craig's death. God, twenty-six. He was so young," she sighed.

Right. That was young.

"I'm glad you made it out okay, Grace."

I frowned. "Made it out?"

"Whatever it is you were doing," she began, "whatever you don't want to tell me, I know you were involved in whatever was going on in Mount Coronet. Your ear," she knew about that already? "your Pokemon being so hurt, you being a League trainer and having participated in operations before, it lines up."

I relaxed a little, and my arms sagged against the table. "Right." She must have thought I'd only fought in Mount Coronet. That was fine. It was a lot, but it was fine. "I'm okay."

"The League is under lockdown right now, so I can't come see you. No one other than personnel, their families or the civilians that were there before the bombs can go in, they can only leave."

Luckily for us, me and my friends were an exception to that rule.

"I know, don't worry. You're okay, Mel. I can handle it."

"I hope you can," she said after a beat of silence. "I'm sorry if this is invasive, but this— this is part of my job, right? To watch you and promote you. You look like hell in your recent pictures."

"Yeah, I know I do. Sleeping problems."

"You sound… unwell, too."

How could I explain to her, that I was glad I was out of that hell ghosts called home, glad I would not have to fight Galactic and risk my team's lives again, but that as a result of that it felt like I'd been emptied and lost my purpose? I was a blade without a wielder, sitting and gathering dust in a forgotten corner. No one would ever hear of how sharp I'd once been.

Gah, everything was so conflicting.

We kept talking a while with the phone on speaker so Buddy and Mimi could hear, but eventually I had to hang up because I still had work to do and Melody was going to be called to an emergency meeting soon anyway for Poketch to decide how they would handle Craig's death. He was meant to retire, but not that abruptly. There were supposed to be parties, meetings and ceremonies in his honor, before he left. They were probably going to squeeze every penny out of his death they could. It felt dirty, how his sacrifice was being spun by both the state and the company he worked for to gain them the most.

Mel - I'll talk about you to the board and stabilize the situation a bit, but Remington knows not to mess with classified info, so you should be good for the time being.

That old man had worked with the League for decades to give his company a stranglehold on Sinnoh tech, so that wasn't surprising. Still, not having to deal with Poketch being nosy about what had happened would do wonders for my desire to keep working with them. My team still needed to eat.

Though the sponsor implied I'd keep training and battling. I wanted to? Or at least it felt like I should have. I was going to, maybe. There was just too much shit to worry about right now. My motivation had never been this low.

Jellicent clicked, telling me that was basically the best that conversation could have gone, and I agreed. "Now it's time to send her an email." I glared at the television.

My first time in Veilstone, Mallory had revealed herself as a follower of the Plasma Organization, a political party in Unova. Personally, I believed they had plenty of good points that shouldn't go ignored, but she was one of the extremists who believed trainers should be abolished. Who thought that the relationship was fundamentally unequal in all parts. In my opinion, that was anathema to the world itself. The foundation of everything was the relationship and cooperation between human and Pokemon, and life with the two as separate entities did not mesh well with me. I had grown a lot since Veilstone, as shown by my friendship with Maylene which seemed so impossible a month ago, but that core belief of mine still had not changed since we'd last spoken.

However, Mallory Ryan was a well-connected woman with links to Pokemon Rights organizations all over Sinnoh and Unova. It would be immature of me to just close that door before I'd even given it a chance. Sure, I didn't think I was going to suddenly become friends with her and her ilk, but I'd heard that Plasma had a moderate component, too, and learning about them would help…

Either way, she had told me to contact her if I ever changed my mind, and connections were everything, so I wasn't going to let this chance slip me by. I quickly sent a message to her business email asking if we could meet again any time soon in private. At the moment, she was a busy Combee, but something told me she'd make time for me anyway. And if she couldn't, well, we could always keep communicating at a distance for a little bit. I was mildly paranoid Poketch would figure out I was talking to her due to them having access to all of my accounts, so speaking face to face while I was supposedly still at the League would alleviate some of my worries. The board had explicitly told me not to get involved with Plasma even if they were fine with me being involved in Pokemon Rights, as my time in Pastoria had shown.

They made a mockery of my goals. Like giving a fake steering wheel to a child in a car.

Granted, I did not have the motivation to do even a fraction of what I wanted at the moment. I was kind of just hoping it would eventually come back. Fake it 'til you make it, as they said.

I stretched, cracking each finger in my hands with a satisfying pop. "Still not used to not having any bandages there."

Jellicent responded by saying hopefully I wouldn't get wounded so much now that everything was over and that I honestly deserved never to be hurt again.

"Hmhm. To be honest, I think I was lucky just to get off with only ear damage. It could have been a lot worse," I said. "Arceus, can you believe that typing messages can be so fucking exhausting?"

The ghost paused, and then said I could always take a break. I turned with a slight smile, my legs hanging off the side of the fluffy, cushioned chair, and rubbed the side of his cheek right next to his foamy mustache. His attention had been split between me, playing around with Mimi and the news.

"I can't. If I stop and sit down now, I don't know when I'll be able to get up again. Might be days—" A buzz from my phone vibrating against the table caught my attention. It was Maylene. "Hey, I guess she finally answered."

Maylene S. - Sry I was busy working. Thx for the kind words. Hopefully they find Machamp soon.

Then she started typing, stopped, and started again. The cycle continued for thirty seconds or so.

Maylene S. - How r you doing?

I answered by explaining that I was trying to be like her and stay active to keep my mind off things I would rather not think about.

"Hey, come closer for a sec." Jellicent approached until the cold air around him tickled my back, and I snapped a selfie of him and Mimi on his head. Somehow, the steel type had managed to get into a grand pose, swinging around a needle they liked to pretend was a sword. "Perfect. You look great."

Hmph! Mesprit harrumphed. I should be in that picture!

"Mesprit! You've been quiet today." When Jellicent's eyes flashed in surprised, I mouthed to him that I'd explain soon.

I'd rather not say something that randomly offends you in these harsh times, Grace, Mesprit complained. I could almost picture their pout. So alas, I await your recovery. Don't be too long, now!

That was… nice of them. After telling Jellicent that I was now alright with Mesprit talking to me and hanging out in my head, I sent the picture to Maylene.

You - I got this guy back, though! I missed him. It's easier now that I have him around. Not easy but easier.

Again, the same hesitation to reply.

Maylene S. - I think ur

Maylene S. - Sry pressed send on accident

Maylene S. - Im happy that things are going better. Id talk more but i have to go back to work and prepare the gym for my dad tmr. it has to be perfect or hell freak otu.

You - Alright. If things go bad Cece and I are always available to swing by. Might need to send a Kadabra though, they're running short here for anything that isn't essential and we don't have our Pokemon back yet.

Maylene S. - Thx. I rly rly appreciate it.

I considered sending another text warning her that Cece was still a little angry with her, but decided otherwise. Given the topic at hand— abusive dads— I doubted that Cecilia would let whatever feeling get in the way of helping a friend who was in the same, horrid circumstances she had lived through. I finished texting Ramon and Bobby, stretching until my extremities tingled. I considered Aubri, given that I could easily find her contact info, but we weren't close enough and she disliked me anyway.

Now, the last message of the afternoon before I'd go and join Cecilia and the others. Other than a few texts, the last time I'd had a serious conversation with Jasmine had been near Floaroma when I'd been traveling the region. She had sent a long-winded message after my loss to Byron that I had seen but forgotten to look at because of how the footage had enthralled me for days. Most of it were words of advice from things I had already noticed, along with telling me to keep my chin up and stand proud of my performance. 'Not many trainers on their first 8th badge battle would have been able to deal with that Bronzong as well as you had,' she had said.

To be honest, the loss felt kind of small now, and the way I'd reacted to it childish. The lessons imparted to me by Byron had probably saved my life in the fights against Saturn and Mars. Better a loss to him than Galactic down the line.

Jasmine, I had learned to know, was not the kind of person to keep texting you when you didn't answer, so she had stopped a few hours after the bombs had gone off. It wasn't because she didn't care. She just wasn't the kind of person to chase after someone who didn't answer back, even when they might be hurt. Part of me thought she might have been scared of what she might have learned if she looked too deep into it.

The words came easier to me this time. Jasmine wouldn't be able to understand fully either, but she was still her. She had gone through the Rocket Wars at my age, busting up compound after compound and fighting them on the open field as well. The story of how her first kill had been a young grunt crushed into red paste under her Steelix's tail had stuck with me all these months because of the face she'd made when describing the event. So sharp; a smile unbending like steel; yet pain hidden deep within.

Jasmine had lived through a momentous event, and she had to learn to live a normal life after. She would be the best person I could go to for advice, and both Buddy and Mimi agreed.

After finishing my text asking if she could call, the steel type Gym Leader messaged back with this.

'How about we just meet instead?'

I blinked, then shook in excitement.

She always did this, didn't she?



As it turned out, Jasmine had been on the Lily of the Valley Island already.

Her outfit was a tailored navy-blue pantsuit that clung to her figure, the jacket cinched at the waist with a thin, silver belt. The fabric of her suit was high-quality, with a subtle sheen that caught the light as she moved. Underneath it, she wore a simple white blouse with a delicate pattern at the neckline and thin, sword-like silver earrings to complete the ensemble. Flanking her were two… Indigo officials? I believed that was a pin of their flag on their chests, a gold and silver bi-color with a streamlined design of Mount Silver at its center. One of them was a raven-haired, lanky-looking guy and the other was a mousey girl with short dark brown hair who was shorter than even I was. Both were wearing dark suits with Pokeballs at their side, and the man was holding an umbrella over Jasmine's head. Buddy was evaporating the raindrops before they could reach me.

The Gym Leader beamed with that slightly threatening smile I'd grown used to and hugged me tight. It was not a suffocating embrace. Light enough to allow me to breathe, but tight enough to know she'd worried about me.

"It's odd seeing you out of your sundresses," I said.

"Believe it or not, I'm working." When the hug finished, she clasped my shoulders tightly and looked me up and down. "Oh, Ho-oh's Flames, you look like you've been through it."

My eyes widened slightly at the saying. I'd never heard her even mention Ho-oh's name, even though I knew the majority of the population in Johto worshipped him (though there was a significant portion of Olivine that batted for Lugia instead). She'd just never struck me as the type to utter his name like that, but it must have meant that I looked really bad.

"I guess." I leaned to the side and glanced at her two… colleagues. The short girl waved at me and introduced herself as Rynara. She looked nice, at least. The opposite of what you'd expect someone from Kanto-Johto, really, but the 'typical' hardy and assholeish trainer was just a stereotype, anyway.

"Oh, that's Rynara. The gloomy guy's Renzo. Don't mind them," Jasmine said. After nodding at Jellicent, and somehow knowing to glance at Mimi's bracelet form, she put her hand on my back and pushed me forward. "Walk with me."

A glare at Rynara and Renzo had them stay back at least thirty feet before they started following. "Remember the two goons I said Lance had sent to keep an eye on me? That's them," Jasmine whispered. "Rynara's pretty unremarkable. Just a bundle of hard work and dedication neatly stuffed into that tiny body. Renzo's a scion of the Natsume clan."

Already, I'd gotten lost in the flow of the conversation. "Natsume?"

"You know Sabrina?" she asked with a grin. "Sabrina Natsume? She's one of the advisors to the clan head, her mother, but really she's the only advisor that matters."

"Oh. Oh. Not the clan head herself?" Every time you heard of a psychic anywhere, you mostly heard of either Sabrina or Will, so I figured she'd be the leader.

"No. She's the heir, though." Jasmine waved a dismissive hand. "Anyway, he's a part of the main family, but the psychic powers he awakened in his teens were ridiculously weak. He could barely lift a stick with them, so he was sent to work for the League. It's kind of a de-facto exile, when you think about it. The politics of it are a lot less funny than him being bitter about getting his freedom from the clan structure." She shook her head. "Too bad he desperately wants to prove himself to get back in instead of spreading his wings."

"Huh." I glanced back at him, and he stared back silently. "I figured. He kind of has bitter body-language, really."

Jasmine chuckled softly. "Oh, how I missed you. What do you want to say?"

"About?"

"About yourself. How brittle are you?" Jasmine asked.

I took a deep, rapsy breath. "Let's… keep talking about you first. While we find a good spot."

"Isn't this place as good as any?" Jasmine gestured in front of us. The beige bricked streets were gloomy and slick with rainwater. There were fewer people out now than earlier in the day.

"No. It's important to… it's important to find a place that matters," I pressed. "I know one. I had a picnic with Cece there once after my stay in the hospital. It's a really steep cliff a ways off from the city up north near the hills. It'd take a while to get there, but—"

"I've got it." The Gym Leader released her Skarmory, who immediately croaked in irritation at the rain that bounced off his armor. The sound vibrated in his throat. "Yes, yes, I know. Feeling up for a ride?"

The question was directed both at me and at him. The flying type reluctantly agreed, and well, I wasn't about to say no to a flight. After confirming with him, I recalled Buddy and the rain started falling down our faces.

Jasmine turned toward her trainers and grinned. "I'll see you two later, I'm off!" she yelled before lowering her tone. "Watch his wings when you climb. They can cut."

"Got it. And Mimi," I whispered as I touched my bracelet, "no biting."

The little blob vibrated in disappointment.



Skarmory wasn't the fastest flier. Even when she had to mind me, Princess went faster. The world below us was encased in a thin fog you could only notice when you were out of it. Mimi shivered around my wrist, as they always did when we flew and they could see so many sights at once. We weren't above the city anymore. The League covered the southern half of the island, but the northern half were still untamed wilds beyond a few dirt paths. Cold rain and wind constantly battered down our faces and made it difficult to keep my eyes fully open.

At least, since Skarmory was slow, we could actually talk without the sound of the wind bothering us. It had taken some adjusting, since I had to ask for her to speak in my good ear. She was riding behind me and without a saddle, and it had taken a few minutes to get the fight or flight out of me. In my head, no saddle still equaled a fight to the death. All that remained now was a mild anxiety.

"What were you doing at the League?" I finally asked her. "I thought you were with Volkner?"

Her body tensed for a moment. "Lance decided to cut my vacation short after he got a call from your Champion. You should have heard his voice when he called me. Whatever it was, he was shaken, and it has to be big to shake Lance, of all people. Chuck said he'd never seen him in such a state since the League was losing battle after battle against Mewtwo."

I gulped. Yeah, and it was even worse than Mewtwo, somehow. The psychic had vanished one day, but it had been of his own volition, not because he'd been beaten.

"So, now I'm no longer citizen Jasmine on a holiday, but Gym Leader Jasmine on a diplomatic mission to Sinnoh, hence the getup," she explained. "Kanto-Johto's looking at sending personnel and Pokemon to Sinnoh to help out. You're lacking in manpower, and bodies are something we've never lacked. Ideally the next round of negotiations would secure you more drugs, Ditto cells for wounded Pokemon and helping to build more field hospitals."

"Oh, wow. Thank you."

"It's not completely out of the kindness of our hearts. It's—" A strong gust of wind interrupted her. "It's mostly politics."

"Well, whatever it is, a good act is a good act. Lance's decision will still save people." I didn't know much about the dragon master beyond what Jasmine told me, and it painted a complex picture. Like she both hated and liked him at the same time. "Arceus knows we need the help. So you've spoken to Cynthia?"

"Only once, and it was a short-lived conversation. Mostly, I speak to other League officials. It's a little bit of a breach of decorum to have a mere Gym Leader speak on equal footing to a Champion. I doubt either of us care about that, but people are watching Sinnoh now more than ever."

I nodded, my hand running over Skarmory's wet shell. The flying type crooned in appreciation. A minute passed before I just came out with it instead of waiting for her to bring it up. "So, are we— are we going to ignore the Copperajah in the room? Craig…"

I couldn't look at her, at the moment, but I pictured her face saddening with the subtle slumping of her arms. "Ah. Yes. I will miss him; he was a dear friend."

"That's… it?" I said, a little incredulous.

"It is what it is, Grace. People die. Friends die. I try not to dwell on it too long, or it'll be the bottle again for me," she muttered. "You know, in many parts of Kanto-Johto, it's considered rude to look sad or cry at funerals or people's deaths as an adult."

"What?!"

"Ha!"
she laughed. "Volkner had the same reaction. A funeral; a death is an opportunity to celebrate someone's life. The sum of their parts and their accomplishments. You get to see how great they were, both in the big aspects and the small." Skarmory let out an agreeing, metallic squawk. "Why would you cry? That would mean you consider their lives to not have been fulfilling."

"That makes no sense— you cry because it's sad," I said. "You'll never see them again!"

She hummed after a boom of thunder. "Different cultures. Volkner's taking it a lot harder than I am, but he can't stop working because his friend died. Gym Leaders have it rough."

And she could relate to him, because she'd been in the same position during the Rocket wars, losing friends left and right but having to keep fighting. To an extent, I understood what she meant. Justin was dead, and it felt like a part of me had been emptied, but I could still live with it. I would never forget him, for as long as I lived, but it was getting a bit easier every day.

Louis was constantly planning for the funeral with Justin's father.

"I think this is the place!" I pointed at the familiar-looking cliffs, and Skarmory began his descent. Now that I'd lived through Princess' antics, it was hard to get surprised or scared at any sudden maneuvers.

The flying type landed in the wet grass with a slight thump that hurt my butt and back, and he screeched at us to get off. The rain had him too irritated to have us on his back for more than was necessary.

"Thank you, crybaby," Jasmine chuckled. Skarmory glanced away from her, and she recalled him.

Once Buddy was out again to shield us from more rain, I sat down on the grass and gestured at Jasmine to do the same. She took off her heels and threw them off to the side with a relieved sigh.

"I hate walking in these. Arceus, I miss my sandals," she complained. "Whenever you're ready, little impaler."

"Grace the Impaler… I haven't been called that since Wake. I guess people kept it going online some. It caught on a little bit."

"It's a wonderful moniker. So?"

My throat felt tight, and rainwater was replaced by sweat. I put my legs close together and hugged my knees. The sea raged against the cliff stones below us like a constant drum, and the smell of salt filled my nostrils. Normally, Buddy would have been enjoying time in the ocean, but not today. Not now. There were many ways for me to go about this, but I decided to cut straight through and get to the heart of the matter.

"How do you live after doing something… something you'll never achieve again?" I asked.

Jasmine's eye twitched. "Ah. I figured it was that."

"Well, not just that, but it's what I think you can help me with. You experienced it, after all. With Team Rocket…"

"Thinking normal life isn't fit for you anymore… it's a common symptom of PTSD, actually." When she saw me flinch back and balk at that statement, she continued. "I guess you don't see it like that."

Aliyah had brought it up once already, when I'd nearly sicced my Pokemon on that girl whose friends I'd saved in Eterna Forest. I wondered how her group were doing. There was Edith—

Jasmine tapped my forehead with a finger. Her nail poked at the skin. "Focus on the conversation at hand."

"I—" How to say this? "It's like, I have spent my entire year preparing for this. I have honed myself, trained my mind, and—" I was chosen for this. As a coincidence, but chosen nonetheless. "It's like my entire life had led to this, and now it's over, and I'm finding it a little hard to believe. It's like, it's never going to sink in."

"Do you crave more fighting?" Jasmine asked.

I tapped a finger against my leg. "Would it surprise you to hear that I was more at ease fighting than not?"

"Not at all," she said. "When we finished purging the Rocket remnants from Johto… I remember feeling similar. Team Rocket had risen back from the ashes, so there was no guarantee they wouldn't again. I was on edge all the time, suspicious of everyone. Money talks, and Team Rocket had spies at nearly every level of our government. Think that little funk with Team Galactic was bad? The Rockets were the richest criminal organization the world has ever seen."

I let that fact settle, and then nodded.

"I had also spent my entire life preparing for this. As a child, I had heard and seen first hand the effects of Team Rocket running rampant. My father desperately tried to make a leader out of me, and when the time came, I was sent to war, and he took over the Gym and guarded Olivine again, he told me this." She leaned in close. "Don't die with a clean sword."

It took me a moment to understand the meaning of that sentence.

"I had been raised for this, and so I could not accept it to be over. I wanted them to reveal themselves, to strike so I would stop playing pretend, even when I was your age and I was just the shyest little thing." Jasmine smiled fondly at the memory. "The war beat most of that out of me."

"Did you get rid of it? That feeling of constantly being on edge?"

"I was an implement with no purpose, condemned to sit in my Gym, fill in paperwork, run Olivine and fight snotty little brats," she lamented. "Alcohol was my remedy for years. Obviously, you can't… you shouldn't do that."

I bit my lip. My hands dug into the fresh dirt.

She'd been an alcoholic for over a decade; had needed to deal with these feelings for over a decade.

"The truth is, Grace, as much as it pains me, I don't have the answers you seek. If I had a way to turn your mind back to that innocent girl I met in a restaurant in Sunyshore, I would do it."

I scoffed. "I was far from innocent."

I had already learned that the world would— might end, and I'd been through the Darkest Day in Solaceon. I had allowed myself to soak in the ways of the fae and bullied Maylene to the point of tears.

"You had not been quite sharpened yet, darling," she said with a saddened smile. "You had a child's priorities. Dates, birthdays, Gym Battles, badges, internet fame… there was a hint of who you could turn into, of course, otherwise you wouldn't have caught my interest, but you were still that. An innocent child."

I sagged against my knees, biting the inside of my lip. "Maybe."

Suddenly, Jasmine lay her back against the ground, not caring for the mud that would get on her pristine clothes. "Lay down with me."

I listened, even if my hands and arms prickled at the blades of grass. The sky was covered in clouds with not a single ray of sun breaking through. It was far more reassuring than staring at the endless expanse that was the Distortion World. It was silly, but when I looked at this sky, it felt like it was contained. Finite. "Okay. Now?"

"Let us speak of the small things, if you want. Unrelated to any confidential information. For example, you play the piano, right?"

"I do. It's at my apartment in Jubilife, though."

"How good are you at it? I've never seen you play!" When I didn't answer, she continued anyway. "You wouldn't believe this, but Surge has taken to the harmonica lately. He's thinking of retiring soon, you know? Maybe in a few years. He's kind of like a more advanced version of you, really. He lives for war and is never satisfied back at home rotting in his Gym, so he wants to die somewhere in Ransei blown up by a mine or something. It's part of why he goes so hard on Challengers, you know?"

"Hm? Does he?"

"I told you back in Sunyshore, didn't I?" Jasmine said.

"Oh. Right, sorry I forgot."

"Don't worry, I can't expect you to remember every little thing I talk about," she said. "So, Surge. He's been deployed to Ransei more times than I can count, and every time, when he gets back home, he gets these depressive episodes for a few weeks. It's like he's homesick." She turned toward me. Her stare was like a needle prickling to the side of my face. "You remind me of him. Your mental state, I mean. You're nothing like that giant oaf."

"...hey, um. Can you keep talking about, like? The small stuff? Like random facts about Gym Leaders in Indigo?"

Her smile dulled at its edges, turning into a soft little thing. "Sure thing! Where should I start… oh, there's Blue, I guess. He's totally obsessed with Red. I think it's love, honestly. Did you know he's never dated anyone, and that guy's close to turning thirty! He'll drone on about how one of these days he'll get him off that damn mountain— that's Mount Silver. Red's been stuck there for who knows how long. Sometimes he goes back down to resupply, but that's once in a blue moon. He even missed…"

I immersed myself in these stories. Closed my eyes and imagined them until they were as crisp as the real thing. Jasmine kept talking for nearly an hour, telling me every little fact she could find about her fellow Gym Leaders.

It was helping a little, but I was still drowning; stuck in a pit of tar.

I stayed silent and listened.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap
 
Last edited:
Interlude - Maylene II
INTERLUDE - MAYLENE II

Maylene had barely slept all night, a far cry from the twelve hours she had gotten her first day back from the Distortion World. The sun hung low over Veilstone, and the sky was clear this morning after rain clouds had covered the entire eastern part of the region yesterday. Maylene stood at attention with a cohort of her oldest, highest ranking Gym Trainers in front of her Gym. Most of them were people who had seen her grow up and taught her, too. People her father had hired back when he still ran Veilstone. Maylene was wearing her Gym Battling uniform, a sleeveless, dark blue top and white pants with a red stripe down the sides. Her fingerless gloves felt comfortable around her hands, and she was usually, but not always barefoot. Since she was out, she had her shoes on— simple running shoes.

Closest to her was Lucario, who was just as nervous as she was. Barely a day out of being stuck in his Pokeball, and he was already being made to meet their father. He had been just as hard on him growing up as he had been on her, demanding excellence at every single step. Miss one, and he would unravel you right where you stood. Beat you up mentally so you could either rise a stronger person or break so he could reforge you into the person he wanted.

Legendaries, Maylene had been blind. The signs had been everywhere for her to see, yet she had instead thrown herself into running her Gym in hopes to impress him. Maybe, just maybe, if she had done a good enough job, then he would finally tell her that he was proud of her.

Their lining up in front of the Gym attracted plenty of stares from early commuters. A lot of them would walk up to Maylene and shake her hand, thanking her for her service to the city. It was difficult to take their gratitude and compliments seriously when she could have been working right now, or Teleported to Snowpoint or Hearthome to help out the cities in need of the most help. There, her fighting types would be a godsend.

"Think it's that one?" Maylene leaned close to her sibling to whisper.

I sure hope so. Better get this anxious feeling over with and break the tension, Lucario frustratingly answered. His eyes lit up with a cold blue, and the fighting type shook his head. Nope. Not this one.

"Unless he's masking his aura." A little trick he'd taught her to keep it suppressed, even if she rarely did so. The taxi passed them and the Gym by without a fuss.

Look, we're both nervous but he has no reason to. Lucario patted Maylene's back. And even then, I would have been able to tell. Don't let your anxiety make you underestimate me. He tried to be cheeky, but Maylene wasn't in the mood.

"You're right. Sorry."

Maylene asked one of the Gym Trainers for the time, and the older woman replied with 7:12 am.

"He's late. It's not like him to be late," she said. "There's like no traffic, either."

Oscar, her father, was not a man for luxuries. He had advocated for them to live a humble life and not use the Gym's resources for their own gain for as long as she could remember, or at least that was until he met Maylene's step mom, decided going to live in an Alolan Resort and that dumping all these responsibilities onto her was a great idea. Who knew, maybe Alison had changed that part of him, too. It wasn't like they messaged regularly at all beyond him checking up on how the Gym was doing, so it had been an entire year since they'd held an actual conversation aside from when Maylene had her breakdown. There, he'd called to berate her for being weak before disappearing again, but she had already hit rock bottom so it hadn't had much of an effect.

It took another seven minutes for Oscar Suzuki to arrive, and he did so in one of Veilstone's taxis, as predicted. As soon as Maylene saw him step out of the car, she found it difficult to breathe clearly. Her hands behind her back twitched, and she had to stop her eyes from darting all around her Gym Trainers. Her father was not the stereotypical fighting specialist. He did not have the body of a body-builder, although he was toned, as was shown by the tanktop he was wearing. He had the same uniform as her on, and in his— in her Gym, it was reserved only for Gym Leaders. Her father still had a head full of pink hair, although his was more of a faded color than hers, akin to Charon's. Usually it would be short— he had always told her to keep her hair short to stop it from being grabbed in a fight— but his time in Alola had allowed him to let himself go. It was long enough to reach his neck, now, and had been curled. It looked like a wave cascading around his head.

Speaking of his time in Alola, he was still relatively tanned. Oscar said something to his taxi driver with a loud laugh before looping around the car to let Maylene's step-mother out, as if she couldn't open the damn door herself. Alison was a delicate little thing, akin to a flower. Her father had met her during the Gym Trainer hiring process, and that meant she was young. Twenty years younger than him, at a striking twenty-six years old. Young enough to be her older sister. She'd been rejected at the interview stage two years back for reasons unknown to Maylene, but they went out for coffee that very week-end, and the rest was history. A year later, they were married and decided on a honeymoon that had never ended.

Instead of being tanned, she just carried the remains of sunburns on her arms and legs. Maylene's step-mother was dressed in what the Gym Leader figured must have been a traditional Alolan garb, an ankle-length dress with colorful, flowery patterns and fabric that flowed like water. Her light brown hair… ugh, they had the same Arceus damned hairstyle. It was enough to make her want to puke—

It was when they both swung around the car, that Maylene figured why her father had helped her up.

Alison was pregnant.

She was pregnant. She was pregnant. She was pregnant. She was pregnant. She was pregnant.

A small nudge from Lucario snapped her back to reality, although she wished she was fucking dreaming. Her father hadn't thought it a good idea to fucking tell her? Maylene gripped her wrist behind her back and struggled to contain the wisps of aura desperate to burst out of every inch of her skin to accompany her anger. Oscar and Alison walked up the Gym steps, and every single Gym Trainer bowed their heads, including Lucario.

Maylene did not. Only she was Gym Leader, and therefore above her father in status, but the fact that he had hidden a pregnancy from her— he was staring; staring her down so intensely she wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He looked larger than life, and each second he did so was like she was being crushed under the weight of his expectations.

She lowered her head.

The dam of tension broke. Finally, she could breathe again. "Maylene! Oh, it's good to see you." Oscar wrapped her into a tight and uncomfortable embrace that she didn't care for. "Sorry for the tardiness, it looks like every single taxi decided to have a day off. Sloppy." He clapped Lucario's shoulder next, and the fighting type answered with a nervous smile and greeting. "I missed you too, Lucario. I hope you've been taking good care of Maylene."

Oscar then greeted the cortege of Gym Trainers one by one, which was going to take a while, but was the reason why he had such dedicated personnel here at the Gym. Maylene glared at Alison when she ignored her greeting as usual. She wasn't a bad person or anything, or at least Maylene didn't think so. Maybe a little aloof. It was unfair of Maylene to expect a twenty-six year old to be the mother-figure she never had (or at least until she got herself pregnant; she was going to have to be a mother soon enough). The problem was that she just constantly acted like Maylene didn't exist, like so, and the Gym Leader didn't find it in her to say hello louder or confront her about it.

The reception now over, Oscar led everyone inside the Gym. Already, he was acting like he was in charge even if he had been neglecting his duties the year he had met Alison and then dumped them all on Maylene because he was so madly in fucking love. Where had all that 'duty' talk been for, if he was going to be a hypocrite about it? Irritating. Balloons in the lobby had been set up to spell out 'WELCOME BACK, OSCAR' right above reception, and nearly eighty Gym Trainers erupted into a thunderous applause as soon as they stepped foot in the building. The man of the hour laughed, making small talk with his employees he hadn't seen in over a year while his wife hung off his arm like a leech.

All Maylene could do was observe with Lucario. Some people just had this… this magnetic property to them. Like, they could step into a room and immediately capture the attention of everyone in it. To some, it was innate, like Cynthia, but Maylene's dad had cultivated this reputation in Veilstone over the decades, and even more so in his Gym. The year Maylene had been in charge had done very little to change that. You couldn't cut away at the roots he'd planted so quickly.

He's just come back and he's already acting like he owns the place, Lucario grouched with his arms crossed. How annoying. It was us who kept it standing. Why does he get the damn victory lap?

She wanted to reply, but didn't. Her father's hearing was as sharp as hers, so for many years, it was only Lucario, who had been able to vent his frustrations whenever a day got tough.

Outwardly, Maylene appeared zen. She had, after all, learned to pretend that she wasn't angry, or frustrated, or sad, or feeling any kind of negative emotion with Oscar in the vicinity. Drinks were brought by a few trainers, though none of them were alcoholic. They'd come from pressed fruits they'd bought at the grocery store yesterday, and of course the Gym had paid for those. Oscar grabbed some freshly pressed mango juice and jokingly complained about how bad it was compared to Alola.

Maylene ground her teeth. She had busted her ass to get this shit ready, so even a joke was getting on her nerves. She hated the fact that she found it difficult to hide what she was feeling, now. A year ago this would have gone over her head, but now…

Stay calm, Lucario whispered into her mind. The day is just beginning.

Alison cackled at every single joke Oscar made with that obnoxious Honchkrow-like sound she called a laugh, but most of her time was spent recounting how beautiful or welcoming Alola was. Oh, did you know they went hang gliding over Akala Island? Oh, you just had to hear about the food, they ate like kings every single day! What about the resort with the fucking 10 pools, the lazy river and the minigolf? The Aether Foundation having built a completely artificial island called Aether Paradise where they cared for Pokemon who needed it? While she'd been working day and night here to keep the Gym running and stop Team Galactic, they'd been having a grand old time!

Fuck off.

"Maylene." Oscar slowly approached her, carrying the confident swagger of a man that owned the world. "What's wrong? Your aura's showing." His hand gently gripped her shoulder, and it was only now that he noticed the hearing aid in her ear. His finger traced its contour, but he didn't say anything.

The blue light permeating through her skin was snuffed out like a candle. Instinctively, she lowered her head, staring at his feet instead of into his eyes.

Giratina had stood not one hundred feet from her, yet her father still made her feel like this. Pathetic.

"Just a little tired," Maylene finally answered. "I—I've been working long hours 'cause I'm helping out the other cities. I've been helping with their paperwork and such, too, when I can."

Finally, she gathered the courage to face him. A prideful smile stretched across his lips. "You're as diligent as always, Maylene."

"You heard her! My daughter's tired!" His voice bellowed across the room. Aura coalesced on his palms, and he clapped them twice. Each sound was a thunderclap reminiscent of yesterday's weather. "Enough partying! Drain your glasses and it's back to work!"

They did just that. Within the next five minutes, the lobby was empty. There was no need for a receptionist when the Gym was closed, after all. Alison and Oscar still remained, the former of which had opted to go on her phone.

"I'm tired, too," she complained. "Sinnoh's totally harshing my vibes right now, it's so depressing compared to Alola."

Before Maylene could protest at how out of touch that was, her father spoke up, "Why don't you go to my old room and rest?" he asked. Maylene had known him long enough to know that the calm in his tone was just a facade. The easiest way to tell was the unnatural smoothness in his voice, but also how he suddenly took three steps away from her. It was good to see that he still cared, at least. "I hope you didn't convert it to something else." Maylene shook her head. "Good. Maylene and I have some catching up to do."

Alison chewed on her lip for a moment. "Are you sure you don't need me here?"

Why would he ever need you here? You don't do anything.

"No, we'll be just fine on our own." He forced a smile. "I'll check up on you and the baby later."

Finally, she took the hint and left, leaving the three of them alone. Lucario shifted uncomfortably under Oscar's gaze, and Maylene could barely even meet it.

"Surprised?" He watched his wife exit the lobby with his arms crossed. "You're getting a baby brother soon. Sorry about her, by the way. She didn't want to come back, so she's a little miffed."

"It's okay," Maylene lied. She never got so many excuses.

"Thanks for the party, but," here we go, "what's with the way you carry yourself?" Gone was the soft tone he'd used for his wife. Her father spoke down to her, his face marred with displeasure. "You sat in the corner for twenty minutes; people barely noticed you were there at all! I raised you better than that!" Maylene flinched at the sudden yell. "You are a Gym Leader, you need to act like it. If you keep acting so lost and weak, people will notice. It'll reflect badly on the Gym, especially in these trying times!"

You were the one who wore a Gym Leader's clothes.

You were the one who stared me down until I bowed my head in front of the others.

You were the one who acted like you were in charge and didn't leave enough oxygen in the room for me to speak.

You were the one who taught me to be subservient to you.


She wanted to say all of this…

A pathetic, coarse "yes, sir," was all that came out.

He clapped her shoulder. "Good, good. Now, show me around the Gym, will you?"

What followed was the longest hour of Maylene's life. No, correction; the longest hour since she had helped Grace and the others save the world. She would show her father around the Gym, both the old and the new, and at first, he would praise her. Make her breathe a sigh of relief and allow a small amount of pride to rise in her chest. Allow her to smile and look up at him, as if to say 'I did a good job?!'.

Then, he would notice something.

It was always the minutest of things. Like too much dust gathering in a corner, or there being not enough four-badge Pokemon, or her not handling the training of the 1st and 2nd-badge level Pokemon anymore after her break, or them having too many Gym Trainers on payroll because she could handle more work, or that Lucario wasn't doing enough, or that—

Or, or, or. There was always something, it was never enough.

No matter how Maylene believed that this time, this room, this hallway, he would not find anything to yell at her about, her father always found a way.

And then he broke her down. Slowly, first. "You are better than this, I know it," he would say. But the more wrong he found, the more these backhanded encouragements turned to insults. "Worthless," he would call her. "You should never have been made Gym Leader. I should have picked x, or y, or even z." Maylene had long learned to disassociate when her father did this to her, so she could barely keep track of what he was saying. That worked for some time, until he asked her "Are you paying attention? Am I boring you?" and suddenly she was forcefully dragged back into the world as if his voice had a grip on her neck and was forced to nod or answer back with "Yes, sir."

Oscar wore her down, slowly but surely. Like a sculptor chiseling at stone. He took her to one of the Gym's lower-level training grounds, a room half the size of a normal arena filled with a myriad of blue fighting mats with bright lights shining from the ceiling. Then, he had a Gym Trainer bring out a few first-badge Pokemon. A Mankey, a Scrafty and a Croagunk.

"Let's see how you train them," he said behind her.

Lucario spoke up, Oscar I can help—

"No. It is the Veilstone Gym Leader's job to personally train their fighting types as soon as they reach the first badge level. You're giving them the foundation from which they will be fighting years from now. That cannot," he insisted on the word, "be half-assed. We won't be doing grapples today. Just hone their reflexes."

Lucario shrank and remained quiet.

"C—Croagunk first," Maylene said.

The poison type nodded. It was nervous to be fighting her for the first time, but it jumped onto the mat with the tiniest of croaks. Maylene raised her fists in a guard—

"Arceus, what even is that?" Oscar complained. "Slightly higher— lower! Your legs— your crouch is all wrong! Where's your center of gravity? I could knock you on your ass with a tiny push. Straighten your back a little. I said a little!" He let out a frustrated scream. "Why are you so scared? No need to look like a stiff wooden board! Relax your body, you're supposed to be fluid. There. Good, you've got it."

Maylene knew her posture wasn't wrong. It was excellent, yet because it wasn't perfect to the exact millimeter, her dad hounded her for it.

"I guess I'll have to move our sparring to tomorrow. If this is how sloppy you got in my absence, we'll have to rework the basics into you first." He exhaled, crossing his arms and shaking his head. Maylene stopped herself from sighing in relief. Spars with him rarely ended well, even on his good days like this one. He must have been happy to be back. "You're squandering so much potential," he continued. "You'll make it far one day thanks to this, trust me."

"Thank you, sir," she muttered.

She hadn't even begun the fight, and she was mentally exhausted. The Gym Leader slowly flexed, working aura through her body until it flared to life and Croagunk flinched. The mat felt firm and supportive beneath her feet, a reminder of the countless hours she had spent honing her skills there. Her father counted down from three, and then the battle began.

With a swift movement, Croagunk lunged forward, its sharp fists aimed directly at Maylene. Slow. She sidestepped swiftly, feeling the rush of air as its attack missed by mere inches. Her heart pounded in her chest, and the harrowing, judging gaze of her father pierced through her—

"Sloppy!" he called out. "What is this? You're worthless!"

She gritted her teeth. Maylene pushed herself down the mat and kicked behind her, but her foot only found air. With a defiant croak, Croagunk lunged at her, forcing her to push herself with her hands into the air away from the fighting type. She landed in a crouch around ten feet away at the edge of the mat.

"Stop dancing around it and win," Oscar pressured.

"Yes, sir!" she yelled.

Your body is a spring. Don't be stiff and let every action lead into another.

Her foot slammed against the ground and within a second, she was up to Croagunk. The poison type's eyes widened as she jammed a fist into its stomach, sending it away from the mat and onto the wooden floorboards. Croagunk rolled nearly forty feet before it managed to catch itself.

"Good," he gruffed. "Sloppy, slow, but good enough to be borderline passable with some guidance. Now the other two."

Maylene shut her eyes. Relief flooded her, but she knew it to be only temporary until he took it away from her again.

She should have been working to help Sinnoh right now. "Yes, sir."



Their Gym tour and her sparring now done with, her father finally told her she could go back to work, though not before worming himself into her duties. He had made himself at home in her office because he didn't want to disturb Alison while she rested, but at least he had allowed her to keep her seat at her desk and he was quiet now, not criticizing her every move. He'd sent Lucario away to work through the Gym, as if he hated when the two of them were together. He was sitting on the floor, just as he liked, with his own laptop on his knees that he had connected to the Gym's email without asking her. Sometimes he would ask what she was doing, and depending on her answer he would tell her to prioritize something else, but he really wasn't that bad—

No! Maylene's knee hit the side of her desk, and she quickly apologized to her father for the sudden noise before he could blow up at her. She heeded Cecilia's words and took a deep breath. Just because her dad wasn't that bad right now did not mean he was not awful. Maylene had lived through the cycle thousands of times. She was lucky Cecilia had texted her last night— or early this morning, she supposed— with many warnings. The girl rarely ever slept anymore. Maylene finished answering a message telling Candice that she would Teleport to Snowpoint early tomorrow, but she struggled to press send. Countless questions ran through her mind. What if her father tried undermining her position and took over while she was gone? Sure, Oscar would never be the actual, de jure Gym Leader, but in practice? Cynthia and the others were too busy for her to ask for help, so she would either have to confront him herself or let it happen…

She liked this job, even after everything it had put her through. She enjoyed helping Veilstone and testing trainers. Maylene liked being a Gym Leader despite the fact that she had been woefully unready when she took over. She didn't want her entire Gym to be swept from under her feet just because Oscar's standards were ridiculously high. It had been difficult to adapt to, but the job was actually fulfilling, now.

No, his standards were only ridiculously high with her. Because he saw potential in her and got angry at her when she didn't meet his absurd goals. Because she was his blood. Because her talent with aura went beyond even his.

Legendaries, she hoped her sibling wouldn't have to suffer the same fate.

But Maylene was being stupid. She sent Candice's Gym the message and leaned against her hand, which clenched at her forehead. A dull headache had been building up from the moment she'd set her eyes on Oscar, and now it was becoming unbearable.

"You know, now that we're in your office, I've been meaning to ask," Oscar said. "What happened to you in Coronet?"

"I—I can't tell you, dad," she sputtered. "I—"

"None of the other Gym Leaders were out there, I checked," he spoke over her. He got up and started pacing. "You can't blame me for being curious, can you?"

"No, I don't, but it's classified." Every time he got close to her, it took everything not to flinch. "It's literally for the Champion's eyes only, even the Elite Four don't know the entirety of what went on."

"You aren't the Champion, Maylene," he said. "And yet, you know anyway."

She was going to hyperventilate. She should have claimed she didn't know anything from the get go. "Lo—Look, if you have an issue, take it up with Cynthia, okay? It's out of my hands."

Bringing up the Champion's name seemingly worked, thank the Legendaries, because she'd been quite literally about to break and spill everything. A notification rang out both in her pocket and her laptop. The name 'Grace' on the top right corner of her screen instantly brought her relief, like she was some kind of painkiller. Her hands still soaked with sweat from the confrontation with her dad, Maylene clicked on the notification.

Grace - Hi Maylene. Is everything okay with your dad? I wanted to text you earlier but Cece told me to wait until your lunch break so you were alone, just in case the texts triggered your father or something.

Lunch break…? Maylene looked at the time and noticed it was 12:26 pm. Right. Lunch Break.

"Something good happen?" her father asked from the corner of the room.

"What?"

"You're smiling. You didn't even smile when you saw your father again after a year." The way he was speaking, Maylene knew it was one of his 'I'm joking, but not really' moods. If she answered jokingly, he would suddenly turn serious and berate her for not taking him seriously, but if she did take him seriously, he would tell her to calm down and to stop being so emotional. "I'm just curious. That's not classified, is it?"

"It's not—"

"It's not a boy, is it? You have no time to involve yourself in romance. Not until you've been trained up to perfection, at least," he said.

He had it all wrong. It wasn't— she'd never been in love, and Grace wasn't even a boy. She was just a friend whom Maylene hoped she could be best friends with one day and for that feeling to be mutual.

"Look, can I go— stretch my legs?"

"Avoiding the topic?" he pressed. "So it is a boy. I'm willing to give him a chance and meet him. If he isn't pushing you to improve and I don't like him, break it off."

She needed out of here, and quickly. Maylene scrambled out of her chair, knocking down a pen holder and sending a bunch of pens clattering on the floor. She nearly ran out of her office with both her laptop and phone to make sure her father wouldn't just look at her stuff.

"When you're back, we're having a conversation about this. Don't be long."

She ran off to the nearest bathroom and caught a glance of herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red and puffy. She was on the verge of having a breakdown. Maylene slowly sat down on the floor, feeling her back drag against the wall as she slipped down, and then the moment she hit the ground, her vision grew blurry and her cheeks felt wet. Her phone chimed again.

"Damn it," she cried, wiping her eyes. "Ugh."

Grace - Hey, I'm double texting cause I know you saw the message and I'm kind of worried.

What? She could see that? Maylene thought back to all the times she had waited to figure out the perfect message to send back and groaned in embarrassment. Was that a setting she'd turned off by accident? At least she had used work as an excuse.

Right now, her shame was low priority, however.

You - Im not gonan lie i need some help today has been awful

She took a few seconds to answer.

Grace - Okay. Can you send a Gym Kadabra or do we need to harass the League for one? Either is fine.

Oh, she was coming over already? Maylene looked around the bathroom and finished wiping away her tears.

You - Ill send a Kadabra. Ur still at that same hotel, right

Grace - Yup.

You - Go out in front. Should be liek 5 mins or so

You - Im sry i was the one supposed to help you and take care of you after all od this but instead its the opposite

Grace - No problem! I wouldn't let you face this alone or I'd be a pretty shitty friend. I'd do it for all of them.

Ugh. There was a pang of pain deep within, new pain she neither knew nor understood. Maylene didn't know what was wrong with her— actually she knew. She wanted to be special. To think like this when Grace was literally saving her? She was being selfish again.

Maylene stood back up, but before picking up her laptop she looked at herself in the mirror again and washed her face. She forced a confident smile, made herself look taller and then nodded. She saw a Gym Leader staring back, this time, not a scared little girl. All things considered, she'd handled this well. She hadn't freaked out and broken something with aura or accidentally hurt someone.

Her laptop in hand, she made her way down the stairs to the ground floor. She could have had elevators installed, but stairs always made for a good workout. Maylene traveled through the long hallway circling the Gym's main arena until she found herself in front of two glass sliding doors. Behind them was a single Kadabra and two League Trainers tending to… his every need. She recognized him by the comically large and clumsily-made spoon he carried around and that lazy stare he had in his eyes. The psychic lounged on a reclining chair with a book about metalworking levitating in front of his face. Every five seconds or so, he would wave a finger and the page would turn. Maylene wished she could read her reports that fast.

Every Kadabra had one topic they were passionate about. One that would seize their very being and never let go until they had learned enough to be satisfied. Pokemon were very rarely paid in human currency. Maylene remembered a Gym Machoke taking Pokedollars from when she was a child because it had actually been renting a small apartment thanks to a very nice and understanding landlord, but it had been the exception among exceptions. Rare were Pokemon who lived like humans. Most Kadabra were paid in food and training, yes, but mostly knowledge, which was why Blair and Matthew over here were continuously working day and night to get Kadabra what he wanted.

It was important to keep their Gym Kadabra happy, or they'd quit, be transferred back to the League, and a high turnover rate in a Gym was usually a bad thing for Pokemon and people alike.

"Leader Maylene," both trainers said in unison. They didn't bow, though. None of that with her. Then, the girl named Blair continued. "Is something wrong?"

They both looked on edge. Before her… intervention and all of the Gym Leaders intervened to basically force her to go on her break, they used to be this nervous around her. She'd been… not an awful boss, she believed, but not a great one like she'd wanted to be either, always berating them for their work if it wasn't perfect and taking more and more of their duties. Sometimes, she'd taken so many that she fired some, even.

You know what, maybe she had been an awful boss.

The apple never fell far from the tree.

She'd worked day and night to rectify her relationship with her employees. While she still didn't want to be just friends— or sometimes frenemies— with them like Candice was with most of hers because she still believed it was important for there to be a boss-worker relationship (although one based on mutual respect), she would be stupid to think that they worked at their best when they were scared of her.

She could already guess why they were nervous. "This has nothing to do with my dad, so don't worry," she sighed. "I need to borrow Kadabra really quickly, if that's okay with you?" she asked the psychic. "It'll take five minutes tops."

Kadabra rolled his eyes. And to think I avoided being sent up to that hell up north to be a glorified Teleporting slave only to end up being one anyway, he complained before hopping off his leather chair. Where do you need me to go?

"The League."

Maylene gave Kadabra the hotel's address and showed him a map using an app on her phone. He wouldn't be able to Teleport right at the hotel, but he would be close enough for it to be a three minute walk. Plus, he would need to rest for a few minutes before Teleporting back in front of the Gym anyway. Most Kadabra the League loaned out to Gyms tired out quickly. Maylene quickly texted Grace that it would only be a few minutes now.

You - Kadabra on his way. Should be a few mins

Grace - Gotcha. We're waiting.

"Um, Leader Maylene." Matthew kept looking at the door behind her. "We won't get in trouble for this, won't we?"

"Trouble?"

"I mean, Leader Oscar—"

"I'm the Gym Leader," she interrupted him and took a step forward, causing him to flinch. "Not my dad. I am the person in charge!" When she noticed how his face twisted in fear, she tried mollifying him by apologizing. "I'm sorry, it's just— it's just been a tough day." She wished she could just tell them to take the day off, but she couldn't. Everyone was needed at the Gym right now, despite what her father told her.

She couldn't afford to stick around with those two. Grace and Cecilia would be there any minute now, so Maylene made her way back toward the Gym's entrance. It was difficult not to think her father was going to jump out at her at any moment demanding to know what she was doing. Maylene believed that he'd wonder where she was soon enough, especially with how he believed she'd been texting a guy. As if she'd ever be interested in romance.

For once, she found the lobby's emptiness soothing instead of disturbing. To Maylene, having it be so empty during the day, even this early, was not something she was used to quite yet. Her Gym was probably the first one that was going to open again in the country since Veilstone hadn't been damaged, and she was excited to get back to the routine sooner rather than later. After Galactic, normal Pokemon battles were exactly what she needed to relax. Plus she'd given some more thought to who she wanted to be as a Gym Leader, and her father's ever-looming presence had accelerated those. She had been in the process of carving a niche for herself before the bombs.

Maylene saw her friend…s Teleport through the glass door. It was impressive how quickly time passed when she was lost in thought. She saw Grace mouth something to Kadabra, who kept glaring at Cecilia as if her mere presence personally offended him. Then, she turned toward Maylene and—

And…

Yeah, uh, yeah.

Okay. Wow.

She pulled one of those bright, genuine smiles that illuminated the world around her. Smiles were funny, really. It was just a motion of the mouth, but she always made it look so great.

Maylene waved at the two girls as they quickly entered the Gym. From what she knew, they didn't exactly want to be seen out and about, so she'd have to keep a tight lid on the flow of information after they were gone. Cecilia, Maylene had noticed, had always been one for feminine clothing. She had a casual, dark dress on that Maylene would never be confident enough to wear, not that they interested her much, nor did she have the figure to. Dresses were difficult to move and fight in. She had a hand over her white eyes to shield them from the sun.

Grace wore baggy jeans, white sneakers and a white t-shirt with 'just be kind' written on the front. Meltan was inanimate around her wrist like usual. By all intents and purposes, these were normal clothes. Probably something she'd thrown on without giving it a single thought. Maylene had never really paid attention to what people wore before, and her eyes had never gravitated toward someone that much; as if they were being forcefully pulled toward Grace without her doing. Not even her closest friends Candice and Gardenia. Suddenly, she felt self-conscious of how horrid she must have looked after crying and being so exhausted.

Though Maylene got the feeling that if Grace ever was as touchy with her as Gardenia was, she'd get a heart attack. The mid length ponytail her hair was in left a lot of her neck exposed. This must have been what wanting to be best friends with someone meant.

One of her trainers passing through the lobby flinched at Cecilia's face and quickly sped away toward where he'd been walking. She was quite scary-looking, especially when her expression was so angry. Angry and tired, though the latter went for both of them. They clearly weren't sleeping much. Kadabra lazily strode back to his room where his book on ironworking awaited.

"Hiya," Grace said. "Are you okay? Do you need a hug?"

Maylene wanted to say yes to that, but couldn't bring herself to. Her reasons wouldn't be pure at all; in fact, they would be selfish. She wouldn't have accepted just because her father was here, but partly because she just liked her hugs. Grace's hug remained the only positive memory she'd had in the Distortion World, so she wondered how one would feel outside of that horrifying dimension.

"Where is he? I'll kill him," Cecilia snarled.

Grace smiled. "Baby, you don't even have your Pokemon with you."

Maylene figured she would have chuckled had she been in the right mood. "Ha. Ha. Very funny—"

"Oh, right. I was joking, obviously." Cecilia shifted in place with a forced smile that was more creepy than not.

For Maylene, the situation suddenly wasn't very humorous. "You both know that violence isn't on the table, right?"

"Oh, we know." Grace nodded and nudged Cecilia's arm with her elbow. "Now, what do you need us to do? Do you need us to kick him out for now? Because you're— hey, did I say something wrong?"

The Gym Leader lowered her head and stared at their feet. "I just don't like talking about it in the open," she whispered. "Can we make some sort of plan in my room? My dad's probably gonna be looking for me any minute now."

"I see he also gives you no privacy," Cecilia said. "Expected. Let's be on our way, then."

It was hard not to be anxious and feel like she was doing something wrong despite common sense dictating that yes, inviting friends over was normal. While they walked down the sleek, wide hall and up the stairs, Maylene sent a message to her Gym Trainer group chat telling her employees not to say anything about Grace and Cecilia being here. She made sure to look if her father had been added first, of course. He hadn't. When Cecilia asked her what was with the laptop she was carrying around, Maylene explained that she'd been scared her father would look at it.

She'd muttered something under her breath in response— Maylene wasn't so sure what. Probably an insult.

Maylene ushered the two girls into her room and locked the door behind them. Her father might suspect she'd be in here, but if he did, he would yell at her through the door before trying to force it open. She'd never been allowed to have locked doors growing up. It was rather minimalistic and not well-furnished. A single couch in the middle of the room facing the wall where a small television was mounted; a kitchen island from where she could cook that she placed her laptop on with a fridge next to it, and a small dining table behind the couch. There was also a hallway leading to her bedroom, though that room was truly empty. Just sleeping mats and a window. Maylene would have rather died than let these two see it.

"Oh, so it does look like that…" Grace muttered.

Knowing the confrontation with her father was coming soon, Maylene was too nervous to pay any attention to it, and Cecilia was intently staring at her Medicham. Medicham sat on the couch, eating a banana by picking it apart piece by piece with her hand.

"On your lunch break?" Maylene asked. The fighting type wasn't the biggest of eaters, so she knew that banana would last her the entire day. "Mind if we use the room?"

Silly, silly Maymay. This is our home, not mine. You are free to use it as you wish! Medicham spoke into her mind, her stumpy legs wiggling.

"Thanks. This is Grace, and this is Cecilia," she introduced them. "Girls, feel free to sit anywhere and make yourselves at home. Do you want anything to drink? Some food, maybe?"

Cecilia turned to face her with a stare she couldn't help but avert her eyes from, and Grace leaned against the kitchen island, content to let her girlfriend speak. "You shouldn't put this off, Maylene." The Unovan walked up to her so very slowly. "We need to go on the offensive, or he'll have you defeated and broken."

Ouch. No confidence in her. Maylene supposed she hadn't really inspired any given that—

"No need to look so hurt. I am not saying this because I do not believe you to be capable of facing your father, but because of my past experiences. The longer you wait, the more doubt will creep in. You will want to delay and say: 'maybe tomorrow', and the days will turn into weeks. Then it will be too late. He will have reestablished himself."

Oh. That made her feel a lot better. "Th—thanks, Cecilia."

Um… what is happening? Medicham asked. The psychic started shoving the peels into her mouth, which made Grace wrinkle her nose for a second. Medicham was embarrassing Maylene!

"We're telling my father— we're telling him that he's been not so great to me and that I'd like to keep some distance," Maylene explained.

Ooooh, yeah! Kick his butt! Medicham cheered. Uh, don't tell him or any of his Pokemon I said that.

When Grace snickered, Maylene quickly recalled Medicham into her ball before she could embarrass her any further.

"Actually Maylene, we're telling him to fuck off," Grace said, now that the conversation grew serious again. "Enough is enough. Like I wanted to say earlier, you, as the Gym Leader of the Veilstone Gym, have the authority to kick him out and bar your doors."

Cecilia smiled grimly. "I know of his type. Consciously or unconsciously, they've broken you down so much that they think you never capable of standing up for yourself. We can be your support, but the final order has to come from you, Maylene." She gripped the side of her arm. Her hands were cold.

Ten seconds of silence passed. Ten seconds of intense stares; ten seconds of self-doubt; ten seconds of wondering if she had what it takes. For so long, she had vied after her dad's pride and attention. For as long as she had remembered, she had pushed herself to be the Gym Leader he wanted her to be instead of who she wanted to become.

"I—I don't know if I'll be able to." And yet, one did not break from fifteen years of domineering so easily. "If I close my eyes and I imagine it, I just freeze up. I'm scared I'll just get pressured and just say yes to whatever he says. I'm scared I'll kick you out instead!" Her fists clenched, and aura flared around her like oil had been poured onto a flame. "I'm useless, I'm worthless, I can't even do this one little thing after—"

Cecilia's mouth gaped as her hand jerked away from Maylene's skin as if she'd touched a hot stove. "That color— I can— I can see it," she said in between pained grunts and moans.

Realizing she'd caused pain, Maylene's aura instantly receded.

"Something to wonder about later. Maylene, calm down. We're here for you, okay?" Grace tried reassuring her. Even she barely worked as a remedy anymore. "We're here for you," she repeated, moving toward the Gym Leader. Her hand rubbed Maylene's back so, so gently.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Cecilia, I didn't mean to—"

The dark-skinned girl showed her palm, though she still seemed mildly hypnotized by the fact that she'd seen color again since her death. "I'm not even burned. It's nothing. The feeling's already passed." Even Maylene could tell that she'd been enthralled by the color.

"So we have a plan, right? And we'll be right there," Grace said. "You get him out, get your space back, get time to breathe and recuperate. Then, if you want, you can have another conversation at a later date in a neutral environment where you really drag him through it. Make him feel the pain he's caused you tenfold; turn your words into a weapon that leaves him bleeding out right then and there." Her eyebrows rose a centimeter, as if she'd remembered something. "Or— you know, never see him again. I guess you could want that, too."

Did Maylene want a clean break? She wasn't sure, but right now she had to focus on step one.

"Okay. Okay. I can do this," Maylene whispered to herself. "You can do this. I'll tell him to leave, I'll tell him that—"

Then,

Her world froze.

A knock on the door. Three distinctive booms that felt like electricity coursing through her skin. Her breathing grew so rapid she couldn't tell exhale from inhale. That was her dad. Grace and Cecilia's voices seemed far away now, and her vision grew blurry, save for that door. It narrowed, staying in focus, and she couldn't help but imagine her dad behind it. Deformed, tall, monstrous. 'You'll never be enough,' she already heard. He'd come for her, he had—

"Maylene," his commanding, deep voice rang from behind the door. "Someone told me you had people over. This isn't what we discussed." Three other knocks, stronger this time.

Damn it, someone had fucking leaked anyway! This place was a den of Sevipers! "I can't do this, I can't fucking do this!" Maylene gripped the sides of her head.

She heard a soft, metallic scrape, and then a subtle click. The door opened, revealing Oscar's looming frame that nearly spilled over the door frame. He always looked bigger than he actually was to her, as if he was leaving her no escape.

He had anoter fucking skeleton key. Or maybe he'd had a double made years ago— whatever, now wasn't the time!

Her father's eyes were instantly drawn in toward Cecilia's wounded face, then to Grace, then to her, where his gaze remained, and by the Legendaries, it was just so heavy until he finally stared at Grace again.

"You. I recognize you," he slowly spoke, his voice low and threatening. "You're the girl who humiliated my daughter. This is the kind of people you have over, Maylene? Have you no self respect?!" Maylene flinched away as if she'd been struck. "Making friends with the person who proved to the world that you weren't enough to run this Gym?"

Grace and Cecilia had been silent up until now. Maylene guessed it was to see if she was going to retort, but she couldn't. It was as if her mouth had been sewn shut.

Cecilia stood back up, her movements quick, yet clunky. "People change and learn from their mistakes," she bit back. "Apparently, you haven't." She raised a finger. "Oh, and also. Is this why you're back and trying to sweep the rug from under your daughter's feet? Because she was hurt and dared to show it in public?"

"And this is— this is the Obel girl. A foreigner." Oscar scoffed, then shook his head as if incredulous. "I thought you were smarter than this. Arceus, do you ever think about the consequences of your actions? About what people will say about this when it comes out?" he berated Maylene. "They'll say you're a weakling. That you're making a mockery of us. And maybe you are." Oscar jammed a finger toward Grace. "You let the people who walked all over you put ideas in your head—"

"Shut it," Grace said. "That is your daughter. Your child, the person you're supposed to love the most in the world. She's not a thing you can yell at until she fits the mold that you want. She's a living, breathing being."

"Give me a break." He rolled his eyes and laughed. "You're the cause of the problem in the first place. And what does a teenager know about raising a child?"

Grace bit her lip. Maylene could almost see the calculus going through her head. She considered her Pokemon her children, and no one could take that away from her. The thin thread of restraint she had left snapped on her face in an instant, and it morphed into twisted anger.

Then, she lashed out.

"Hey, no, you know what, fuck you!"

"No need to get so emotional," her father smugly said.

The yelling grew frantic, with Grace growing louder and louder and Oscar taking it all in as if they only made him stronger. If looks could kill, her father would have been a crumpled corpse on the floor. It was only a few exchanges later, that he—

"Maylene is my daughter!" His voice, amplified by aura, was like a shockwave washing over them; so loud it was like being hit by a hammer. "As you said, she is my child. I will decide what will happen to her until she's ready. You're just a kid who's way in over her head…"

Maylene wondered why he'd stopped.

Then she saw Grace's hand hovering over her Jellicent's Pokeball.

"What are you going to do, exactly?" Oscar asked. "Release a Pokemon and attack me? My, it must be true what they say about you."

Grace's face just shattered in a way that was agonizing for Maylene to look at. "I—I—I'm sorry, I—" Her hand shot up, and she seized it with her other one to stop it from moving any further, as if it had a mind of its own. She started mumbling under her breath, so fast and quiet Maylene could barely catch what she was saying.

Aura surged and crackled right beneath the edges of her skin, like a cup being filled with enough water to nearly, nearly overflow. Maylene yelled, suddenly finding her confidence, "Hey! Leave her alone—"

Before she could finish that sentence, Cecilia lunged at Oscar with her hand ready to wrap around his neck. She jumped at him with exaggerated movements, as if she was being controlled by a drunk puppet master, but Maylene restrained her first by grabbing her from behind and pulling her. Her father didn't budge, though he did end up flinching when her hand ended up an inch from his throat. Usually he would have snatched her wrist and squeezed to hurt, especially when it would have been self-defense. Maylene let Cecilia helplessly struggle against her, and her father slowly regained his wits and just laughed.

"See who you associate with, Maylene?" He chuckled darkly, taking a step back. "Violent children who have outbursts instead of communicating. And I'm the problem."

Maylene finally let go of Cecilia, who glared at her, as if Maylene hadn't stopped a catastrophe from happening. "The way you communicate might as well be violence, with how it's wounded your daughter for life," the Unovan hoarsed out. Grace was still quiet; somewhat dejected, but at least she'd stopped mumbling to herself and had recovered a little.

Riding the wave of outrage she had from her dad hurting Grace, Maylene took a deep breath. "I think… I want you to… um… like, leave. With Alison. Please."

It had been said in the tiniest, meekest voice possible. She'd been staring down at her feet, sweating bullets and her hands had been fiddling together.

But it had been said.

"No," he simply answered. Crap, what could she respond with now? "You need me here to run the Gym. This place is being run by amateurs—"

"Sir," Cecilia interrupted him, her voice cold and barely-tempered. "You are a malignant growth. A parasite that has come to gorge on your daughter's own exhaustion and hard work so you can take the credit when everything is said and done and Sinnoh returns to normal." Maylene's eyes widened. She hadn't heard her speak with so much strength since she had died. "I know your kind and what must be done to dispose of the likes of you. You are a cancer lodged deep into this place's ecosystem who can only be removed through scorched earth. The Gym Trainers and your daughter fear you for your reputation; you hold much sway over their fates and power over their heads, but take that away and you. Are. Nothing. Another few years, and you'll be entirely forgotten— a bad memory!" She sounded high-strung and crazed by the end of it. Her twisted smile seemed to stretch too far to be natural. It was as if it had been plastered on her scarred face.

"Maylene is ten times the Gym Leader than you are," Grace said a little shakily. "Being a Gym Leader implies that you have to be a leader. A good leader is compassionate. A good leader is not feared by the ones they rule, they are respected and liked. Otherwise, well… we know how the stories end," Grace shrugged before declaring, "you are a monster, Oscar Suzuki, and it takes one to know one."

For a moment, there was silence.

"You— you aren't that," Maylene mumbled to Grace. "You aren't a monster. And yeah. Um, dad, I think I'd run the Gym better alone. Sor—" Maylene stopped herself from apologizing. "You need to leave. This is an official order from Veilstone's Gym Leader."

Oscar was fuming. Maylene could see a vein popping out on his forehead behind his faded pink hair. His body was tense, his arms were crossed and she was honestly surprised he hadn't started yelling at her yet.

"Fine. See how you like it when the Gym collapses without me," Oscar growled, turning toward the door in a motion so fast it left Maylene dizzy. "You think your Gym Trainers will just accept the fact that you've kicked me out? They're loyal, something you still don't seem to understand."

"I suppose we'll see," Maylene said.

"Hmph. I raised you better than this," he grunted. "These 'friends' have been a bad influence on you."

Then, he was out the door. He slammed it, and hard. Enough for the wood to splinter around the hinges, causing the frame to crack and the door to hang slightly askew. The force of the slam left a visible dent in the wood, and the handle rattled precariously, as if it might fall off at any moment.

Maylene would have collapsed on her knees had Grace not caught her. She felt like she'd run for a marathon for a week straight. With ragged breaths, she struggled back to her feet as tears welled up in her eyes.

"You did it," Grace softly said. "You were amazing."

I was worthless, she instantly thought. You both did most of the talking.

Cecilia walked up close to the broken door and wrinkled her nose. "This is only the first step. He'll be back. He might speak to the press, too. Luckily I doubt he'll find much attention there, and he'd probably appear tone deaf given the situation."

"I saw him for who he was— pride and ego. I think he genuinely believes Maylene to be incapable," Grace said, shaking her head. "But hopefully if he actually tries more of his bullshit the other Gym Leaders will be less busy and will be able to help. Though we're always here if you need it."

Maylene remembered, back when all of her fellow leaders had called her shortly after her breakdown. Byron had offered to have a stern talk with her father for him, going as far as threatening to smack him in the back of the head with his shovel. She remembered as a child, how estranged both he and Roark had been. He knew about bad parenting and burying your child under heavy expectations, even if he'd changed for the better. She just wished her dad had been the same.

She just wished she had a dad who loved her.

"Th—thank you," Maylene sobbed. "Thank you so much for be—being here for me."

Maylene felt a rush of relief as Grace stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her. Her embrace was warm and tight, her presence a soothing song to Maylene's frayed nerves. Maylene allowed her head to sink onto her friend's shoulder as she cried and probably soaked Grace's t-shirt with tears and snot. She could feel Grace's slow, calming heartbeat against her chest. Did that mean Grace could feel her own heart beating so fast it hurt? How safe she felt in her arms, how soft and delicate Grace was, how nice she smelled, how gently her fingers ran along Maylene's hair and touched her scalp; the silky strands of hair she'd missed in her ponytail brushing up against the side of Maylene's face. Finding all of that pleasant was probably natural.

Her neck was a little uncomfortable because Grace was shorter than her, but she still didn't want the moment to end.

Yet it did. She didn't know how long it lasted, but it did. Cecilia was irritatingly tapping her finger on her elbow by the end of it, yet she had said nothing. Maylene supposed it might have been too much given that Grace was her girlfriend.

Maylene wiped the remainder of her tears with her arm. "Ugh. Sorry 'bout your shirt," she said.

"It's alright, it's just fabric with no meaning attached to it, I'll wash it later."

The door rasped open, dragging against the floor. For a moment, Maylene balked, thinking her dad had come back. "Maymay? Wait, what happened to the door?"

Maylene's head swiveled up. All caught up in her emotions as she had been, the Gym Leader hadn't noticed that someone else had been approaching.

"Nia?" She could barely believe her own eyes, yet her fellow Gym Leader was standing there in baggy clothes and khaki overalls. "What are you— I thought you were busy."

The grass type Gym Leader had been hit somewhat hard by the news of Craig's death, but none of them had been hit as much as Candice.

"I knew your father was coming back today, so I decided to swing by anyway. I had a meeting planned with the City Council, but it's just procedure to pick and choose where to allocate our emergency fund. Eterna has that archaic law saying I have to be present or send a representative, yadda yadda you know the drill. They're just putting a stamp on what I already decided, so I sent Roro instead. So, the door?" Gardenia asked warily. It was only then that she glanced at Cecilia, who was the closest, and jumped a little.

"Sorry," the Unovan dryly said.

"No, I just… you know what, I can't phrase this in a way that isn't offensive," she said.

"H—hi. Nice to meet you, Gardenia. Leader Gardenia!" Grace stumbled over her words. Maylene had never seen her that nervous, but she remembered Candice telling her that Nia was her favorite Gym Leader. "Sorry to intrude!"

Nia sighed, returning her gaze back to Grace and Maylene. "Nice to meet you too, I suppose."

"It was my dad." Maylene hastily went on to explain the entire confrontation, save for the murder attempts or near-murder attempts. It still didn't feel real to her. She'd stood up to her father. She used the opportunity to finally tell all of them that Alison was pregnant, and she was glad she hadn't just been insane. It was normal to be angry that Oscar hadn't told her. Growing up, she'd always felt like the crazy one, or at least her father insisted that she was always in the wrong, always too emotional, or that she didn't know what she was talking about. "Now he's gone for a while, I hope. I don't know when I'll want to see him again," she finished.

Gardenia pinched the bridge of her nose. "God, I'm so confused. Okay. Yeah, okay. I'm sorry, Maylene, I should have come here sooner and been there for you. Your father would have gotten stern words from me." Maylene did not doubt it, from how she could dismantle someone with only a glance. They'd been colleagues for a bit, too. She walked up to Maylene and wrapped her in a tight hug that Maylene returned. Warm, welcomed, but no funny feeling in her stomach. Odd. "I have an hour free, if you want me to stay. Well, it's really more like forty minutes, but I can stretch it to an hour."

"Nia, don't. Eterna City needs you," Maylene protested. "Forty minutes is okay."

"And you two…?" Gardenia asked.

"I—I guess we'll leave." Grace leaned against the kitchen island. Maylene's heart sank. "I wouldn't want to intrude— Cece, what about you?"

She simply nodded. "If your father ever comes back, give me a call."

"Maybe I should be here too in case you attack—" Grace stopped, then cleared her throat awkwardly. "Anyway. Yeah, we'll get out of your hair."

"If you want to," Maylene said with a forced smile. Maybe they wanted to leave? Maybe she'd asked too much of them, and now they wouldn't speak to her anymore.

And just like that, they decided to leave. Maylene and Nia walked with the two until they were back in the Gym's lobby waiting for Kadabra to come back and Teleport them back to the League. The goodbye was awkward. Maylene thanked them again for helping, but she couldn't formulate the words the way she wanted, especially toward Grace. All she got was a wave, too. A few days ago she'd be content with a wave. She'd have been happy with it, even.

Maylene left the lobby in a hurry, but she didn't go back to her office or her living quarters right away. Instead, she skulked around the door, telling herself that she was better off waiting for Kadabra to get here. Teleporting within the Gym wasn't allowed, after all.

Gardenia shoved her hands down her overall pockets. She'd been texting someone on her phone. "You wrote to them to help you out, huh." When Gardenia looked at her, there were no secrets. Her amber eyes could read her like a book. "I underestimated how close you were. I thought you were just friends." She wasn't bitter about it, nor was she accusing her of anything, Maylene knew.

"We are," she said. "I mean, I hope so. I don't know."

Gardenia snorted and caressed her arm. "Come on, Maymay. You'd have to be close for them to accept facing down your dad. He used to be a Gym Leader, for Arceus' sake!"

Maylene leaned against the wall, hidden from view of the glass doors. She rubbed her tired eyes and sighed, both happy that they'd gotten her father out and sad her friends were already leaving. She knew dreams of hanging out were just that, anyway. Dreams. She'd already been on a break for too long, and she hadn't even eaten. Lucario, the rest of her team and her Gym Trainers needed her at the helm to right the ship. Hell, she had recalled Medicham for basically no reason.

She took a step forward.

Maylene's hearing had always been better than average, even with her now-damaged left ear. Consciously or unconsciously, she opened her senses and leaned back against the wall despite Nia looking at her weird.

"...difficult. I lost my cool there, I should have been better," Grace said.

"Why is it that you have to be better while others can just walk over you?" Cecilia questioned. "I doubt you'd have killed him. He would have stopped you, I think, and if you did, well he deserves it," she spat. "But maybe… maybe I need to figure out how to put a lid on these feelings too. If I attacked someone in Unova this way for bad mouthing you, it would ruin me."

"It would," Grace acquiesced, her voice soft. "Thanks for— thanks anyway. It means a lot to me."

"Hmhm."

A beat of silence.

"Do you think Maylene will be fine?" Cecilia asked.

"Oh, she will. She's strong and never gets knocked down for long," Grace praised. Maylene felt her face heat up. "Better we leave her and Gardenia to work things out, though; we'd just get in the way. They've known each other for a lot longer. Candice told me they were like sisters, you know?"

"They did seem rather close."

"You know, it'd be nice if we could go back to that restaurant you took me to that one time, you know?" she said. Maylene could hear the smile in her tone. "Ugh, Be— Hatterene's so close, too. I wish I could go see her and Nightstalker."

Cecilia laughed. "I'm pretty sure that's like the fiftieth time you've nearly slipped with that Pokemon's name. She should start charging you."

"Hey! Believe it or not, I have enough stories to pay her tenfold, now!"

When she finally left back toward her office, she saw their hands intertwined so tightly, Grace leaning against the side of her girlfriend's shoulder. That new feeling; the pain in her chest came back at full force.

"Maymay, is something wrong?" Gardenia asked.

"No," she lied and fixed her face.

"Hm. Okay." The word was drawn out in a way that Maylene knew just meant she had figured something out, but Maylene had been too shaken to inquire any further.

Ah, Kadabra was waddling over. Back to chatting with Nia, then back to work.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap
 
Last edited:
Chapter 319
Togekiss/Princess (Hustle) - Pound, Sweet Kiss, Growl, Headbutt, Fairy Wind, Ancient Power, Extrasensory, Thunder Wave, Air Cutter, Wish, Psychic, Shadow Ball, Dazzling Gleam, Moonblast, Charge Beam, Air Slash, Mystical Fire, Tri-Attack, Nasty Plot, Defog

Jellicent/Buddy (Water Absorb) - Bubblebeam, Night Shade, Absorb, Water Sport, Water Pulse, Hex, Poison Sting, Mist, Acid Armor, Shadow Ball, Recover, Brine, Whirlpool, Hydro Pump, Water Spout, Acid, Will-O-Wisp, Ice Beam, Taunt, Scald, Boil, Freeze, Protect, Ice Blade, Rain Dance, Extrasensory

Electivire/Honey (Motor Drive) - Thundershock, Swift, Electric Swift, Thunder Punch, Charge, Leer, Ice Punch, Thunderbolt, Discharge, Fire Punch, Protect, Cross Chop, Thunder, Low-Kick, Screech, Radiant Leap, Static Shield, Bulldoze, Hammer Arm, Rain Dance, Lightning Bolt

Tangrowth/Angel (Chlorophyll) - Vine Whip, Absorb, Mega Drain, Stun Spore, Bind, Poison Powder, Leech Seed, Ancient Power, Power Whip, Knock Off, Sunny Day, Giga Drain, Sleep Powder, Solar Beam, Solar Blade, Brick Break, Ingrain, Bulldoze

Tyranitar/Sweetheart (Sand Stream) - Leer, Tackle, Horn Attack, Rock Throw, Payback, Stomping Tantrum, Smack Down, Bite, Rock Slide, Crunch, Sandstorm, Iron Defense, Dragon Pulse, Iron Head, Earthbreaker, Aerial Ace, Stone Edge, Dark Pulse, Rock Polish, Surf, Earthquake

Turtonator/Sunshine (Shell Armor) - Smog, Ember, Smokescreen, Incinerate, Iron Defense, Flamethrower, Shell Trap, Dragon Pulse, Bulldoze, Scorching Sands, Rock Tomb, Body Slam, Flash Cannon, Solar Beam, Rapid Spin, Scale Shot, Iron Tail, Focus Blast, Sunny Day, Fire Pillar, Flame Charge, Heat Crash, Fire Blast

Claydol (Levitate) - Mud Slap, Rock Tomb, Rapid Spin, Harden, Confusion, Psychic, Barrier, Imprison, Wide Guard, Light Screen, Reflect, Ancient Power, Teleport

Meltan/Mimi (???) - Not a battler

A/N: A reminder of who has what Pokemon:
Denzel: Sylveon (M), Roserade (F), Milotic (M), Lopunny (F), Froslass (F), Altaria (F)

Cecilia: Hydreigon (M) Talonflame (F) Slowking (M) Scizor (M) Golurk (Genderless/M) Toxicroak (F)

Pauline: Charizard (F), Gothitelle (F), Braviary (F), Vigoroth (M), Primeape (M)

Justin: Arcanine (M), Krookodile (M), Ludicolo (M), Audino (M), Toxapex (F), Corviknight (M)

Louis: Gabite (M), Empoleon (M), Ninetales (F) Vespiquen (F) Bisharp (M)

Chase: Lucario (M) Houndoom (M) Zangoose (F) Vikavolt (M) Abomasnow (M) Sigilyph (F) Wimpod (F)

Mira: Alakazam (M) Gengar (M) Magnezone (Genderless/M) Gardevoir (F) Porygon2 (Genderless/F) Exeggcute (M)

Maeve: Infernape (M) Starmie (Genderless/M) Drapion (M) Staraptor (F), Gligar (M) Yanma (M)

Emilia: Metang (M) Lyranroc (M) Ambipom (M) Braixen (F)

Lauren: Sceptile (M) Magmortar (M) Aggron (M) Reuniclus (M) Seismitoad (F) Rhydon (M)

CHAPTER 319

"Okay, so what you want is to take a deep, deep breath," I slowly whispered, one eye open. I was lying flat against the ground with Mimi next to my face in our hotel room. The steel type mewled, their eye turning to a thin, disappointed line. "I know you don't breathe, just… feel it."

Meltan stared at me, and then huffed. They pointed an arm forward and took aim toward their designated villain: Buddy. The ghost had split some of his body mass and made a Mimi-sized clone of himself, or a smidge bigger. The rest of his body was off reading a book in the living room.

Mimi cried out with a cute, squeaky sound; squeezed their eye shut and shot out a tiny, shiny metallic pebble. The throw was slow and arced through the air, glinting in the ceiling lights before it bounced off the mini-Jellicent and clattered on the ceramic tiles with a soft plink. Of course, even at full power, Mimi was harmless, but Buddy played the part. He made his eyes shine brighter than a star in the night sky, then dim and slowly lost in mass, deflating like a balloon until he crumpled on the floor as a puddle of water. It would evaporate and join back with the main body soon enough.

"You did it!" I sat up and swept Mimi up in my hands. "You vanquished Buddy— uh, the evil, nefarious Predator Of the Abyss, nay, Terror Of The Depths!" I spun them around in my arms. "No one will be able to stand up to you now! Ohhh, you deserve a feast after such a fight."

I placed the steel type on my shoulder, where they excitedly jumped up and down at the thought of replenishment. Yesterday's visit to Maylene had been… something. My friend hadn't heard anything from either her father or stepmom, so at least that was good news, but I couldn't help but anticipate his next move, if it was even coming. It was something to keep my mind occupied.

The relief I'd felt when I'd been about to send out Jellicent and attack him still haunted me. A feeling that finally, the world had stopped putting on airs and I'd be of use again was something that would haunt me for weeks to come.

Of course, Oscar hadn't even contemplated attacking me; his aura-powered voice had just been loud enough to trigger my fight or flight— and for me, it was always fight.

After grabbing my supply of scrap metal from the pantry, I lay everything out on the floor. Mimi jumped on them like a kid would in a pool and started eating their full as if they were an industrial grinder, interspersed by various metallic screeching or burps. I winked at Buddy for playing his part, and he 'winked' back, rapidly dimming one eye.

For all child-like they behaved, they'd expressed how proud they were that I hadn't attacked Oscar. They'd been on my wrist that entire day, after all. Meeting Gardenia in such circumstances hadn't been ideal, but at least she hadn't screamed at me like I feared, or thought I'd been the one to make Maylene cry, or believed I had influenced her with my empathy to be my friend. Paranoid? Maybe, but misunderstandings such as these would have been just my luck.

Arceus, months ago I would have fangirled over her so much. I still did, kind of, but I'd probably have tried to talk to her about battling or something and came on way too strong.

Being a mom was fulfilling, and more importantly distracting, but I had something else planned today beyond the usual hospital visit to Chase, Denzel and hanging out with Emilia and the others.

Visiting the League's prison.

Getting it approved had taken a while, not because letting a trainer randomly get into the most secure place in the country was unprecedented, but because the people who could push the right levers to get me in were all difficult to get a hold of. It was Andrew Frazier, who I'd managed to get permission from. He was the League Commander who had spoken to us in the bunker we'd been shoved in after the bombs. As soon as Mimi finished replenishing themselves, I lowered my hand and let them climb on it. They were always lethargic after eating, so they nearly dripped off my skin as they crawled up my arm and into my sleeve. When I told Jellicent he could keep reading should he want to, he closed the book, dropping it on the couch with Extrasensory, and he looked at me like I was stupid for even suggesting that.

"I'm not going to lie, I was hoping you'd say that." Not having a Pokemon with me would make the uneasiness ten times worse. "You just looked interested, so…"

Buddy floated over and told me the book would always remain. If something happened to me while he wasn't there he would never forgive himself. I had at best eight to nine decades left in me, so he was going to make the most of them.

"Eight to nine decades is a while," I contemplated as we walked out the hotel room. I could feel Mesprit wanting to desperately say something, clawing at the edge of my mind. "Though I guess for you, it isn't. I can't really imagine myself as an old woman."

We chatted about what I'd be like as a senior until we made it out of the hotel. I scanned the surroundings until I found the specific person I'd been looking for. Instead of making himself tall and waiting in the middle of the entryway, Louis had quietly carved out a place for himself near the decorative hedges, hidden away from any but the most attentive of eyes. I smiled and waved at him, and it took my friend a few seconds to notice me. His golden blond hair was a mess of a bedhead, but he was taking care of himself now, at least. Showering, dressing well, shaving, moisturizing, so on and so forth. The scar running from the corner of his lip to his ear he'd gotten in Coronet when we'd gone to save Cece was still as prominent on his face as it had ever been. At his side was his Gabite. The tall drake looked somewhat uneasy, his yellow eyes and body occasionally twitching. I used to find him somewhat intimidating, but he looked like a whelp next to Cynthia's Garchomp.

Granted, that was every Pokemon I'd ever seen.

"Looks like your dragon needs a fight," I said with a slight quirk in my lip. I hugged Louis, which he hesitantly returned. Gabite hastily growled in agreement. "How're you doing, Louis?"

"Gabite does need some exercise, and he'll get some soon, though he's been battling my other Pokemon as of late." Gabite grunted, complaining that he was bored of them and wanted something new, like Maeve's team. Louis exhaled and ignored him, though I wasn't sure how much of that he'd understood. "I'm… doing. Living day by day and trying to keep my head above the water. You?"

"I'm pretty much the same. Sorry I haven't been around much." I brought a single finger toward Gabite, who rumbled in response— kind of like a Glameow's purr, if you were generous. My hand caressed the dragon's neck. Petting things was nice. It was apparently the universal language of love. Of course, it was short-lived. Dragons generally didn't enjoy displays of affection from anyone other than the ones they respected.

Louis simply greeted Jellicent with a nod the ghost barely returned. "I understand. I've not exactly been available, either."

We started walking. "Right, right. How's, uh, how's—" Could I just bring the funeral up? It wouldn't be very tactful. "How are— how are things?" Gah, so awkward. I stared off to the side, toward a group of kids grumbling about the fact that we still had no word on when the Conference would be. They were probably children of government employees.

"Planning for the funeral with Al, mostly." Al was short for Albert, Justin's father and CEO of Pherzen. While I'd never seen the man, Louis had been talking to him extensively over the last few days. "We don't have—" he stuttered, then gulped, "a date yet. Sometime next week, depending on how the dice fall."

Not knowing what went into planning funerals, I had no idea if that was a long or a short time.

"But, uh, Al's been great. Him and Anna are devastated. You know, Justin— he never did believe his parents loved him as parents should, and… yeah, they weren't great." He ran a shaky hand through his hair and laughed nervously. "With the whole deal propping him up as a trainer to advertise Pherzen, and then the darkness that took him over in Solaceon it's easy to see why they were estranged."

Too quick to forgive, in my opinion, but the death of a loved one had a way of making you reevaluate everything about yourself. I answered with a noncommittal nod as we made it to the end of the beige-orange street where a tram with a flock of Starly and somehow, a Luxio was lazily riding, her tail swaying over the edge, and we waited for the streetlight to turn green.

"Any more info on the funeral?" I said. "Wait!" I yelled, soliciting annoyed stares from a few passersby. "Actually, we had a conversation before he died in Canalave where we ended up talking about being remembered and stuff because of Seafarer's Day." The light had turned green already, but Louis was too focused on what I had to say to notice, so I gently pushed him along. "We were talking about our deaths, and he said he'd rather be cremated than buried."

Louis stopped one step from the sidewalk. "What?"

Suddenly, guilt gripped me. "I'm sorry, I— I didn't forget as much as there was so much going on. I mean, there was the bombs, then we figured he was dead at the Lake, then Coronet, then…" I bit my lip. "I'm sorry."

Louis nervously chewed one of his nails, as if thinking about everything he would have to change for the funeral. "I would have liked to know earlier, but at least you remembered, so it's no harm no foul." He grabbed his phone from his pocket and started texting… Albert, I assumed, and we started walking again. "For the funeral, it'll be a small ceremony. Close friends and family only. Cousins, uncles and such," Louis said. "We're planning on holding it in— in Floaroma. Where I hope to open my sanctuary sometime next year with Albert's financial backing."

My mouth gaped. "Louis! That's amazing; I'm so happy for you, you finally found the money!" The mood cratered in a second. "I wish it could be in better circumstances, of course."

His face grew grim, and even Gabite patted him on the shoulder with a reassuring growl. "Don't we all? The land is actually going to be bought soon with the remains of what I still have from my father's wealth and Albert's generous donation, but I am hoping for Justin's Pokemon to be its first… inhabitants."

"Louis, that's— that's so sweet of you." It was a tragedy, how his father had ruthlessly eliminated that part of him for so long. "I'm sure you'll help them grieve and get through this. I honestly can't think of anyone else to help them." Louis had been the closest to Justin's team outside of Maeve, and he was just… he just seemed like he could do the job. Give parts of himself to help others. "Are they still being held at Canalave's Center?"

From what I knew, they'd been let out once to process the news of Justin's death. Every Pokemon Center had a trauma processing unit for Pokemon in case their trainer was grieviously injured or died, and while it saw way less use today thanks to Sinnoh being safe outside of a few routes and areas. They couldn't be put in their Pokeballs and kept in the dark forever. The news always had to be delivered eventually.

I just hoped they wouldn't have to be alone for long. When I asked Louis, he said there were some legality problems. Officially, he didn't have the rights to Justin's Pokemon, and he also didn't have the right to have more than six Pokemon, at the moment. My friend proceeded to tell me that normally, when a trainer died, their Pokemon passed on to their family members with priority to children, parents or trainers. If there was an issue with the Pokemon carry limit, then they'd be split among the family. If they had no family, then they were given to the Rangers, where they'd be able to get routine back into their lives and decide if they liked their new life, wanted to try something else with the government or if they'd be released back into the wild in appropriate environments.

"Then why doesn't Justin's dad have them already?" I asked.

"It's an entire process," he said. "It hasn't even been two weeks, it'll take some time to get finalized."

Legendaries, it felt so much longer than that.

Legalese about owning Pokemon made me a little sick to my stomach. It veered too much into treating Pokemon like possessions instead of partners, like so many aspects of our society. The worst offender was breeding— but I couldn't get lost in thought. I'd bet good money that Justin's Pokemon would have rather been with Louis than speaking to an assortment of Nurse Joys, no offense to them. They were great and often not appreciated enough, but a bond was not something you could reproduce on a whim.

Then again, maybe I was wrong. Maybe distance was what they needed. I wouldn't know until I saw Justin's team again.

We continued on our way toward the League's prison, making small talk about Louis' plans for his sanctuary on the way there.

He still needed a name for it.



The bright hospital lights were a bit of a bother for Cecilia, however she would rather sit here than be out in the sun nine times out of ten. Pauline and Emilia had just left, so it was now just her with Chase. His legs lay motionless beneath his hospital blanket, and every few minutes she would see him attempt to discreetly move them. His upper body would squirm, and he would attempt to slowly drag his lower body with it, yet movement did not come. He would keep trying, harder and harder until he'd give up with a swear and apologize for yelling.

It was after one of these outbursts, that Cecilia considered speaking up at last. She'd been largely quiet today, as she was in one of her depressive, self-deprecating moods. Some days, she was learning, like yesterday with Maylene's dad, were better than others in that regard. Perhaps it was because Cecilia had imagined facing down her own so-called 'father' in Oscar's stead to motivate herself, and her hatred of him was far more powerful than any doubt and regret that currently permeated her soul. Thinking back on that day, every time she closed her eyes, Cecilia could not help but remember the brilliant blue that had surged around Maylene. She had heard many times that aura worked outside of Type Energy, yet she'd never expected for it to be her key to seeing color once again.

And she missed seeing colors. When she closed her eyes, she could already barely remember what they looked like.

Maybe once Chase got better and Ri was done being healed, she would ask and see if his was the same. She wasn't going to text Maylene first unless it was to check if she needed help with her father, or to give random advice for dealing with abusive pieces of trash. That girl had a crush on Grace that was growing by the day; the fact that she was so brazen about it right in front of Cecilia's face angered her to no end. It wasn't on purpose, she knew. Maylene was likely blind to her own truth as Cecilia had been until Grace had spoken to her about what being gay was like. Cecilia had watched her girlfriend like a hawk to see if there were any signs of reciprocating the crush, and no alarm bells had gone off. Grace was also utterly clueless: she had always been blind to everyone's love for others but her own. Empath or not, it wasn't like she was peering into people's emotions.

A while ago, she'd given Grace an ultimatum. Look at her emotions without her explicit permission, and their relationship would be over with no second chances available.

Over. That was a terrifying word, now. So much so that Cecilia wasn't sure if that ultimatum still applied today. How much of herself had she left behind when she'd died, for a breech of privacy so deep not to move the needle? Not that she expected Grace to do so, anyway. It was just mortifying to think that she'd changed so much. Too much.

It was just—

Cecilia knew she had grown unhealthily attached, worse than they'd ever been when they realized there had been an issue in the first place. Grace knew as well. It was just easier to ignore, because fixing this would require so much hurt it might as well be impossible. What if Grace picked Maylene over her? She just didn't want to be abandoned. Cold. Alone. Who else would ever love her? Who else would ever understand her? Who else could ever make her feel so warm? So it was, that she found the best move to be to stay quiet and not say anything about Maylene at all, lest the situation blow up and ruin everything.

Speak no evil, as they said. Cecilia supposed that Grace would be 'hear' and Maylene would be 'see' in the equation.

Either way, today was one of the bad days, especially given that Grace wasn't here. The world felt so cold without her.

"You shouldn't exert yourself too much," Cecilia quietly said. "It might hamper your recovery."

Chase smiled— and bitterly. "Right. Right." His shoulders sagged, and he leaned back in the bed. The TV in the top left corner of the room was, for once, not playing the news. He must have switched it to some random Pokemon battling program. People were trying to get back to normal. "Cece, I— my legs—" He choked on his own words and slammed a fist on his bed railings. "Fuck."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you— damn it, I fucking hate that you— you know what, whatever." He threw his hands up. "It was a lie, Cecilia. I'm never walking again. I'm a cripple." Were those tears? No, they weren't there yet, but his eyes were wet to the point that he rubbed them with his arm.

The hurt must have clearly shown on Cecilia's face, because her friend glared at her.

"Don't fucking pity me; this is why I didn't want to tell anyone," he growled. "I hate this. If you're going to tell me that you're sorry, just leave—"

Suddenly, Cecilia found herself on her knees on the side of his bed, grabbing one of his hands so tightly that her wrists hurt. Chase squirmed in his bed, trying to escape her grip, but no matter how hard he pulled, how harshly her arm moved, her hand stayed locked around his, squeezing more the harder he fought.

"Cecilia, what the hell—"

"So what?" she demanded to know.

"Huh?"

"So what? What comes next? What are your next moves?" Each question, she came closer to her friend, yet unlike all the other rubes out there, he actually faced her without flinching. Yes, she thought. Look into my eyes and see me!

"First of all, get off me," he grumbled. The Unovan did so, calmly sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. Chase shook his hand in the air. "Mean grip you've got there. I think I get what you mean. What's the plan to fulfill our oath, right?"

Her confidence evaporated. "I know I'm no longer a Shard— or barely one— but I was hoping that—"

"Oh, shut up," Chase sighed. "Who cares about some magical powers we have in our heads? Ruling is about people. You and I, we're people. Azelf is a concept. The faceless, nameless, soulless fucks who suck out all the wealth out of the Iron Islands without ever stepping foot there to see what they've done aren't people— but— but yeah, I still want to be the Champion."

Cecilia smiled, relieved with the news that they were still halves of a whole. "So what are you going to do? I have a plan of action for my arrival— and a list of objectives I need to achieve within the next five years with me as Champion or at least a member of the Unova Elite Four by the end; able to push policy. Have you given it some thought since waking up?"

Chase blew a raspberry. "You know I'm not one for plans; I'm a man of action, Cece. Action."

Cecilia looked down at him, stuck in his bed. "A man of action who currently is unable to do anything. A man of action who has spent the last few days brooding— and I get it." The rectification was swifter than his coming anger. "I'm sorry about your Abomasnow. A tragedy, what Mars did to him; hopefully you will see him again some day."

He waited for the next sentence. The 'I'm sorry about your legs.'

It didn't come, because she understood him more than anyone else currently alive other than Ri.

He relaxed and nodded.

"If Abomasnow wakes up a few years down the line, I want to have done something," he said. "I want to have progressed and for him to be proud of it. He wanted to be stronger, that was why I caught him, but he supported me, also. Especially after we saw the Iron Islands again."

Cecilia nodded. "Make him proud, Chase." She let the moment pass, watching Chase reminisce.

"Legendaries, I love you." The statement took her aa little aback. She'd only seen Grace say that to her friends in a platonic way. "I hope you get that through that thick skull of yours." As if to mimic her cranial structure, he knocked on his head with his knuckles. "You have people other than Grace to help ya out. No need to look like it's a funeral all the time."

"I just like wearing black," she said.

"I meant your face, but whatever."

She ignored him. "Now, what is, in your opinion, your fastest road to power?" After turning off the TV, she leaned forward in her chair. Cecilia always enjoyed this kind of talk. "Now, when I say power, I don't—"

"You don't mean the Champion, I know." He hummed and started to think. "Could join the army. With the Voice still in my pocket and my skill I could probably climb up the ranks relatively quickly, even if I'd have to find a way to move around."

"But that's not what you care about," she guessed.

"As much as it pains me, I will have to join the system that keeps my people down. If I do it, I want to have a say as fast as possible. Feels less dirty that way."

"How does… Gym Leader of Canalave sound?"

Chase's mouth gaped; his eyes widened, and then he scoffed. "So what, become some fucking Gym Trainer lackey, toil for years and then lead some fucking palace coup?"

Palace coup? He must have read some of the books she got him. Good.

"Byron is old. He turns fifty-three this summer and I doubt he'll go as long as Fantina did," she explained.

"Yeah, and the piece of rusted steel picks his successor. Is he going to pick the poor sod from the Iron Island who wants to burn the system down, or meat puppet number twenty-three who'll continue not to rock the boat?"

Cecilia chuckled, a surprise to even herself. "Rule is never so easy. You still see him as a caricature; black and white without any depth."

Chase rolled his eyes. "Come on, Cecilia. He's an accomplice to oppression. In fact, he's not just an accomplice, he fucking puts a nice stamp on it every day and says, 'why yes, Teracore!'" He took in a faux-happiness and clasped his cheeks with his hands. "'Please continue fuck my people in the ass and I'll watch and cheer you on from the side!' Give me a break; he's pathetic."

She wrinkled her nose at the crude remark.

"Yes." Cecilia thought back to a certain Unovan currently in League custody and dug her nails into her seat. "Yet even the worst of villains have substance to them." Legendaries, it pained her to say this. Literally. As if her throat was on fire. Luckily it was less intense than when she'd tried to use the Voice twice in a day, so she did not let it show. "He's not doing this because he wants to—"

"Yadda, yadda, power comes with its limitations, I know." He irritatingly waved a hand and adjusted his seating position, lifting himself by the arms. "I'm saying I don't give a fuck and that it doesn't matter to me." A short silence settled in, and he looked up at the ceiling as if to think. "But I was thinking."

"Thinking?"

His eyes lit up with a sudden brilliance, widening as if a spark had ignited within them and was growing brighter and brighter. "I like this idea. Lets me get right in the thick of things, and it gives me an opportunity to clean the shit out of Byron's ear if he still has a soul. Get some work done early."

She leaned forward, and the motion nearly had her fall off her chair. "Tell me what you're going to do."

"I'm not going to hand in my application and go for a round of interviews. I'm going to battle him."

His answer rang out throughout the hospital room, swallowing the constant beeping of the heart monitor and the chatter outside for a moment.

She waited for further explanation, but that was it. "...you would lose," she declared without a shadow of a doubt. They were good, yes, but not good enough to win in a five against six. The only training he'd done with his Wimpod was endurance and movement-based, some of which she'd seen during their time in the Iron Islands, and there was no way the little bug would ever be up to par. From the passionate way he'd spoken, he had meant the battle would be soon, as in, when the Gym Battle opened again soon. "Without Abomasnow, you cannot win. Byron is not the kind of man who will go soft because of your contributions to taking down Galactic—"

"Fuck no, he isn't, and that's a good thing," he retorted, fists clenched. "And yeah, maybe I'll lose, but if I did, that wouldn't bother me much. Who gives a fuck about some badge? It was never about the badges for me. Fucking trinkets. If I do this right, I'll win in every way that matters, Cecilia," he said, grinning like a madman. "I'll talk to him right there, man to man. Think about it. Think about how I'll fucking expose him in public."

Cece scoffed. "So what, are you going to list statistics about poverty and harsh living conditions in the middle of a fight? I doubt it's something he doesn't already know, and if you're going for a PR angle—"

"Bah, even I don't know the stats. You don't need stats to prove what you see with your fucking eyes every day." Cecilia decided to ignore that dangerous line of thinking. "When I say I'll speak to him through battle, I mean it."

That fire within him; the flame of ambition; so bright Cecilia felt it sear the edges of her skin. They'd all had it, once.

It looked like Chase had been the first one to reignite it.

"When the day comes," he said, "I want you to be the one to push my wheelchair up there. I mean I could probably use my hands and the ramp they got on the side, but—"

Cecilia steeled herself. "Of course, I will."

He smiled. "Thanks, pal."



Shuffling into Sinnoh's highest security prison, as it turned out, took time. The building looked a lot more boring than I figured it would. From the outside, it appeared as a nondescript, concrete monolith nestled in a remote corner of the island. We'd had to travel by a lonely road for forty minutes to get here on foot, which didn't sound like long but had my feet numb by the end. It had been a lot easier to ignore my legs and feet hurting when the fate of the world hung in the balance. Tomorrow for sure, I'd start running. Didn't I have Chase's personalized workout plan he'd given me for my birthday crumpled in my bag somewhere? I was pretty certain I'd lost it; maybe Maylene could be of help to get me fit again if she wasn't too busy with work. Wouldn't that be fun? I missed good old fun. I wished I could just remember how to do and enjoy goofy stuff without putting up a façade for my kids. Actually, Maylene was busy helping in Snowpoint today, but she'd left Lucario, Medicham and Machamp— who she had gotten back this morning— to watch the Gym. She didn't know which Gym Trainers to trust right now, so her Pokemon were needed to keep watch.

But I was getting sidetracked.

So, the prison. Gray concrete blocks stacked on top of each other. The walls around the prison stretched high into the sky, crowned with coils of barbed wire that glinted dully in the sparse sunlight. There were guards all around, of course, either in towers, flying on Pokemon or patrolling. We'd been stopped by many League officers on the way here until we'd given the visitor slip afforded to us by Commander Frazier because civilians weren't allowed this close, and now we had a high-ranking League Trainer whose name I didn't catch leading us to the gates. We'd crossed a sign a few miles back warning that anyone caught beyond this point who was not authorized could be met with lethal force, which Louis was nervous about even though we had the right to be here.

The guard at the entrance checked our identification thoroughly and analyzed our minds with a Mr. Mime before allowing us to pass through the heavy iron gate. One of the ones personally trained by Lucian's who helped create barriers in the higher rounds of the Conference. The psychic was very intrigued at my brain and decided to delve deeper until she was struck by a sudden headache and— was knocked back into an invisible wall?

"Knock it off," the guard said. "Don't mind her, she's one for theatrics."

I heard Mesprit giggle in the back of my mind. The headache was real, though!

Please don't give Pokemon doing their jobs random headaches, I thought.

Hmph. Whatever, just go and see Natalia already! I want to see how she's doing! I wish you were visiting her today!

Ugh, they were so whiny at times. The gate creaked open, revealing the barren, gravel-covered courtyard ahead of us. It was actually disturbing, how all vegetation had bled away, leaving only desolation. The crunch of stones underfoot was the only sound in the oppressive silence. Towers rose from the earth, each one containing at least one Kadabra and Trainer standing guard. Reaching the main building, I was met by another guard who led me to a small, sterile waiting room. There, I had to sign a visitor log and surrender my belongings, which were placed in a secure locker. That meant that our Pokemon also had to be put away, including Mimi. The steel type hated their Pokeball, but there was only so much I could bend the rules to my favor. The room was dark and dreary; heavy enough to be uncomfortable, especially when we started ambling through the cell hall to our destination. This place was where I expected so many stories to meet their death knell, and yet it was just so empty of everything that was human, as if everything and everyone had resigned themselves to the end of their tale.

The entire hallway was clad in nondescript white, along with bright lights that hurt to look at for too long, as if being uncomfortable was the point. As if an extended stay here was supposed to have you return to a blank slate. The cells were covered up by reinforced glass, allowing us to glance at many of the Team Galactic members who had been captured alive in Coronet. Their rooms were utterly barren. From the moment one stepped inside, it was as if reality itself had been stripped away. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all a blinding, sterile white, reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights that buzzed incessantly overhead. There were no windows, no breaks in the monotonous expanse of color— just an endless sea of white that seemed to stretch on forever. The only way for the prisoners to know what time of the day it was was when their food was delivered to them, but even then they'd still lose track of how many days had passed eventually. There would be no break in the monotony, ever.

It was a prison designed to break your mind.

Most of the Galactic grunts were not broken, however. They actually seemed in alright spirits, and I attributed that to the fact that one, they probably still believed Cyrus would come save them at some point; two, they had only been there for a few days.

"There she is," the guard who was leading us said. "Inmate 58." He twisted a handle next to the prison cell, and part of the glass wall slid away as if it was a window. "Louis Bianchi, follow me to inmate 72."

I pulled on Louis' sleeve before he could go. "Good luck with Harvey."

His face grew grim. "I've wanted a conversation with my father for a long time. I won't let it slip past my fingers."

Louis left with the guard, and I turned toward the inmate. Not Natalia— I was going to speak to her later today— but Clara, named Grace Pastel the fourth by Mars. Just like Cecilia had said, she looked very similar to me. Her face was a little longer, her hair a little more golden; she had fewer freckles, but they were spread out throughout her face more than mine, which were mostly on my cheeks and the bridge of my nose. I wouldn't go as far as to call her my doppleganger, but I could understand why Mars had gone after her to cope with the fact that she couldn't get me.

This poor girl. She'd been burned too, enough for the left side of her face and neck to scar like mine. The white prisoner's uniform she was wearing was covering too much to see if the burns extended further, but I knew Mars wouldn't have spared her the pain if it meant she could be more like me.

Her look of disbelief at my presence bled away, leaving a glare hateful enough to kill in its place. Had someone else ever looked at me like this? Not even Saturn's gaze had been this hateful.

I'd expected this. This hatred. From her perspective, I'd been the main cause of all of her issues. If I'd never been involved with Team Galactic in the first place; if Mars had never grown obsessed with me because of my weakness, then my similarity to her; if I hadn't hurt Maylene and others and given Mars a reason to think we were similar; if I had died at the power plant at Valley Windworks; if I had died in Solaceon; if I had died in the raid on Backlot's mansion—

If, if, if. You'd never run out if you kept thinking back. So many actions of my doing had only increased Mars' obsession with me that they'd directly led into this girl and three of her predecessors being tortured physically and mentally for months on end.

It honestly did not hurt nearly as much as I thought it would. Not because I wasn't concerned about her; I was just too exhausted to care.

"Clara—"

She shot up from her bed. "You." She stomped her way toward me, her body so full of hate she bumped her head into the glass. "You fucking show up here? After everything?"

I sighed. From the way Cecilia had described her, she'd been rather meek—

Clara laughed, throwing her hands up. "Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I'm boring perfect little Grace Pastel. Maybe if you hate it so much here you should go out and enjoy your freedom so I never have to see— to think about you again."

No sighing. Okay. Another attempt. "Look, I'm sorry I—"

"Oh, you're sorry now, are you? I should be out here, and you should be in here." Her voice was so full of hate— of vitriol that spittle landed on the glass between us. "See how you like it, to have your Pokemon, your dreams and your individuality taken away from you." She gripped at her uniform, where the number 58 had been embroidered in black. "No one calls me by my name here. I do nothing all day, and they won't tell me what they did with Musharna! My parents don't even know I was arrested and that I'm in prison, and even if they did, they wouldn't be able to visit! This is all on you! Fuck you."

Her breaths were ragged, her chest rising up and down as if she'd just gone on a run. She was waiting, I knew. Waiting for a reaction. She had built up an image of me for months in her head. Most likely, Clara had played out this argument within her own mind more times than she could count. I did not blame her. Hate was a very good vehicle to fuel you during trying times. You needed something to keep yourself going; I'd been the easiest target to go after.

Yeah.

I looked up at her, tired and weary. "Did that feel good?"

"You think you're so above me, aren't you? Like I don't even deserve your attention," she hatefully spat. Rarely had I heard someone speak with so much venom in their tone. "Like you're better than me because I'm mad. I deserve to be mad— I—" she shrieked and tore at her hair.

It had been a genuine question to figure out if we were going to be able to speak any time soon. If she needed more hate, I'd let her hate me. No matter how much she berated me, I'd be there at the end to have a talk.

But the answer was no, then.

"Okay," I said, emotionless.

So I let her scream at me for Arceus knows how long. At some point, she was just threatening to kill me or calling me names. Bitch. Attention whore. Whatever, honestly.

I wanted to close my eyes.

I wanted to see Cece.



"Is this it, then?" Louis asked. "Are you just going to be a child and ignore me?"

Louis' father, Harvey Bianchi, had been in this cell for months. He had lost a bit of weight, but what was most striking was that defeated look in his eyes. He remained here, a shadow of his former self, with neither ambition nor greed to drive him. He had schemed for years, growing richer and richer, and he had forced his hand too much and paid for it.

Now, all that remained was a husk. Louis figured that they were similar, in this way. When they realized all was lost, they grew nonresponsive. Like Louis when he had heard the world might end, his father sat on the side of his bed, his eyes downcast and his hands set on his thighs. Sometimes, he would mumble. Others, his body would tense and he'd close his eyes and shake his head, as if to chase away his own inner demons.

All that time, Louis had wanted to speak to him one last time. One final conversation before he turned that page on that part of his life. The part with the version of him he despised more every day, with the sleaziness, the ego, the cluelessness, the fake friends and girlfriends. It had all been his father's doing. He alone had molded Louis into an easy to manipulate man so he could further his father's goals. Louis shook his head and laughed dryly.

"I just wanted to know why it had to be this way," Louis whispered. "I just wanted to know if you ever loved me, but you can't even give me that. You couldn't even stay strong enough to wait to speak to me." Feeling rage bubble up inside of him, Louis hit the glass with his fist so hard the pain from the impact spread throughout his arm. "I know you're capable of speaking. They told me you're allowed to speak to your lawyers and they come back once a week!" he yelled. "You're a pathetic, miserable excuse of a human being. I'm ashamed of being your son."

He turned to walk away—

"...did it…you…"

Louis' head whirled to the side so quickly his neck hurt. He scrambled back close to the glass, ashamed to still be so desperate for a word from his father, yet unable to resist the prospect of a conversation.

"What?" he asked, no; he demanded.

"I did it for you," Harvey said. "I needed to set you up for success, son. Mark Obel is the Champion of Unova and Cecilia was not going to inherit the position of CEO. It was going to go to you, we just needed…"

Ah. And then he would have had an easy to control CEO at the helm of one of the largest companies in the world.

Louis tuned him out.

Even now, he was obsessed with business. His eyes had some life in them now, as if he was daydreaming of what could have been.

They'd lit up now, but not when seeing Louis again for the first time in months.

He had never loved him.

Louis walked away less hurt than he thought he would be by that revelation.



Clara was on her knees, now, softly hitting the glass with her fist where my face was. She was utterly exhausted, yet when I looked at her, I still only saw more hatred. If I used my empathy, I would be certain, yet just looking at her face was enough to see. Tears were not enough to hide herself behind.

"Why?" Clara sobbed. "Why are you just taking it?!"

Alas, she had failed to get me to fight back. Clara had thrown herself against a wall and crumpled to the floor a crying, sobbing mess.

"Because I wanted you to do this until you were satisfied," I softly said. "Is it enough, now? I'll wait as long as you need—"

"That's not—" she inhaled, sobbing, "what I want."

"I'm afraid I can't fit the mold you have given me. I am sorry," I said, bowing my head slightly. "I thought that you would be satisfied once you hated me enough. Can I talk, now?"

"N—" she couldn't say no. She was too intrigued by what I was about to say. Clara took a deep breath, stood up and put her back to the glass. "Whatever."

"It is my understanding that you helped Cecilia and Maeve ascend up the mountain. Without your guidance, there's a chance they might have been too late to save the world."

She didn't respond, which I found strange. Didn't she see where this was going?

"I'm saying that you contributed to the effort to save His creation," I pressed. "I think I can vouch for you and— and get you out of here at some point."

Again, she said nothing, but her shoulders grew stiff and her next breath was a shaky one. I knew that bodily motion anywhere. Excitement. Hope. I understood a little better, now. Clara didn't want to tell herself that she was accepting help from the girl who had from her point of view caused so much of her suffering. To some extent, I felt like I'd be the same.

"Of course, it'd probably still take some time. You'd have to be assessed mentally and get some deprogramming done so they're sure you're free from the cult's influence— and again, that's just what the League would want, not me," I quickly spoke before she could blow up at me. "I think I could find out what happened to your Musharna, but odds are she's just in her Pokeball being held until they figure out what to do with her. I have a lot of influence here." I caressed the glass with my finger. An idle motion. "I could stop that and allow her to remain to you. I could bring you, uh, books, or comics, or snacks and other small-scale stuff if you need it. I'm allowed to visit here whenever I want, and I plan on coming back soon to see someone else. I could come back…" I wasn't ready to commit to once a day yet, so I gave it some thought. "Once every two days to bring you something. And tell you what's going out on the outside."

"And what," she started, crossing her arms, "do you want in return?"

I blinked, slightly confused. "For you to say yes?"

"What?"

"I— I'm just waiting for you to agree to this," I said. "Is it okay?"

"Wha—" She finally turned my way again. "Why wouldn't it be okay?"

"Because it's me asking you this?" If it hadn't worked, I would have sent Cecilia instead tomorrow. This only felt more appropriate. "You hate me. You could say no."

"I literally do not care. Mars could have walked down this hallway and proposed the same deal and I would have taken it…" she trailed off. "Maybe— maybe not Mars. Jupiter."

There were steps to my left. Louis was coming back. "Okay, I'll let Commander Frazier know about this. Your life should change significantly from tomorrow on, so just hold on, okay?"

"O—okay. Thanks. I guess."

With Louis now here, the conversation ended pretty quickly. I bid my goodbyes to Clara and we shuffled back to the locker room. My heart felt a little lighter when I told Louis about how things had gone.

"What about the other girl?" Louis asked. "Natalia, right?"

While Louis didn't know exactly what had gone on in Coronet or the Distortion World, I'd seen it fit to explain Mars' origins. Emi and Pauline knew as well.

On my tiptoes, I opened my locker and grabbed my Pokeballs and backpack. "I would have visited her, but Cynthia wants to assess her… way of thinking first."

"I see. And what's the goal with her? Do you want her out, too?" Louis closed his locker and began clipping his Pokeballs to his trainer belt. "If I were you I'd want nothing to do with her."

"I don't know," I slowly answered. "I guess I'll have to see for myself."

Two minutes later, we were on our way out.



The rest of the afternoon had gone by at a Slugma's pace, as it usually did when I ran out of things to do. Mimi was out of their ball again and out and about, exploring the condo at their leisure— under Jellicent's supervision, of course. The water type was getting better at multitasking his true other selves, not just his Night Shades. A tiny piece of him hovered next to the couch I was playing dead on, whispering to me about either Mimi's whereabouts or interesting history tidbits from his book. The other two were either playing babysitter or reading.

I'd be able to get the next batch of my family pretty soon. Sweetheart, Honey and Cass were going to finish getting healed within the next few days, but the others would need more time.

I tossed and turned on the couch, never quite finding a comfortable position. Occasionally I'd get an alert from my phone that I'd forget to check because I just had no energy, but at least it was something. If I hadn't had to go to the bathroom, eat and the hotel had been cut off from the outside world, maybe I'd just lay here and let the days pass. Maybe weeks. Months?

"I can't think like this." I sighed and sat upright, tapping my feet against the cold, smooth floor. "What else is there to do? More research on Pokemon Rights, maybe…"

Or I could text Cece. It was nearly six in the evening and she wasn't back yet. Was she busy?

You - Hey baby.

You - When are you coming back to the hotel? I want to see you.

Damn it. I clicked my tongue and quickly added something else before she could type her response.

You - You don't have to feel obligated to come. If you can't, don't worry about it.

Cece - I'm with Chase talking about future plans. I spent the day with him.

'Future plans' was vague, but I wasn't too bothered about it. The next speech bubble formed; my heart hammered in my chest and my hands clammed up when I awaited her response.

Cece - I can come back. We were going to finish soon.

I gasped in relief and kicked my feet.

You - See you soon <3

Happiness had permeated through me already. I found it so much easier to get up and get the place in order. We had some dirty clothes lying around— some of which I threw in the laundry. Plates and cups which had been littering, I put in the dishwasher, and I opened the windows to cycle some air through the place, allowing the setting sun to filter through. I hadn't even realized how much time flew by by the time I heard the door click open before I could get started on dinner.

I took a peek from behind a wall and grinned. "You look like you had a good time." She wasn't smiling or anything— ah, well, she was now, but it was more about how she carried herself. She was a lot more… relaxed, but not too much like when she attacked Oscar.

"Chase and I had a very productive conversation," she said, carefully taking off her shoes.

"Hm? About?"

"He asked me to keep a lid on it for now. Though he told me he apologized for what he said to you. About how you figured out his legs weren't going to get better."

So he had told her. Good; the sooner the truth came out, the more united we'd be to get through this. It was hypocritical of me given that they still didn't know the full extent of what had happened— and outside of Chase, they would never know— but that was entirely different. The apology was welcomed, too. At least I knew he hadn't really meant what he'd said.

I wrapped my arms around Cece and placed my head on her chest, tucking my head right under her chin. One of her hands came up to stroke my hair.

"What's wrong? Did Clara refuse your offer?" Cece asked once the hug continued for longer than usual.

"She didn't, it was just… hard. I'm just recharging. You're my charger." I inhaled loudly, and we both laughed. "What? You smell good!" I giggled. "I love you. I—I need you."

Her heart skipped a beat.

I looked up at her; I could feel her breath on my lips. Before she died, she would have kissed me right then and there, but I guess I had to take the lead because she wasn't sure of herself. I only had to stand on my tiptoes and—

The ringing phone didn't have to interrupt our kiss, but Cecilia instantly felt off the moment she heard it, like she wasn't into it as much anymore andshe was preoccupied by something else. I should have put the damn thing on silent like I usually did, but I'd turned on alerts to get a break from how monotonous the day had been.

It was a message from Mallory Ryan, asking me to meet tonight and saying that this would be her last and final offer. I quickly explained the situation to Cece.

"Oh. I see," she nervously said.

"Damn it," I sighed. "This is like an ambush."

She was flipping the table and seeing if I wanted this meeting as much as her. To see how committed I was to the cause after our argument after my interview. She'd even offered to send a Teleporter herself— rich people like her often hired psychic trainers for their small-scale travel, though I knew there was a bill currently passing through the Directorate to draft those people and Pokemon while help from Indigo got here.

"Guess I didn't give her enough credit," I slowly said before staring back at Cece. "Should I—"

"You should," Cece said. "Of course, you should."

"Yeah." My shoulders sagged. "I should."

It was time to face the music.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap
 
Last edited:
Chapter 320
CHAPTER 320

Getting to the address Mallory Ryan had provided me had been tough. First I'd needed to catch a ride from a Kadabra, and to get one as soon as possible, I asked to be sent to Sunyshore. It was easier to get one the less distance I had to travel, given that it took less energy of them and they could get back to whatever they'd been doing at the League quicker. Had I not been privileged after saving the world, this single step would have been impossible.

The reason it was necessary, however, was because the Lily of the Valley Island was still on lockdown. Mallory sending one of the Teleporters on her payroll wasn't allowed; they would instantly get pinged by one of the many other psychics keeping track of every inch of the island, and as it stood, the League was still in 'attack first and ask questions later' mode. The Kadabra had brought me to one of the Pokemon Centers— this one close to the boardwalk. Ten minutes away from here, the destruction Team Galactic had brought would be on full display. Inside were many trainers and their Pokemon in lower spirits than usual. There wasn't much to be happy about these days. I'd had no time to get dressed properly, so I was still wearing my usual t-shirt and jeans; I had thrown a hoodie on top to hide my face while needing to hide my presence in Sunyshore.

Moments later appeared a Pokemon I'd never seen before, yet I knew littered the caves of Unova and once Orre, occupying similar niches as the Zubat line. His body was covered in soft, velvety fur, primarily a deep shade of cobalt blue, and the glow of his heart-shaped nose faded in line with his powers. The second I saw the Swoobat quietly pop into existence in the sky above the Pokemon center, I knew he had come for me, so I gestured and waved until I was spotted. One could rarely mistake such purpose in a being's eyes. The flying type glided down toward me, nearly bumping into the Pokemon Center's Pokeball sign glowing faintly in the night in the process; he was quite the clumsy flier, I noticed, but it looked like he could at least Teleport properly. I scanned the surroundings looking for a trainer, but found none. Swoobat had come alone.

MY APOLOGIES, HONORED ONE, Swoobat spoke— yelled telepathically. I'd never heard a psychic be so loud. The closest to this was Jasmine's Metagross. I AM HERE TO TELEPORT YOU TO JUBILIFE. I HAVE BEEN INSTRUCTED TO… he trailed off. UH OH. WHAT HAVE I BEEN INTRUCTED TO DO AGAIN? RIGHT! RIIIIIIGHT! TO TELL YOU THAT IF YOU WISHED TO TURN BACK, NOW WAS THE TIME! THIS IS YOUR FINAL OPPORTUNITY! The bat heartily flapped his wings, as if he had not told me the most ominous thing he could have said before this tense meeting.

It did make me hesitate a little bit. I didn't think Mallory would do anything drastic like attack me, or whatever— and if the impossible happened and she somehow did this, Buddy would wipe the floor with anyone she could bring— but I did think she was the kind to make a social situation as uncomfortable as possible, which would possibly lead into an argument.

And arguments… well, when I had one with Maylene's dad I defaulted to trying to kill him.

Still, I was not deterred.

"Can we just hurry? I don't want to be seen," I said, pulling the top of my hood down. The longer I stood around here, the more likely this became, especially with Swoobat being such a bad flier attracting attention.

Swoobat grinned, revealing sharp teeth. I'M GLAD. I AM INTRIGUED IN YOU, HONORED ONE. YOU CAN UNDERSTAND US, AFTER ALL— he bumped into a passerby, who told me to watch it as if Swoobat was my Pokemon. YOU WATCH IT! Swoobat hissed, throwing out a few vocal insults. Hearing my transporter calling someone's mother a whore had not been on my bingo card for tonight. AS I WAS SAYING, YOUR CAPABILITY TO UNDERSTAND MY KIND IS OF GREAT INTEREST TO ME AND MY PARTNER! NOW, LET US BE ON OUR WAY!

By the time we finished that sentence, we were somewhere else. I was greeted by high ceilings adorned with an elegant chandelier that cast a warm, golden light over the intricate wooden flooring. Not very unique as far as decorations went, but it made me feel like I was in another world. This place was even more luxurious than the condo Cece and I were staying in and I immediately felt underdressed. Swoobat dropped to the ground and decided to hop forward instead of flying around, possibly out of fear of breaking something, and he told me to follow.

Jazz music that Swoobat hummed to softly played throughout the apartment as he led me forward. Each room I passed by or through was the apex of what money could bring you in Jubilife. It was as if every detail in the apartment, from the recessed lighting to the rich wood flooring, to each extravagant painting that looked like it had been plucked out of a modern art museum, had been meticulously chosen to appear as opulent as possible. There were a few security cameras in corners, which was not ideal; I was being recorded. Sometimes I'd catch a glance of a window, each with its own stunning view of the city that would have made Cece stare for hours. This must have been one of Mallory's apartments; she had a few in Veilstone, but one here, which she picked as our place of meeting. As Sinnoh's most famous and popular news anchor, she could afford it. I knew that this wouldn't have made most of my friends even turn their heads, though.

But I was led into… not a living room, but something akin to it.

WELCOME TO THE ROOM WHERE MANY CONVERSATIONS WHILE BROODING OVER THE CITYSCAPE CAN TAKE PLACE! Swoobat said, sweeping the place with his wing. AN ACTIVITY RICH HUMANS ARE VERY VERY VERY FOND OF!

The two who caught my eye— because there were two people here— were Mallory and an old man slightly hunched over. Mallory, as usual, had her short, dark brown pixiecut. She sat on a couch in a fancy glittering dark blue one-piece dress with her legs crossed as she sipped on some white wine. There was another couch free, facing the same massive window Mallory was, but the man was standing. He stood slightly taller than Denzel, draped in flowing robes of muted brown with a golden cloak draped around his shoulders and a tall, cumbersome-looking hat. A thick, white beard flowed down to his neck, hiding the lower part of his mouth, and he had a large, round nose with a twinge of red from irritation. Swoobat hopped toward him like an excited child, forgetting his quest to not knock anything over. He bumped into a counter and the couch before reaching his apparent trainer, who lowered himself with a tired grunt carrying the weight of aching bones to scratch the flying type's neck.

"Ah, Grace! The girl of the hour!" Mallory had turned my way, her smile mildly unsettling. "Come, come, sit!" She motioned me her way, and I hesitantly followed. "Thank you for taking me up on my offer. I know I didn't make it easy for you, but the topic we're about is important, don't you think? Do you want anything to drink? I have water or juice. Soft drinks, too."

"No thanks," I dryly responded, plopping myself down on the free couch. The city unfolded below me like a tapestry, and I could hear its sound faintly reaching the window; the occasional honking of a car or someone yelling. "Wait, where are my manners. Um," I quickly shot back up and faced the older man. "I'm—"

"Grace Pastel, yes," he interrupted, then slowly gestured toward Mallory. His voice was gentle, yet stern. Weathered, perhaps, yet it was clear that he spoke with purpose as well. He carried with him an accent reminiscent of Cece's before she'd absorbed Sinnoh's way of speaking. "I've heard many stories about you from our dear benefactor."

Mallory laughed, a sultry and admittedly pleasant sound. "You flatter me, Rood." Then, she turned my way. "Rood was originally here to thank me for one of my donations to their political party— my largest to date, but he jumped at the occasion to meet you once I said you would visit. He even extended his stay!"

Swoobat snorted unpleasantly and glared. The old man stroked his beard in contemplation, and I honed in on his displeasure instantly. He had been either caught off-guard by this, or did not want me to know about the circumstances of his visit, or both. Maybe he wanted me to feel more important than I already was. Flatter was one of the many keys to get what you wanted from someone.

"As I said, I'd heard about many of your feats," the so-called Rood said. "Ah, but I forget myself. My name is Rood Vaughan, and I am a Sage of the Plasma Organization. Think of it as one of their guides or leaders. It is a pleasure to meet you."

He outstretched his hand, and I shook it. The grip was weak, yet I felt a jolt of electricity up my arm. His skin was dry and wrinkly. Now that he faced me, I noticed the emblem on his chest, tying the golden cloak together around his shoulders. A black and white shield with a blue 'P' and 'Z' linked together.

It hit me all at once.

They wanted something from me, and the knives were out. They wanted to use me, perhaps each for a different goal, and I wanted to use them as well. This wasn't just a conversation, this was a fight for my survival in the mud. There was a tingle in my hands, the need to clench at something; a subtle sharpening of my senses; the hair on my neck and arms stood on end and I gulped.

Here, for a moment.

Here, at one of the highest points of Jubilife.

I found a story. I found purpose. I was alive again! This was a battle; there were three sides to it, and I was the only one blind to its ramifications. My back was against the wall. Mallory had the power to leak this and ruin my relationship with Poketch. If it had only been her, I could have escaped with only a flesh wound, but now with one of the leaders of Plasma in the room if this got out I would lay not only defeated, but dead. A corpse bleeding out on the floor, beaten by her betters. Those had to be the stakes. They had to be, because then I could actually feel this fire in my heart. The prickling sensation along my skin; the sweat building up on my palms; the rush of adrenaline; the realization that I was utterly outplayed and cornered. These were the drums of war, of blood and iron, and by the Legendaries, I had missed its rhythm.

Finally. My worries had been confirmed. I was a weapon. Conflict drove me. Conflict meant a story with me at its center. A story meant purpose. Purpose was to me now as oxygen was to my body. No, it was worse. So bad you could get drunk on it.

But I could not get ahead of myself. The Sharpedo were circling, and the ambush I'd been led into had left me bleeding. I had lost the first engagement before even knowing there was going to be a fight in the first place.

"You could have met Zinzolin too, but I'm afraid he had to make himself scarce yesterday when Sinnoh's airspace opened again. A shame that he left, really," Mallory continued with a threatening smile. "I truly apologize for not being able to warn you about Rood's presence. I am aware this puts you in a bind."

So they truly weren't on the same side, somehow. There was a conflict of interest, and I was the only one blind to it. Not wanting to be out of my depth, I nodded and decided to go on the attack. "I would have liked a warning. And you know what, can I take you up on that drink offer?"

Her stare sharpened. Did she think me a fool, to gloat and bare her ill will toward Rood right in front of me? Her smile softened, and she uncrossed her legs. "What do you want?"

I couldn't overplay my hand. "Just some tea, if you have some? I've become a big fan over the last few months— any tea is fine." I did like tea, but the water reaching a boiling point meant the kettle would make some noise. I'd be able to figure out when she was done. If she took too long to come back, I'd know she was trying to eavesdrop, and water took a bit to boil. Plus, I had a good view of the way toward the kitchen.

Accepting her first loss, Mallory got up and calmly walked toward her kitchen. The size of her apartment would play in my favor here, but I couldn't rest on my laurels just yet. Mallory, I knew a little about. I knew she wanted to abolish trainers; I knew she represented the biggest extremes of Plasma; I knew she was genuinely interested in me, and so while she would step on my toes, she wouldn't try to sabotage these talks to the point of getting me to leave. Blackmail and threats were just that, an idea of what could go wrong. If I fucked up, she would use it, but she wouldn't just throw me under the bus for no reason. She'd have to be certain there would be no avenues to cooperate with me.

Rood was a blank slate, one whose blade has still not been dirtied from the battle. The old man had stayed quiet after our introduction, content to listen and observe with his hands behind his back while his Swoobat rubbed on the side of his legs in-between joyous snorts. Mallory being gone was my opportunity to figure him out. No doubt the woman thought she'd just listen back to the footage on her own time, which was why she hadn't minded stepping away.

A mistake, in my opinion. It was as if I did the same for a Gym Battle, thinking I'd just watch the video of my loss afterward. Yeah, I'd learn, but I had still lost.

"So," I eagerly began. "What is it that you want from me, Rood?"

"Straight to the point," he said, clearly amused. "As you age, you'll learn to appreciate the scenic route to things."

"I mean, from what I understood, your fellow Sage Zinzolin left before you did, meaning that you're clearly interested." I'd been sitting on the couch with an arm over the armrest, meaning that the wrist Mimi was on was hidden. I quietly tapped them on the side of the couch to wake them up until they shivered in annoyance. "Obviously you've heard that I can talk to and understand Pokemon, as you've said, but what are you hoping to do with that knowledge?"

Rood slowly ambled toward the window, and he observed Jubilife at night. "A wonderful city, don't you think?"

This was clearly leading somewhere. "Yes."

"So small. It is a quaint little city." Finding Jubilife small of all things was something only a Unovan would say. "I have to say, from my time here, Sinnoh is quite the humble region. I have appreciated my stay, even in these dire circumstances. You have my sincere condolences for what these 'Galactic' terrorists have done."

I nodded, taken aback by the warmth in him. "Thanks. I—It's been a tough time for all of us."

He swept his hand toward the city below. "Mallory… Mallory would have us tear all of this down; that is her ultimate goal," he continued. "You would be hard-pressed to find someone in Plasma who would go that far; we simply fight for Pokemon liberation." Swoobat crooned at that word. Liberation. "Mallory has been a staunch ally in the fight for Pokemon, but I fear she loses the forest for the trees sometimes. I am sorry she forced your hand." There was a small smile behind his beard. "But I did not find it fit to stop it. The opportunity here was too interesting to pass and as she likely thinks, the fact that you have not left running as soon as you saw me or the cameras means that this is something you truly believe in. I find that admirable. To be willing to lose much for your goals."

Here were go. I braced myself for the first bout; the moment friendly small talk would turn into a game of pushing and pulling. He let around ten seconds pass, no doubt allowing the pressure to build. Occasionally, he would glance toward the hallway leading to the kitchen.

"Ah, but I need to make sure you are worth your salt, first," Rood said. "A little test for you. Swoobat, if you will."

The bat beamed, happy to help his trainer. With a wink, Swoobat told me that if I wanted to steal anything from Mallory on my way out, he would Teleport it with me. I said no, of course, and quickly relayed the message to Rood, who I assumed got confirmation from the psychic through telepathy.

His eyes widened. "Fascinating. All of my life, I've given to this cause and tried to find like-minded people, yet this is only the second time I've seen someone like you. Someone who can truly hear Pokemon, even if they are strangers."

My nails dug into the couch, but I caught the tic and just hummed nonchalantly, as if I was intrigued and not utterly bewitched by this revelation. He must have wanted to gauge my reaction too, from the beat of silence that he allowed to pass as his gaze washed over me like a thousand needles. I called to Mesprit using my mind, asking if they had anything to do with this— some kind of half shard business they hadn't told me like Chase and Cece.

Nope, the God immediately answered. I've got nothing to do with this, if he's telling the truth! Mesprit snickered, signaling they already knew. You should have used your empathy to tell, Grace! C'mon, get your head in the game! This is the most exciting thing that's happened to you since you've been back from the Distortion World!

Right. Right, he could have been lying. I didn't want to rely on empathy if I could; if possible I wanted to be able to tell what people thought and felt and wanted by just looking at them. Like Gardenia. But given that the stakes were so high, maybe…

Was that a lie? I asked Mesprit.

Well now it's less entertaining if I tell you. Figure it out on your own, if you want to be such a goody two shoes! Hmph!

The whistling of the tea kettle in the distance eventually centered me before I could make my decision.

"Really? That's interesting," I said. "Are they another member of your party—"

"Ah, welcome back, Mallory," he said, facing the nearby hallway.

We heard her steps before we saw her. "I got you camomille," she said, lifting a ceramic cup. She looked frayed, but not beaten. "I hope you like it, I'm not that big on tea. I have to drink at least four coffees a day to survive, though."

When I grabbed the cup and thanked her, a realization hit me like a bucket of cold water while she and Rood continued their small talk about coffee (the old man was convinced it was a vice).

Was this why he'd waited so long? Spoken so slowly? So he would get something out of me, but not me out of him? From how long an answer had taken to come out, he could have easily told that not only I did not know someone else like me, but that I hadn't expected it to be possible in the first place. Yeah, I'd gotten information too— that out there someone else like me existed— but again, it could have been a lie, and even if it wasn't, he had gotten the better deal. Internally, a curse rang in my head. I was rusty. It had been a while since the politicking of Poketch.

A second loss. I couldn't let it get to three. Three felt significant, somehow. As if he'd have too much leverage in the conversation and even Mallory would be able to twist my arm. Remember, this is a story. It would be too obvious to have me lose here; an opportunity would arrive soon. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was insane, but at this point I was too deep into it to care.

I eyed the news anchor, who was also still reeling from her loss. She was far easier to read. Prickly, tense, and using their stupid argument about coffee to feel like she was at least winning something. We all knew this small talk was only a break from the fighting. We'd all traded barbs; now was the time for the second bout.

Taking the lead was a risk, but I had to trust Mallory would catch onto what I was doing.

I blew on my tea a few times. "Smells good." A meaningless filler meant to garner attention, and it worked. Both of my opponents were looking at me, now. "So, Mallory. Tell me how you and Rood met. If that's okay, of course!"

It was an attempt at an olive branch. If she knew any better, she'd take it. It wouldn't be wise to weaken our standing and allow Rood to get out of here as the sole benefactor to this meeting. The potential reward had increased for me now. I needed to know if this second Pokemon whisperer was real, and if they were, I wanted to know more about them. Knowledge was an invaluable.

She lowered her glass of wine and smirked. "Ah, it's been a while, hasn't it, Rood?"

"Certainly."

Mallory explained that she'd always been against trainers even when she'd been a child, and that she'd involved herself in Pokemon Rights organizations as a teenager and young adult. She'd even met her husband through these and forged a wide net of connections with important people all over Sinnoh. This was all information I already knew from Melody, but I pretended to be fascinated by it.

Maybe that was a little too harsh. The story was interesting. She'd done a lot of volunteer work to rehome Pokemon which had been abused or caught against their wills and released in an environment they hadn't been adapted to live in by trainers too lazy to go back to where they'd caught them, too, so she had done a lot of good for the world. I was simply after something else. We were circling the drain, so to speak.

Unfortunately for her, or at least she thought so, her ideals eventually turned too extreme for many of the groups she'd been a part of, so she quickly looked abroad and found a tiny group of like-minded people in Unova.

"I had only just joined at the time," Rood explained. "We were small, only based in Castelia and without much funding. Mallory had already become one of the largest news anchors in Sinnoh and was our second big political donor, you see. Without her, we wouldn't have grown anywhere as large as quickly. For that, she will always have my eternal gratitude." He inclined his head at her.

"Second?" I asked. "Who was the first?"

I caught the twitch in his eye; the way his hand reflexively moved an inch toward his beard, but then stayed flat against his robes. Rood was difficult to read, but was not infallible. I was only growing sharper as the night went on. He had not expected me to ask that question, and normally I wouldn't have. Second just struck me as an odd thing to say. If they'd had a donor beforehand, why had they stayed small? He'd identified them as big, after all. That meant pulling similar numbers to Mallory.

"I'm afraid they desire anonymity," he said. "You have to understand, Grace, that taking our position publicly, while easier than ten, twenty, thirty years ago, is still liable to ruin your reputation."

"Oh, I understand."

One loss for him, then. Minor, but a loss nonetheless. Mallory just had a smug smile, and I didn't know if it was she liked seeing Rood get some egg on his face or if she knew about this donor as well. Our alliance, while tentative, was still holding somewhat, so I decided not to throw her under the bus and ask her about this mysterious donor. She was the one with the cameras, after all. Chitchat about how Plasma struggled in its early days continued for a few minutes until Mallory moved on the attack as soon as I signaled to her with a look.

"I'm sorry to bring this back up, but I do wonder what I missed while I was gone." She brought a finger to the side of her lip. "Grace looked quite shaken; I hope you weren't mistreating our guest, Rood."

Damn it, she was good to have caught on to what I wanted exactly. Crazy, but good, when she focused. She wasn't known to be merciless in her interviews for nothing. Years upon years of experience had been enough to sharpen her tongue enough for it to be lethal. It was a good thing that the beliefs she could barely hold back without a massive media conglomerate breathing down her neck were a weakness of hers. Honestly, the fact that they let her work for them with these views of her was insane to begin with, but maybe she'd grown too important, so they were stuck with her. It wasn't like she aired those in public, anyway.

"Most of it was just small talk, but Rood actually told me about someone else like me earlier," I said. "Someone who could also speak to Pokemon."

"Ah, yes. Them." That was confirmation they were real, especially with how Rood fucking stared daggers at Mallory, which seemed to reinvigorate her. She was a little like Mars, in that way. While a trap was possible, I sincerely doubted they were coordinating this lie. "A wonderful child your exact age that I've heard many good things about, though I have never been allowed to meet them, even with my many visits to Unova." Mallory tapped a finger on her armrest and lounged there like a lazy Glameow. "They're the reason why I was so intrigued by you when you walked up to Veilstone's Gate with that army of Pokemon behind you. You sounded and looked like what I'd heard about them."

Rood was fiddling uncomfortably with his beard. He'd overplayed his hand! Had he thought I'd never ally with Mallory just because she was fucking insane and he'd tried to tarnish her in my eyes while she was gone? And the best part was that he couldn't even say anything about it, lest he give something else away.

"I could never have imagined that you would, in time, become such a brilliant trainer," Mallory said with stars in her eyes. "We need people like you among us."

Well, all good things came to an end, I supposed. "Brilliant trainers? There are many like me; I don't even have my eighth badge." A soft rebuke first, to steer her away. We could still salvage this, even if she had slighted me.

"But how many can speak to Pokemon, and how many are… at least favorable to our cause?" she asked. "And that's not even speaking about your rate of progress. Who knows where you'll be in three months? Six? A year?"

Why did she have to go there? We had Rood on the ropes, and now we were trading blows! "Generally, you slow down the stronger your Pokemon are," I said, echoing Craig's words. "Why do you even need me for?" Back. Off.

"This world is run by strength above all, is it not? In nearly every single country, it is the most powerful trainer that rules, or at least appears to rule." Mallory's jaw clenched in displeasure. "Strength behind your cause is many things. It is respect; it is credibility; it is legitimacy. That is how the world works. The bigger a monopoly on violence you have, the better shot you have at being heard."

I bit the inside of my lip, knowing that she left me no choice. "The world you're describing where I am a weapon for you to use is a fantasy," I hissed. I wanted— needed purpose, but I was not far gone enough to let anyone use me. "I will not be a tool for you to scare people with or worse. I am certain Rood will agree with me."

Mallory's face fell. She'd expected a rebuttal, and maybe had wanted to drive me into a corner, but she hadn't expected me to run back to Rood for support after she'd given me so much information about this other individual like me. I'd essentially backstabbed her, and the look in her eye let me know that she would never help me again. Another loss for her; bad, since she had control of the cameras. I smelled her tea's aroma and circled a tiny spoon in the cup, as if unbothered.

Inclining his head toward me as a sign of gratitude, the Sage spoke. "We have many young and hotheaded people." The importance he'd put on those words, accompanied by a very obvious stare toward Mallory made his intent known. "Passion is good, but I fear the actions some of them could take if the ban passes this summer."

By that, he meant the banning of their political party in parliament. Cecilia had spoken to me about it a bit, and I had done some research on my own with Jellicent's help.

"It will pass, and it will be buried now that the news can only speak about Sinnoh. The establishment fears us." Mallory sneered and took another swig of wine. "We're surging in the polls! Nowhere near enough to be the largest party yet, but we've gone from a tiny irrelevant group to a sizeable voice with amazing ground game and organization. Why would they ban our party if they weren't scared of us? Terrified that we'd keep growing? We were about to break the fucking dam, forgive my language, and they want to put a— a bit of tape over it and bury their heads in the sand!" She wildly gestured.

Rood audibly groaned, so I followed up to keep her talking. Anything to use her rashness as a weapon against herself. Anchoring myself to Rood was the only way I'd make it through the night. "And what does that mean? Breaking the dam."

The news anchor's face burned alight with passion and she uttered a single word. Quiet, yet solid as steel. "Revolution."

I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. Arguing for revolution while she would be watching from an ocean away in her ivory tower, sipping wine and profiting off of it by reporting on it was insane, yet expected from someone like her.

"Enough of that," Rood growled, sounding a decade younger. "I will not allow blood to be spilled in our streets. For innocents and children to die as collateral damage. Violence is never the answer."

Mallory laughed and clapped her hands. "Oh you bleeding heart. Spare me."

"And who, pray tell, do you think will fight this theoretical revolution." He gestured at me. "Trainers will use their Pokemon as tools of violence! This goes exactly against our core beliefs! The very beings you want to save will die by the tens, hundreds of thousands! Maybe millions." His expression grew grim, and a darkened shadow clouded behind his eyes as if he was visualizing it. Swoobat patted his leg with a wing, and some of the tension left Rood, who took a deep breath. "You think we will put the heads of your enemies at the League on pikes, but war is never so self-contained. Innocents would die and be displaced, and in the wild as well."

"Coward," she hatefully spat. "So you would rather let them ban our cause," Mallory countered. "You would rather allow them to stay the course on hundreds of years of oppression than do what is necessary. Allow me to posit you this." She stood up and began to pace, though maintained a piercing glare toward Rood. "It is the Great War. The Kalosion monarchy bans any dissident voice against the war and imprisons anyone who speaks out. Do you know how it ended? With a revolution, the king dead and Kalos out of the war."

"Apples and oranges," he dismissed her with an irritated rasp in his voice. There was a beat of silence passed, heavy even for me. I did not know who'd won the engagement, but I'd give it to Rood. "And what do you think, Grace?"

"I agree that there is a problem," I said. "I just vehemently disagree with what you think is the cure. And that goes for you as well," I told Rood. It was easier to understand their difference, now. Their agendas. Both believed Pokemon Trainers to be endemic to the issue that Pokemon in society were not treated as equals. They disagreed, however, on how to fix that issue. "It's like, you're both acting like Pokemon themselves don't get a say in this."

"A common rebuke," Rood said. "I can assure you, we both know that different Pokemon will have different needs and wants."

"Despite all of this, they are victims who have been brought up in the same society that we have. Many of them think that this is all normal despite—"

Rood softly clicked his tongue, as if to tell her she would find no companion in that line of thinking. Not here, at least. "One cannot deny that ripping away Pokemon from their trainers would be a traumatic experience. Not only would it be impossible without a war we could not win even with all of Unova's resources behind us, but it would be morally wrong." Mallory whispered that they just lacked the will for it. He ignored her. "This is why I argue for a more sensible position. The banning of catching new Pokemon, effective immediately."

Damn it.

He was better than her. He really was. And I was sure I would enjoy speaking to him about many things.

But at the end of the day he was cut of the same cloth. Plasma was no good for me.

"It would allow us decades of leeway to learn how to work with wild Pokemon as equals, along with slowly adapting the state to function without their labor, yet it would not upend society in an apocalyptic manner. It would allow the trainer class to naturally die out over the decades," he continued. "Though I can tell this disappoints you, Grace. A shame."

"Yeah," I just said. When I imagined future generations unable to experience the sheer love I had with my own Pokemon, it filled my chest with so much anger. "Yeah, I think you're both full of shit. And it pains me, because— because you're so close to being— to being workable with, Rood. You seem like such a kind and passionate man at heart."

The man exhaled. "I could say the same. By His Truth, this was such a wasted opportunity. I wish I could understand how you could hear the voice of Pokemon and not think the same as us. Not think the same as them."

Them. That mysterious figure again. Biting my lip, I put my face in my hands and sighed.

"I gotta go to the bathroom. Where is it?" I quickly asked.

"Ah, Swoobat knows," Mallory said. "He can bring you."

"Nonsense. You should trust your guests, Mallory." Rood looked to still be willing to cooperate even though we'd come at an impasse.

That was exactly what I'd hoped for.

I wanted more from this, but first I had to do this test. After Mallory directed me to the nearest bathroom, I left Mimi on the couch in their bracelet form and made my way there. The truth was, I didn't need to go at all. I just needed to see if Rood would stab me in the back and attempt to discredit me, which was why I'd woken up Mimi from their slumber earlier. I allowed two minutes to pass before I flushed a clean toilet and washed my clean hands, then I came back to Rood and Mallory debating poll numbers. The little steel type had no warning for me, so I knew we were in the clear.

Supposedly with the election this October, the Plasma Organization was polling at 14%. That was behind every single mainstream party who I assumed were in the pockets of the corporations, but they were the largest out of the four parties that Cece would call the 'non-establishment'.

Granted, Unova wasn't like Sinnoh. Even 'establishment' parties were a part of the opposition sometimes, and there were a crap ton of parties. I knew of few of their names because Cece would often rant at me about them being beholden to the Conglomerate at the end of the day, even if they all had differing opinions. 14% was actually a huge rise from the paltry 2.3% they'd gotten the previous election, which hadn't even been enough to get any seats in parliament. According to Rood and Mallory, their rise in the polls came in the wake of a series of very public scandals in the Unovan Ranger Corp which were 'worse than usual'. In the Mistralton branch, it was because of the mistreatment of Pokemon in their custody. In the Nacrene Branch, it was due to an aggressive rehoming of Pokemon off the route into a supposed 'Pinwheel Forest' that left many hurt and some dead. A video a nearby trainer (who hadn't been supposed to be here; Rangers had the authority to fully close down areas of a Route in Unova on their own) had filmed had catapulted the story to front-page news.

Well, until a massive rift opened up on top of Coronet, at least.

While I knew there was no way that many people believed in separating trainer and Pokemon, they'd still jumped that high in the polls for whatever reason. I had heard that they were moderating a little publicly, at least, so maybe that was it, but the ban on them would take that out of the picture.

"People always say that it's a few bad apples…" Mallory trailed off with genuine sadness. "Every few weeks, there's an incident that's supposed to be just an exception. They investigate themselves and sometimes fire the culprit or put them in prison, but the entire thing is rotten."

"That, we can agree on," Rood said. "Mark Obel, of all people, will not change anything. He is even worse than cruel, he is a coward who revels in inaction. I never thought I would miss Alder. For all I disagreed with the man, he was better than this."

Silence was my answer. I would not form an opinion on the Rangers until I saw the region for myself; while these incidents had happened, I could not forget that these people were biased. What they were describing was difficult especially when knowing how good Sinnoh's Rangers were in comparison.

I swallowed. We'd traded blows tonight, and I found him to be a very engaging conversationalist. We were opponents, yet like in every battle, it did not mean I could not learn from this. I warmed my hands against the teacup and leaned forward.

"Why don't you tell me about some of the other things you've seen, Rood?" I slowly asked. Unlike Mallory, he could be objective. "I'm afraid that while I desperately want to help Pokemon, I am severely lacking in the knowledge to do anything about it."

Rood stroked his beard, something that I was quickly learning was a soothing gesture for him. "While you may not be a new party member, it would always be good to have someone of your caliber working to help Pokemon. I can see that you are different."

"Because I talk to Pokemon?" I asked.

"No. I see that look in your eyes, young girl. It reminds me of my father's; he fought in the Last War." Few people used that name for the Great War, for obvious reasons. It implied that it would be the last war ever fought, at least officially. "You have seen much horror and hope for good in the world. Perhaps it is what I want to see, but it is what I see nonetheless."

Rood was an optimistic man at his core. I was learning much about him tonight.

"I" I hoped that I was like that as well. Desperately. "Yeah."

"It has been… more than two hours of discussion. I'm afraid that like Zinzolin before me, I will have to leave. I have a flight to catch early tomorrow." Rood chuckled. "I assume that some will be greatly pleased with this."

Mallory was already salivating at the prospect of getting me alone to try to turn me over to her side. "Don't worry, Grace. I have two more Teleporters on payroll that you can use to get back." She'd downed her wine by now, but she enjoyed twirling the empty glass around in her hand.

I had not touched the tea I'd had her make.

Despite wanting to leave as soon as possible now that Rood was gone, Mallory still had the footage, and she knew it. She would be able to twist me into some kind of concession before I could leave in exchange for safety. The good thing was that I hadn't lost too much of my standing in the previous conversation. We'd fought, and I'd come out on top enough times for her to respect me. If I'd mishandled the meeting, she might have forced me into

"Oh, and Mallory," Rood said with a hidden smile. He motioned at one of the cameras in the corner of the room. "Do me a favor and delete all of tonight's footage."

The news anchor nearly fell off her velvet couch. "And why… is that?" she asked, barely containing the surprised rage within.

"You know that I am a private man," he said. "I am not the face of Plasma; I cannot be as outspoken as Zinzolin or Gorm. I fear that I have not behaved as a man worthy of my position as a Sage tonight, with all the arguments and the non-curated narrativesah, but you know how politics go." Swoobat giggled and jumped on his trainer's back. Somehow, as clumsy as he was, he did so gently as to not hurt Rood's back. "Ah, patience, Swoobat. You must take Grace home, first."

"And what if I refu…" Mallory didn't finish that sentence, as if the thought of going against Rood was unimaginable.

I thought I understood it. They could spar verbally all they wanted, debate theory and theoreticals, but at the end of the day, he was one of the leaders of Plasma and she was just a donor. A donor with influence within the party, of course, but a donor nonetheless. If Rood wanted, he could probably cut her off. It wasn't like they were financially dependent on her any longer, and she needed them. They were more important than donations to her, they were her life's purpose.

The old man simply nodded. "Grace, a little conversation, if you will. Swoobat?"

In-between Mallory's outrage, the psychic's nose glowed pink, and he yelled—

Then everything around us went quiet before my hands could even get to my good ear to take out my hearing aid. It had been painful for a fraction of a second. I knew I was within some kind of sound barrier, but it was different than one Cass would make, for example. Less refined, with less of a defined border between the outside and inside.

"This is a favor I am doing you," he said. "Truth be told, while what I said tonight getting out would not be ideal, it would not hamper our goals much. I would never be so careless."

"Then whwhy? Why do this for me?"

He placed a firm hand on my shoulder. "While I am disappointed this meeting is ending this way, I still wanted to analyze your character tonight. To see if you were as bloodthirsty as your so-called 'battling' showed." He scoffed, squeezing my shoulder a tad, and it was now that I'd realized how close to oblivion I'd stepped. He had watched my battles. Of course he had! Why would he not try to learn everything about me? "While I am appalled at what you make your Pokemon and the Pokemon of others go through, I understand that it is… sport for you all, however misguided that may be. One day, hopefully, you too will see the truth."

I responded with a terse nod, not agreeing but being grateful he was giving me this opportunity.

He took his hand off of me and brought them both behind his back. "All I ask is for you to not speak of the other like you to anyone."

I expected more, like an explanation as to why he did not want this person known, but it never came. "Of course. I owe you."

"Thank you, Grace. Tonight, you showed genuine concern for our plea," he continued. "You showed that you do not follow the path of violence in hopes of fixing things. You showed that you have a good head on your shoulders," I could have laughed at that one, "and that you are a smart and good speaker. So I will let Swoobat take you home. Do not worry, Mallory will not do anything rash. She is young and has the temperament of a Hydreigon, but like all of us, there is good in her heart. She is bitter at a world that has refused her at every turn, and it has only radicalized her more. I will handle her with a gentle hand."

"Ththank you, Rood."

The Sage smiled, closing his eyes. "Why don't you head on home, then. Teenagers like you need good sleep, and you look like you haven't gotten any in a week."

My ears popped when Swoobat took down whatever he'd done to contain our voices. Mallory looked to be stewing in anger. I wouldn't hear what they were going to talk about, given that Swoobat was already hopping away. It wasn't until we reached the condo's foyer, where he had Teleported me beforehand, that he spoke up again.

SO, Swoobat wondered. WHAT DID YOU THINK?

I shook my head in disappointment. "I learned a lot, you know. A lot of statistics and horrible, horrible stories that had happy endings because of Rood. His heart is in a good place," a way better place than Mallory's, who just wanted blood and death, "but I still believe he's misguided."

HE THOUGHT YOU MIGHT HAVE COME TO AN AGREEMENT, Swoobat said. HE THOUGHT YOU MIGHT HAVE BEEN LIKE THAT PERSON HE MENTIONED TO YOU. YOUR COUNTERPART. I THOUGHT SO TOO, BUT OH WELL. POBODY'S NERFECT!

I leaned against the wall, staring at one of Mallory's paintings. "Can you tell me more about them?" Then, I raised my hands innocently. "I promise I won't say anything to anyone."

The flying type snorted. YOU'RE GOING TO UNOVA, RIGHT? IF YOU ARE, YOU'RE GOING TO KNOW WHO HE IS VERY SOON— OH CRAP, I REVEALED HIS GENDER! Swoobat jumped around, flapping his wings in a panic. BAH! WHATEVER! YOU'D HAVE FIGURED IT OUT EVENTUALLY. ROOD MADE A CALCULATION WHEN TELLING WHO ABOUT HIS EXISTENCE AND HIS PURPOSE. A GAMBLE THAT IT WOULD GET YOU TO OUR SIDE. YOU BETTER REMEMBER YOUR PROMISE, EVEN IF IT DIDN'T.

"I won't. It's mutually assured… well, it'd be destruction for me, and I assume you guys don't want the world to know he exists yet, or that he's involved with you, so it'd be bad for you too," I guessed. As Rood said, that might ruin his reputation as well, though he still had plausible deniability given that he'd never confirmed this boy to be a part of Plasma, just that he knew him.

WELL HE'LL MAKE A BIG SPLASH, I BETCHA! A BIG SPLASH! Swoobat cackled. Their nose started to glow as they gathered the energy to Teleport. BACK TO SUNYSHORE, I PRESUME?

Before agreeing, I spoke up. "Say, Swoobat. You agree with Rood's ideals wholeheartedly?"

He nodded. YUP!

"Even if it means he'll have to release you if he reaches his goal?"

The bat's concentration wavered for a moment; his wings shivered and he began to cackle wildly until his laugh turned into a snotty-sounding wheeze. SILLY HUMAN! DO YOU THINK I STAY WITH ROOD BECAUSE OF THAT PRISON YOUR KIND CARRIES ON YOUR HIP? He continued speaking in-between coughs, looking at Buddy and Mimi's Pokeballs. I AM WILD, STILL! ROOD'S PLAN DOES NOT MEAN A TOTAL SEPARATION BETWEEN HUMAN AND POKEMON; I WOULD NOT HAVE TO LEAVE HIS SIDE! ONLY WACKOS LIKE ZINZOLIN AND MALLORY BELIEVE IN TOTAL SEGREGATION! WE HOPE TO UNDERMINE THEIR CAUSE EVENTUALLY, BUT WE'RE FORCED TO WORK TOGETHER FOR NOW. UNITED WE STAND, DIVIDED WE FALL AND ALL OF THAT JAZZ. ROOD THINKS TOO WELL OF THEM, HONESTLY. HE SEES GOOD WHERE THERE IS NONE, OR AT LEAST IT WOULD TAKE TOO MUCH WORK TO SQUEEZE IT OUT OF THEM.

Oh. Oh, that made a lot more sense. I disagreed, still, but that was so much more palatable. Still, it was clear from Rood's argument that this would result in so much fewer opportunities for bonds between human and Pokemon to form, and that was in line with his plan. Not because the Pokeball was necessary to that bond (history had shown that wasn't the case; people had been partnering up with Pokemon long before the invention of the first Pokeballs made using apricorns and whatever the hell else). Ignoring the fact that Pokeballs had saved my Pokemon's lives many times, it was his phrasing, which had bothered me. 'Allow the trainer class to naturally die out'. He wanted to phase us out, and from the conversations I'd had with him earlier, he was vehemently anti-battling to the point of believing it to be abusive. Not only my methods of battle, but any battling.

I exhaled in disappointment, remembering that moment. So much for listening to Pokemon; good luck taking battling away from Sweetheart, Princess, Honey or Sunshine.

"To Sunyshore," I said, satisfied.

ALRIGHTY! HERE WE— Their eyes glowed white, and they seized up. Emotional misery encroaches upon you GO!

"Wh—" we were back in Sunyshore, in front of that same Pokemon Center. "—at?" People spared us a glance, as they usually did when people Teleported nearby, but that was it. The cover of night and the hoodie I was wearing helped keep me hidden. "What did you just say?"

WHAT? Swoobat clumsily blew up, knocking himself into a pole. WHADDYAMEAN?

"Was that a joke? Or do you genuinely not remember? You said misery encroaches upon me—"

OH! OH! THOSE. YEAH, I DO THAT SOMETIMES, he yelled. I WOULDN'T WORRY, THAT'S JUST A TIC. I HAVE A GOOD NOSE; I CAN SMELL ONGOING, PAST, OR FUTURE EMOTIONAL TURMOIL SOMETIMES, BUT IT'S NEVER THAT CLEAR, AND I ALWAYS FORGET! LIKE A FLEETING DREAM! IT'S PROBABLY WRONG! ANYWAY, GOTTA DIP! SEE YA!

I blinked, not knowing what to say, and the bat disappeared into the night.

"Way to make me anxious," I muttered to myself. Mimi vibrated against my wrist. "Yeah, hopefully it's nothing. Better be ready for anything, though." I honestly couldn't think of anything that would cause me turmoil in the future now that Galactic was gone, so it was probably what I was feeling now. Melancholy. "Hey, thanks for helping me out in there. You didn't have to." My hand gently caressed the bracelet, who quietly mewled.

I pulled out my phone, texted my contact at the League and sat on a bench on the opposite sidewalk of the Pokemon Center while I waited. Tonight had been full of twists and turns, and honestly, at the beginning of it all, I'd felt like I'd been fighting for my life. I had carved out a space for myself among those two and gotten out with a deal that was as close to optimal as it could have been thanks to Rood.

And honestly? I was sad that it was over.

Something was wrong with me. I didn't exactly care to fix or even acknowledge it, at the moment. I closed my eyes and reimagined the words full of harm, poison and barbed wire, and what I'd done to counter them.

A/N: I usually wouldn't feel the need to do this because I don't like spelling out things for the readers, but here, just in case: reminder that Grace is an unreliable narrator who puts way too much importance on stories because they make her feel alive and help her think during high stakes situation. She is just a teensy weensy bit insane (very insane).

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap
 
Last edited:
Interlude - A Taste of Rule and Forgiveness
INTERLUDE - A TASTE OF RULE AND FORGIVENESS

As it turned out, pushing Chase around on a wheelchair was a very demanding job for Cecilia. For one, he always complained about how sitting permanently meant that he'd be short as hell for the rest of his life and that he'd have to look up at people, a personal pet peeve of his. Having people in front of him cut off his field of vision whenever it got too crowded. He hated the way so many passersby looked down at him with pity in their eyes, probably thinking 'oh, that poor thing! Disabled and so young!' They never said anything, of course. He would have talked their ear off with countless insults if they had, but just that look was enough to piss him off. The fact that Chase still wore some bandages over his shallow burns didn't help. Apparently none of it would scar, save for a spot on his shoulder blade.

He would also complain if she was going too slow. Cecilia thought that it was due to some insecurity about being handled 'softly' due to his new condition, but the honest truth was this was her first time pushing a wheelchair and she didn't want to bump into some poor League Trainer or even worse, a child.

Both of them were technically breaking a rule, at the moment. While Chase had been allowed to go out on his wheelchair, he hadn't been discharged, nor had his doctors allowed him to go this far from the hospital. He kept insisting he was fine and he could do this, however; she had gone through too much with him to doubt Chase now.

She brought him south of the island, stopping at a vantage point once built to observe the League's densest residential zone right around its relatively small port. Cecilia assumed that once upon a time, this place could have been used to observe any enemy force landing on the League's shores. Today, it had been turned into a touristic spot with paid binoculars and a colorful sign explaining the significance of this place to passersby. Cecilia didn't read it, however. She enjoyed guessing how places and their purpose changed throughout the years. The Unovan placed Chase's wheelchair right next to the old-looking stone railing so he could have the best view possible. Even with how cloudy it was, this place was breathtaking.

He wasn't as much of a view nerd as she was, but one would have to be blind not to be taken aback by the beauty of the world unfolding before you. Everything looked so small from up here. The League was growing busier every day, yet they all looked like little ants going about their purpose. She should have brought Grace here. They could have taken a picture— maybe of them kissing above the world.

Cecilia shivered, hugging herself, craving for her like she was some sort of drug. Her leg began to impatiently tap against the ground, as if helping Chase with his issues was a waste of time when she could spend more of it with Grace. The thought disgusted her as soon as it came, and she chased it away with a head shake.

"What, you're cold in this warm ass weather? Is this a ghost thing again?" Chase asked with his usual lack of tact. "I guess there's a bunch of wind."

Cecilia pondered that question for a moment as she observed the bustling port below the stone railing. "I think some of it is," she said. "Some of it is just me, though. Just me."

"Cryptic," he said with a hint of irony. He pushed himself up with his hands to get a better look. "Yeah, I think this is a good spot to leave me in."

Her hand lay to rest on the side of his chair. "Are you sure you'll be able to get back alone?"

Chase shrugged. "Nothing like getting thrown in the sea to learn how to swim."

Cecilia scoffed, and looked at him like he was insane. "That's also a very good way to have you drown." He had been the one with the insane plan for her to bring him in the middle of nowhere so he could practice moving around on his lonesome.

"That's how they do it in the Iron Islands," he explained. "Plus, when you're a baby you automatically know how to hold your breath."

"What? No way."

"Dude, I'm telling you that's how it works! I've seen it with my own eyes." Chase placed his hands around his wheels with a firm grip and mumbled about needing to get back to working out soon. "Anyway, thanks for bringing me out here. I'll…" a sigh, "wheel my way back to the hospital soon enough. I just needed fresh air."

A Pelipper flew overhead, followed by a group of Wingull. One of them passed so close to her she could have snatched it out of the air. Pokemon here were as they were in any other city— they were used to people and content to live their lives in their company. Chase and Cecilia stuck around for a few minutes until her phone rang in her pocket. She was wearing shorts today; shorts that weren't black. Grace had helped her get dressed so she didn't have a horrid mix of colors. What greeted her was a small group chat with Maylene and Grace, one that she had the immediate urge to unravel.

Maylene Suzuki - Hello

Maylene Suzuki - I hope this isnt like

Maylene Suzuki - Forcing anything or whatever.

Maylene Suzuki - Theres a problem with my dad cus he leaked that u were both here ayt the Gym. Hes trying to push the narrative that Grace hurt me so she shouldnt be here and that foreigners shouldnt be involvedin Gym business.

Maylene Suzuki - Its not catching on rn so I wouldnt worry, I just figured Id warn you

Forget everything about any notions of unraveling,
Cecilia thought to herself. This was important.

You - Pathetic. He desperately flails and tries to discredit your leadership because he can't do anything else but salvage his wounded pride.

Maylene Suzuki - Can u 2 come over?

Cecilia waited to see what Grace would say, which resulted in a rather long silence.

Maylene Suzuki - Its not urgent so dw if you cant

Now she was just feeling bad for her. Cecilia pursed her lips.

You - I said I would come over. I'll come over.

Grace - Sorry! I was busy making food for my kids. I'm picking up Honey, Cass and Sweetheart from the Center today so I don't think I can unless your dad is literally there and you need some huge emotional support from yours truly.

Maylene started to type, then stopped and started again. She could not have made her disappointment more obvious.

Maylene Suzuki - Dont worry haha ill be fine.

Maylene Suzuki - I nmean its fine.

You - I am still coming over.

Grace - Good luck Cece! Beat him to death!

Grace - In the marketplace of ideas*

Maylene Suzuki - Ok Cecilia ill send a Kadabra to ur hotel

Grace - Oooh if you're swinging by can you come up? I wanna see you really badly. I'm barely holding on as it is.

Teleportation was convenient, even when it took the fun out of travel. The Unovan looked up from her phone. "Well, I'll be on my way, then."

"Thanks for hanging with me pal," Chase said with a lazy thumbs up. His hospital gown looked terrible on him, she had to admit.

"I'll be busy today, actually, so if you need help, you gotta call one of the others—"

"I'll be fiiiine," he insisted before patting his breast pocket. "My phone's right here, and if something actually happens, some guy or girl's going to feel bad for me and help anyway. You do you and… you know, good luck with your Pokemon." He glanced at the two Pokeballs clipped on her hip and grimaced. "It's gonna take a while, but you're gonna work together again, I believe in you."

A soft smile reached her lips. "Thanks."

She used the tramways to get back to her hotel as fast as she could. Luckily for her, they were running routinely and she didn't have to wait very long. Cecilia's Teleporter was the same Kadabra Maylene had sent before. He still carried that horrid, ragged spoon and still sneered at her whenever she got near. Grace was out of the hotel waiting for her, but she'd been chatting up Kadabra with bright interest in his craft as if it was second nature to her. There was impatience in her face too, though, one that disappeared as soon as she noticed Cecilia.

Warm.

Unbelievably warm as if she'd jumped into a jacuzzi. It started from the throb in her heart and spread throughout her body like an unstoppable force. A tsunami of warmth that heated up further when Cece saw how genuinely glad she was to see her. Grace skipped forward, ignoring the outraged Kadabra, and tackled Cecilia into a tight hug. This was what she'd craved. Her skin against hers. Cecilia squeezed back so tightly that it was as if she wanted the two to meld into one person. Grace was still wearing an apron dirtied by a little flour— had she been making some kind of cake?

Cecilia mind whispered at her to stay for an hour, or two, or more. Maylene could wait, it would tell her. Can you last an afternoon without her? With a goal in mind, she could. The longer it lasted, the more she began to doubt herself. Cecilia's hold loosened, and Grace's tightened in response as if she didn't want to let go.

"I missed you," Grace whispered.

This wasn't good. This really wasn't good.

"I should go," Cecilia said.

"Maybe."

"Not maybe. I have to." Cecilia finally managed to find the strength to leave.

Grace looked at her with an irresistible pout— Legendaries, Cecilia missed seeing her green eyes. She'd been in better spirits since her conversation with that Plasma member and Mallory, though it was fading rather quick. She was still riding that high. "Okay. Guess I'll get back to it, then. Tell Maylene not to feel bad for the leak! She'll beat herself up over it if you don't."

"Will do. You have a good time with your team," Cecilia said.

"And good luck with yours. Especially Zolst," Grace whispered.

You interrupted a wonderful conversation, revenant. I hope you're happy, Kadabra grouched. She didn't bother responding. The psychic inhaled as his eyes lit up and his spoon bent, and in an instant, they were in Veilstone.

The transition between the dull overcast that had covered the League to the radiance of the white sun was so abrupt it was nearly dizzying. At midday, the sun had reached its zenith, a blinding orb amidst the varying shades of gray that formed the skies. Here it was, a ball of burning hot plasma hovering in space, yet having lost all of its golden splendor. The Kadabra was already gone before Cecilia could even thank him. The psychic hated what she'd done to herself and couldn't believe she was still alive.

By all accounts, she should be dead.

Her face soured when she remembered the fight with Jupiter, and Talonflame and Hydreigon's Pokeballs seemed just a little heavier. With a tired exhale, Cecilia made her way inside the Gym. Maylene seemed to have put a receptionist back in the lobby even though it hadn't opened. The girl, who looked to be in her early twenties, did not notice her until she leaned against the Gym's desk and cleared her throat.

She yelped and scrambled to push herself back against her chair until it reached the wall behind her. The small taste of satisfaction Cecilia got was short-lived and immediately replaced by a dull annoyance. She was growing tired of everyone being scared the first time they noticed her.

"Maylene summoned me to meet her here thirty-six minutes ago. I thought she would be here," the Unovan said, trying to be as loud as possible, which wasn't very much. Truth be told, she had expected the Gym Leader to greet her in the lobby like the other day. When the receptionist didn't answer, Cecilia tried changing her expression to a pleasant one. It seemed to work somewhat. "Sorry to bother you, I'm just wondering where I should go to meet her. Were you not warned of my arrival?"

The girl answered with a meek nod. "Uh— y—yes, you— she said she would come down for you." Cecilia frowned. What was her deal, to invite her and then not bother to come when she showed up? "Icancallherifyouwant!" the receptionist blurted out.

"I know where her office is," Cecilia said. Trickery wasn't like Maylene, so something must have happened. "Thank you for the help…" she waited for a name or an introduction of some sort, leaning further into the desk.

None came.

Cecilia gave up and decided she was better off cutting her losses. She would need to practice at things like small talk if she wanted to do well in Unova. It wasn't as if she'd forgotten how. Being sociable was one of the things her tutors had forced into her from the time she'd been a toddler. It was just harder to care now, and everyone looked at her like they'd seen a ghost. At least Professor Juniper sounded like she was over the moon at the opportunity to have her work with her now. She liked new things, and someone resurrected from the dead through a ghostly song was certainly novel. Cecilia hoped her fellow sponsees wouldn't mind her too much.

Lost in thought, she made it to Maylene's office. Her fingers wrapped around the doorknob, which she nearly twisted until she remembered to knock.

"Who is it?!" The voice came back mildly annoyed.

Cecilia silently scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Cecilia."

She was met with silence for nearly five seconds. She heard a little scrape through the door, then a swear and the sound of someone desperately cleaning up a room. Had she lost track of time? That would certainly make more sense than tricking her in some sort of nonsensical love rivalry. All was well. Cecilia decided to pass the time looking at things around the hallway, trying to guess what color things were. Brown for the door, of course. Maybe gray for the ground? They were tiles in most areas. A darker brown for the roof—

"Coming! Just a sec!" Maylene yelled, the voice inching closer with every word. The door swung open and bumped into Cecilia's foot. "Oh my God— Oh, I'm so sorry, crap, crap, crap!" Maylene's eyes frantically alternated between Cecilia's feet and face. "Do you need some ice? I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry."

It did hurt, but pain wasn't that bothersome any more. "One 'I'm sorry' is fine." She peered into the office where stacks of paper had hastily been shoved in drawers they were nearly spilling out of. "I assume you lost track of time."

"Yes, I— I have a lot of work," she said. She was wearing her Gym Uniform, as usual; a blue tank top and white pants. "Luckily they let you up here anyway."

"They weren't supposed to let me up?"

"Well, you're technically not a part of the Gym, so no." Maylene sheepishly scratched the back of her head. "Normally she would have called me and I would have come down, but it's fine!" she hastily said. "Come in, come in. Don't mind the mess. Usually my team keeps me centered at times like these but other than Lucario they're all in Snowpoint helping, so."

"I don't mind. You get used to it living with Grace." The Unovan stepped inside the office, which was actually quite smaller than she expected. There was only enough space for one desk and she felt like she would have gone insane working here for too long. This was smaller than even Pokemon Center rooms, though at least the view over Veilstone was good even if its buildings had none of the elegance of Castelia or Jubilife. The ceiling felt a little low for her, leaving Cecilia somewhat cramped. Her gaze lingered on the window for a second, and Maylene asked about how messy Grace was, exactly.

"She's the type of person who lets things pile up in her room until she can't take it anymore and goes on a huge cleaning binge," Cecilia answered.

"Woah. That's kind of like me!" Maylene beamed. Ugh, now that was something they might bond over; annoying. "Then Lucario pushes me into cleaning things up. Or Machamp. Or Infernape— you know what, all of them except Medicham. She's a slob."

"Do you like working here?" she asked out of the blue. "Not as a Gym Leader, but in this office, I mean."

"Yeah?" Maylene looked out the corridor before she closed the door. "I like empty and enclosed spaces. They make me feel comfy. I picked this office; dad used to work down the hall."

Well, if she said so.

"So. The leak," Cece said.

"Yeah… it's not ideal. Like I said, my Dad's been furious and is trying to undermine me by saying that I let 'strangers' into the Gym during such unprecedented times. It's… not really catching on. Or less than I thought 'cause most of it has to do with some people online being weirded out that I'm friends with Grace." Maylene's face scrunched up. "It probably would have been way different if Veilstone had been bombed though. Oh, and I guess people are wondering what the hell happened to your face." Maylene opened some drawer inside a wall that had been nearly invisible to the naked eye and grabbed a mat that she unfolded and placed on the ground. "A place to sit. I don't have another chair. I could get one if you want."

"Whatever."

Maylene shrank. "What?"

Cecilia stood there, stoic, then remembered that whatever could be taken as rude. "I meant it doesn't matter to me." She slumped down against the comfortable blue mat with a heavy sigh, and Maylene did the same, facing her cross legged. "The leak also doesn't matter to me, really. It was only a matter of time, and while it is annoying to have people wondering about what happened to me, I won't have to suffer the endless questions until I leave the League." She shrugged. "It'll be a while until then. Maybe it'll be out of the public consciousness."

"I still feel sorry… it's my fault. What does— what does Grace think? Did she say anything when you two spoke?" Maylene shuffled against the mat and averted her eyes.

Cece felt her eye twitch in irritation, but she contained the feeling as best she could. "She's worried about other things. She had a conversation with someone that she can't really let go of, at the moment, so she's in rather high spirits. I wouldn't worry for now." Maylene leaned forward, knees up and arms hugging her thighs. "No," Cece said.

"No, what?"

"No, I won't tell you what it was about." Should Grace want to, she could, even if it would make Cece jealous. Just imagining it was pissing her off.

The girl deflated, sagging against her propped up legs. "Hey, I feel like I should apologize for— being so close to her and stuff. I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot." Her feet anxiously tapped against the mat in a nonsensical rhythm. "I know you're her girlfriend, but I was close to her despite that. Like, physically. That hug the day my dad came over? I saw how it angered you but I kept going anyway, so I'm sorry."

Had it been anyone else— Pauline, Emilia, Mira, or any other girl— honestly it wouldn't have bothered her. The issue was that Maylene was interested in Grace romantically, so her apology wasn't very effective, even if Cece knew she meant it.

"She's a great person, even if she's a little broken. That makes me want to help fix her." Maylene smiled, and her legs flattened against the mat. Blushing, she twirled her fingers together. "She tries her best to be better, and that's admirable. I wanted to tell you that I just wanted to be friends with her. Good friends, but nothing more. I don't— I don't even swing that way, so I won't come in-between you two."

Cecilia squinted. Oh, you sweet summer child.

Surprisingly, she wanted to grab Maylene by the shoulders to shake and drag her into reality; luckily she stopped herself before she could make that mistake. The last thing she wanted to do was rock the boat— what if she was abandoned for her?

"And— and even if I did a little, theoretically, just because two people are gay doesn't mean they can't be friends," Maylene said. So at least she wasn't that clueless, just pretending for the safety of her own heart. "Again, that's just a hypothetical. If you tell me to, I'll back off, and, uh, I'll be fine."

She was so brazen, and yet so clueless about it! "That hug came after you'd faced your dad," Cecilia said, making sure each one of her words was curated not to hurt. "It did irritate me, but it was fine. You needed a shoulder to lean on. If he shows up again, I would just suck it up." What was she doing? She could have told her to screw off and never have to deal with her again. Her instincts screamed at her to retract her words. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't make it an everyday occurrence."

Damn it. She bit down on her tongue to stop herself from snapping. Cecilia was certain she would come to regret her inaction, but she had no choice. This girl had no one else to rely on; all of her coworkers were too busy to show up consistently. Without Grace as a pillar of support, she would collapse and her Gym would go with her, which would open up an opportunity for Oscar. She could absolutely not let him win.

Legendaries, what a mess. They were so tangled up, the three of them. Less so Maylene and Cecilia, but the fact that they were talking today meant that they were, even if it was through Grace. Coronet and the Distortion World had scarred them all. Cecilia had been mulling over how she could possibly fix her own issues, but the only solutions she came up with would tear her apart and open up an opportunity for Maylene to slide herself into her spot—

The Gym Leader let go of a breath and relaxed. "Got it. Thanks." There was a little nervous laugh. "Whew, Arceus I was so nervous about this talk. I thought you'd— well, nevermind. Thanks for being so nice to me," she said. "Uh, if I asked you to stick around today, would you?"

Cecilia raised an eyebrow. "I expected you to ask. You wouldn't have told me to come by just for a leak that could have been discussed on the phone."

Maylene blinked. "Woah. You look like Grace when you do that."

"Do what?"

"That eyebrow thing— nevermind." She shook her head in dismissal. "I kind of need help to figure out how to step forward. Lucario is still here and could help, but he's… we were raised together. He's my brother. We think too similarly, and I was hoping to get someone who's a little different to help me."

"Help you do what? I'm no Gym Leader, I have no idea how to even begin to run a Gym."

"I just need you to help me be a judge of character," Maylene blurted out. "And maybe to bounce ideas off of you, just to help me think."

"Ah yes, Denzel is the same." Cecilia felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought of her friend, still in a medically induced coma because the pain would have been too much for him to bear if he were awake. Hopefully they would wake him up soon. "Very well. I will stick around, but I want something else in exchange," Cecilia said.

Maylene was clearly eager to help. "What is it? If it's within my capabilities, I'll do whatever I can."

"I need to use your arena if I can; an empty one is fine," she said. "If you can guarantee me privacy, I would appreciate it. If not, I'll find somewhere else."

A nod. "I can."

"And is it alright if there is some… damage dealt to the field?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's not like anyone's using it anyway. Knock yourself out."

"Thank you, Maylene," Cecilia said, leaning forward. She crawled on all fours toward Maylene, who squealed and reddened when Cecilia snatched her by the wrist. "Now, your aura. Show it to me."

Maylene must have blinked twenty times within five seconds. "W—what?"

"I want to see color again, and this is the perfect opportunity. Show it to me," she deadpanned.

"You can't just ask that so openly—" Maylene cut herself off and looked up at her, breathless. She wasn't short by any means, but Cecilia might have made her feel cornered due to how irritated she was at their previous conversation. "F—fine. Just be quick about it."

"This is a favor you owe me; I'll be as quick as I want to be."

On Maylene's slender finger, a flame of aura flickered to life, dancing with ethereal hues of ever-changing light blues. It gently radiantly pulsed with a mesmerizing cadence, casting subtle shadows that played across the office. Even the light it emitted basked the room in color, akin to some kind of lightshow. Cecilia stayed fixated on the flame for Arceus knows how long, her hand clamped down on Maylene's wrist that was growing sweatier by the second. The flame was growing more agitated too. Wilder, fraying right beneath Cecilia's eyes like a living thing cowering from her gaze. She could barely remember when something had her undivided attention like this. The sight was just so tantalizing that she almost wanted to touch the flame despite knowing it would burn her like last time. It was as if she'd been entranced.

"Can you make it a different color?" Cecilia asked.

Maylene took a bit to answer. She was still blushing and breathing harshly, as if she put any significance in this other than Cecilia needing to remember what seeing a color looked like.

"I—I don't think so? I mean, if it is, I've never heard of it. It's always just been blue," she mumbled, occasionally mixing up her words.

"What's with you?" Cecilia asked. "I grab your hand a little and you're squirming and stumbling over words. Legendaries." She let go of the wrist, and you'd think Maylene had been drowning, with how greedily she sucked in air. If Grace ever did this to her, the girl might actually die. "What's next, blushing if we ever drink from the same cup?"

"Wh—what, you asked me to see my aura! That's a— that's a very private part of my being! It represents who I am! You don't just—"

"Who cares, I've seen it already anyway," she dryly said.

"That's different!" Maylene clamored. "You asked me— you asked directly! In a room while we were alone!"

Cecilia ignored Maylene's antics and spoke again, "thank you; we can get to work, now." The Gym Leader gripped her shirt where her heart should have been, causing Cecilia to roll her eyes as she loomed over Maylene, who was heaving with each breath. "Listen, it doesn't mean anything. You're making stories up in your head out of nothing. I just used you to see blue again; it's as simple as that. I am not interested in anything further in any way, shape or form. Got it?" She glared, slightly angered at the idea that she'd asked for something culturally significant without knowing. If Maylene was going to be weird about it and make her uncomfortable, she wouldn't do it again, lest the girl get any ideas. Ri would be out of the Pokemon Center sometime this week, after all.

Maylene gulped, finally having recovered from her little crisis. "Got it. It was just intense and so out of nowhere… I'm straight."

Intense? All she'd done was look at a finger.

"Whatever you say; I believe you." Cecilia sat back down on the mat opposite of Maylene a little further, now. "Now, you wanted to bounce ideas off of me for your Gym. Bounce. Them." She might have let her frustration into that, from the way Maylene winced.

"Sorry, um, yeah, let me just get my thoughts in order." Maylene straightened herself against the wall and adjusted her collar, calling Arceus' name more times than Cecilia could count. "Um, you know, we can do it again. I won't be weird if I'm prepared—"

"No."

"But I—"

"I said no." She finally found it within herself to be loud and forceful, this time. "Are we going to work, or are we going to linger on something that doesn't matter? Because if it's the latter, I'll see myself out." Cecilia would lament the fact that she wouldn't be able to use an empty arena (all the ones at the League were closed or not built up yet, even for her), but she'd make due without it. If Zolst had been open to letting her fly on him to some wild mountain this wouldn't have been an issue in the first place. They needed a place in private where they could talk.

"Sorry, I'll stop bringing it up."

"Good." A small silence settled in, as if Maylene didn't know how to begin, so Cecilia took the lead. "Let's start with your father. Beyond the leak and his desperate, yet futile attempt at relevance, has he done anything else?"

"He was still logged into the Gym's email and he was still answering stuff for me, so I had to change the password. I haven't told it to anyone else, so it should be safe," Maylene said with a hint of annoyance. "Aside from that, I'm pretty sure he's in contact with some of my Gym Trainers."

Cecilia scoffed. "Childish pranks beneath his standing, as expected of people like him when they lose all leverage— well, not all leverage."

"I was getting to that. Cecilia, I— I don't know how I should take back control of my own Gym," Maylene heartily confessed. "He's gone, but it's like his shadow just suffocates and looms over everything."

"One can't undo decades of building a cult of personality with one order," the Unovan said with a tilt of her head. "Tell me, when do you plan on reopening the Gym?"

"Two weeks, give or take. Once Snowpoint is at least back on its feet, we can start opening up for a few hours per day, then we can ramp up until we're back at full capacity."

"This leaves you with a prime opportunity for some spring cleaning."

Maylene's expression went from nervous to confused. "Spring cleaning?"

"A purge, if you will."

The girl instantly denied. "No, no, I can't fire people! They have jobs, and families to take care of, especially now! And, like, logistically it'd be a nightmare. I'd have to replace them little by little, but people would catch on pretty quick, and good luck motivating people who know they're going to get fired to work."

"How purehearted," she dryly said. "But fair, you know better than I do and what you've said makes sense. Continuing on this angle, though, how many new people have you hired since your father left to Alola?"

Maylene held out a hand and counted on her fingers. "Um, let's see. I guess three new people— eight if you include replacing the people that quit since then."

"And how many Gym Trainers do you have in total?"

"Eighty-two. We have other people on payroll like technicians, janitors, PR people— but they're nowhere as involved in Gym Life as the Trainers."

Cecilia tapped a finger on her arm. "So you're telling me that the vast, vast majority of these people are from your father's administration of the Gym?"

Maylene's head jerked back. "Well— I didn't want to upstage my dad because he—"

"I'm sorry, I phrased that wrong," Cece said, instantly stricken by guilt. Her brusque wording could use some work, especially with someone as emotionally tender as this. "It's not your fault."

The Gym Leader nodded with a pained smile stretched across her visage. "With the power of hindsight I would have hired more people and maybe weaned out some of my dad's most ardent supporters sooner. We have the least amount of employees in a Sinnohan Gym anyway because— well, dad used to handle most things himself and wanted me to do the same."

Maylene went on to talk about Gym hiring practices and how her father would have the most demanding requirements if you wanted to get hired, which was something she had since changed. As it turned out, Volkner also had the most Gym Trainers by far and Maylene didn't hesitate to complain about how Sunyshore was a money sink because he was too lazy to do the job himself. Cecilia was content to let her talk so she could cheer up after her blunder.

"Why don't you look to hire more people, then?" Cecilia asked.

"I considered it— but, like…" she groaned and threw her hands up. "I don't want the Gym to be a burden on Sinnoh's finances. In Sinnoh, we all run at a loss and our costs are covered by the government, but right now? The country doesn't need any more on its plate."

Cecilia peered at her, almost like she was dissecting Maylene. She was starting to understand who she was, and who she'd been. Of course, she'd known the big picture. Maylene had been raised and abused by her dad to fill in his shoes, and as a result she had burned out in a desperate act to please him et cetera, et cetera.

What was new was that she'd never really stopped to think how that had just killed her confidence in any decision-making. Cecilia could empathize given that she was plagued with doubt, even if today was one of her good days again due to the fact that she was helping a girl win against her abusive father. Motivation was something she was rarely short of, in cases such as these, but even before her death, back when all of this had started, she'd been content to just let her father rule her life until Grace and Denzel had stepped into the picture and changed her life for the better.

"I think we need to find another way. A way to manage with just the resources I have, at the moment." She rubbed her face with her hands and groaned. "Ugh, I just want to be the best Gym Leader I can be. I love this job. I want to make it work."

"Hesitation isn't always bad; it's a sign that you're giving something enough thought, and that's important. Especially for a Gym Leader," Cecilia said. "But you're beyond that. You're stuck in decisional paralysis and it's hampering your ability to run this Gym." She let the words sink in and kept going. "You don't want to fire anyone— even the people responsible for the leaks— you don't want to hire new people to shift the balance in your favor slightly, so what can you do? Find it. Consider this, Maylene. Your inaction now might cost more resources in the long term than incurring a short term loss right now. In an effort to please everyone, you might please no one at all."

Maylene wanted to fight her; Cecilia could tell from how her shoulders hunched up. "I think you might be right," she said. "I—I have an idea, then. A step one of some sorts. It'll need your help, still."

"Sure, what do I have to do?"

Maylene smirked. "Just stand behind me."



The third of who knew how many Gym Trainers hesitantly stepped inside of Maylene's office. This one was the youngest yet, which was still a man in his thirties; the most unique part about him was his droopy eyes. He sported the usual Gym Trainer uniform for Veilstone, a short-sleeved shirt with an orange and white motif with a Pokeball embroidered on his chest, and orange jogging pants that were so baggy Cecilia couldn't see the outline of his legs. The moment he stared at Cece, he tensed up and swallowed the words he'd been about to say. She was standing with her hands behind her back behind Maylene's desk, her body unmoving.

Cecilia was content to be a human Intimidate, if Maylene needed it to negotiate. Apparently word of her attempting to choke Oscar to death had gotten around the Gym and had given her quite the fearsome reputation, not because they thought she'd be able to actually kill him (though some people were saying that she might be an actual ghost, somehow), but that she had dared in the first place. It'd be annoying if it ever got out of the Gym's ecosystem. It looked like she was a few inches taller than this one; height worked well for fear-based tactics, she had found.

"Darius, welcome, welcome. Sit down," Maylene said, gesturing with her hand. She'd even put on her fingerless gloves for this to appear as official as possible. "Don't mind Cecilia, she's a friend. I bet you know her, though."

The so-called 'Darius' cleared his throat, dragged the chair they'd brought up here and plopped himself into it. He plucked at some dead skin on his thumb— a nervous tic, no doubt. Every so often, he would glance back at her and she would stand there, unblinking, unmoving, until he shrank into his chair like having her here was just uncomfortable.

Was she really that bad?

Regardless, Darius was one of the oldest and most long-worked Gym Trainers at the Veilstone Gym, given that Oscar had hired him at the ripe age of sixteen straight out of his first Circuit. Maylene already had his file open, which she was idly looking through as a pressure tactic.

"Darius, how have you liked working for me these past… coming up on two years, now? A year and a half."

"It's been fantastic. Really, Leader Maylene." He dipped his head in respect, something which was usually only done for Oscar. Cecilia caught Maylene's displeasure, but the Gym Leader couldn't cut him off now that she had the momentum. "You're so young, yet with your skill and upbringing, you've been able to steer Veilstone and its Gym through troubling times…"

Maylene closed his folder and threw it on her desk. "My upbringing. Let's talk about it, then," she said with a smile as fake as plastic. "Oscar handed me the reins when he decided that knocking someone up was more important than people like you. People who live here. In fact, he was so obsessed with his new wife that he let Team Galactic build a base under our feet. So let's talk about why you're making it so difficult to run this Gym without any interference from outsiders."

"A house divided against itself cannot stand," Cecilia added. She noticed that Darius relaxed slightly when she spoke and made a note of that; it was the second time it had happened. It appeared she was more effective when silent, as if speaking made them remember that she was still human.

"Leader Maylene—"

She clicked her tongue. "No, I'm not finished. Medicham overheard you talking about how you hope you get back to the 'good old days' with some of your colleagues the day after my father came back. Coincidentally, our cameras have shown that you've been texting a whole lot lately. You're usually so focused on your job that I had to wonder what was going on." She paused and drummed her fingers against her desk, as if she was in her element. She was gentle, yet stern. In charge, yet not overbearing. "My father's been trying to put down roots here. Let me ask you straight up, would you rather see him as a Gym Leader? You're free to speak your mind; I won't fire you no matter what you say despite what my friend here thinks." Maylene nudged her head toward Cecilia.

Honesty and mercy, Cecilia had learned these last interviews, went a long way to make people honest in turn. There were few things more loyal than a man who you'd spared despite having every right to kill him— though in this case, it was fire.

"It's complicated." He rubbed his chin in contemplation. "You have to understand that I— he's the one who taught me everything I know. I understand that you're the Gym Leader; I don't want you to step down, but I thought that he could help around the Gym. That he'd be what we needed to cheer up the place. I figured he'd be the— yes, glue's the word. The glue we needed."

"And now you are aware that he's trying to undermine me at every turn," she said, her tone somehow still warm. "My father's no man for compromise. With him, things always have to go his way. You know that."

Darius grimaced, but nodded.

"So you understand that your childish need for some sort of nostalgic, non-existent golden age has jeopardized my ability to run this Gym."

"That's… I guess so, Leader Maylene. I accept full responsibility for my actions."

"Good! Now, I am giving you one last chance," with each word, she tapped her desk with her knuckles. "Stop trying to get Oscar back in, and this'll all be swept under the rug. I will catch on eventually if you do. Just be what the Veilstone Gym needs right now: a good employee. Am I clear? Don't make me regret this."

"Yes, Leader Maylene—"

"And stop bowing down to me. This is your job, not some old Kalosian court," she groaned. "We're all people here."

Once they were done, Maylene told Darius to call in the next person on her list. Darius hastily left the office, thanking her five times for this chance. When you'd worked somewhere as long as him, Cecilia guessed, the prospect of quitting or being fired might as well have been a death sentence. As soon as they were alone again, all of the fake strength and poise Maylene had been projecting left her body, and she lay down on her desk with her head on her arms.

"Ugh, I hate ultimatums like this, but at least it went well." Her voice was muffled by her speaking face down against her desk. "How did I do?"

"Just like last time, I believe it went well. Better than how you fumbled with Joe, at least," Cecilia said. Maylene had let the first person she'd called in walk all over her until Cecilia had forced her to get her wits about her.

"Once the older Gym Trainers stop pushing to replace me with my dad or trying to get him involved in the Gym, it'll diffuse down the ranks. Or hopefully it will, they have a lot of influence," Maylene said.

Cecilia inclined her head in acquiescence. While Maylene hadn't taken much of her advice, she couldn't deny that she'd been of use here today. Hopefully Maylene would be able to do this without her from today forth. The goal was independence for her. The Unovan was learning here as well. Learning how to handle positions of leadership first-hand in a way that couldn't be imagined in her notes or daydreamed in her head.

Yes, Cecilia thought as she smiled, this would do just fine.



Afternoon waned when Cecilia made her way to the Gym's arena, two Pokeballs on her hip. It felt odd, being here without the crowd filling the elevated bleachers on each side of the field. Maylene's arena was a simple one: a relatively flat field of earth and rocks. Cecilia had heard that she was planning on renovating it next Circuit to better represent the fighting type, though Cece had no idea what that implied. Her mind wasn't built to be a Gym Leader, but Maylene could talk on and on about it.

The arena was silent; there wasn't even a Kadabra in sight. Instead of making her way up the stairs toward the metallic, raised platform trainers stood on, she kept walking into the arena. The earth felt hard underneath her feet as she traveled all the way to the center, basking in the sight her Pokemon had seen many times before. There was a small stirring within her; the embers of a passion for battle that still remained. Maybe once she figured out how to fix things with her team, she would start training again. The Conference would be good experience, if anything.

Talonflame's Pokeball filled her palm, but it did the same for her heart, only with waves of guilt so powerful they were nearly debilitating. It was different now that they were out of the Distortion World. Things were normal, now. She had no excuse not to confront her mistakes when she let her Pokemon out.

She sharply sucked in the warm air through her teeth.

"I better put my money where my mouth is," she said, almost so quiet she would have been inaudible to anyone next to her. She'd given Maylene advice about decisional paralysis, yet it was that same paralysis that haunted her. Not just for her team, but for her other issues as well. "Okay. Okay, let's do this."

Talonflame would be a little easier to handle, if anything. Red bled into the world; shaping itself into her until she was out of her Pokeball. The flying type blinked a few times, yet her gaze softened when she saw Cecilia alive and well. She tried to bring a hand closer to Talonflame to scratch the hot skin beneath her feathers, but her Pokemon flinched away and the moment was gone.

Much work had to be done. An apology, no matter how much she meant it, would not cut it.

"Remember this place?" Cecilia asked. "This is Veilstone's Gym. I figured it would be needed for the conversation I'm about to have with Zolst."

Talonflame nodded sagely, as if to commend her for the good idea. She chirped, something soft she rarely showed to people she wasn't close to. The worry in it was palpable.

"I'll be fine, he won't hurt me. He'll be careful," Cecilia said. "But I need to talk to you as well. I will ask you right away, do you no longer want to be with me?"

The fire type squawked indignantly, flapping her wings with enough strength to propel the small pebbles on the ground. The wind felt slightly sharp against her legs and arms— her stitches felt tight on her face as she grimaced. Cecilia could not help but think that she did not deserve her. Talonflame had always been level-headed to a fault— able to analyze the pros and the cons of a situation. Her responses were rarely so emotional, which meant that she truly wanted to stick around.

"Then how do I make it up to you?" Her voice was so small. So weak. Desperation gripped and shook her enough to bring her to her knees. "How do I fix things between us? I so desperately want to?"

She had asked them to work in tandem to get her killed.

She had asked Lehmhart to kill her, and made Slowking work to convince him.

She had thrown it all away without hesitation. Without a modicum of regret until the end came.

"Can I even fix things?" she asked. "Or will this shadow haunt us for decades to come? My entire life?"

Talonflame tilted her head and pecked at Cecilia's knee. A strict coo coaxed her ears, as if to tell Cecilia to not let defeatism grip her so, or something akin to that. Deep down, Cecilia knew Talonflame wouldn't have the answers she sought. There was no pros and cons list to be made, no apology powerful enough, no way to twirl a wand and make it all go away. The flying type extended her wings and took to the air; a bright ball of fire and feathers whose colors Cecilia could no longer appreciate, and Talonflame sang. The flames carried her voice, which was accentuated by their roar. Dust and rocks picked up in a flaming cyclone below the flying type. Cecilia felt the heat wash over her, yet it still did not warm her core.

"I think I understand," she said. "You are asking me to see you."

Her voice had been quiet through the fire, yet Talonflame's hearing was just as good as her eyesight.

"To make time for you. To live with you. To train with you. To travel with you," Cecilia said, finally understanding "You want me to be a trainer again, with all the banality that entails."

The flames cut off, winking out of existence like a candle between two fingers. With small embers still flickering on her wings, Talonflame rushed back down and wrapped her wings around Cecilia. The heat still emanated from her feathers, but not enough to burn.

Cece caressed the side of Talonflame's face with a smile. "I get it. I will be better from now on, and as soon as the rest of the team is out of the Pokemon Center I'll—"

Her throat tightened.

"I'll—"

It wouldn't come out. The promise to go out on her own with her team was stuck, unable to be vocalized.

"I'll see what I can do to get them to agree." A lie smothered in half-truths; she had learned well from Grace. "Allow me to speak with Zolst next."

While Talonflame wanted to stay out in case the dragon got too rowdy and she needed some wind to knock back debris, Cecilia was convinced a one-on-one conversation was what they needed for them to ever begin to see eye to eye. The respect lost if Cecilia had a protector with her would be massive.

"You mustn't forget that he's also mad at all of you for accepting the plan to kill me," Cecilia said. "While he would never hurt me, he might attack you if provoked."

Satisfied with that answer, Talonflame accepted her terms and melted back into her ball. With a deep breath and a countdown, Cecilia released Hydreigon far enough for her to be certain there would be no accidents, but not far enough as to be too distant. The dark type was a hulking mass of scale and muscle, a creature that embodied raw power barely contained that you could see pulse out of him in thin lines. Each of his six wings moved individually, sometimes bumping into each other. From Zolst's central head, a menacing growl rumbled while his two other heads roared with a barely contained rage that sent spittle and the smell of dragonfire wafting throughout the battlefield.

Cecilia's hair flew back, and she wiped saliva with her thumb. "It's me again, Zolst. The Nurse Joys said you gave them trouble—"

Instantly, light built up in the right head's mouth. Before Cecilia's brain even registered what was going on, a burst of energy hit to her left, digging and digging into the earth until all that was left was smoldering mud.

Cecilia did not flinch. Dying once came with losing that fear, for better or worse— not that she thought the dragon would ever hurt her. If she had, she wouldn't have been doing this.

"Which one was that? Ten percent? No, eight, maybe." She circled around Hydreigon as she questioned him. "Dragon Breath, surely. It's difficult to tell without color, but it was less orderly and wilder than a Dragon Pulse. It's been a while since you've had to use that, Zolst."

Another Dragon Breath hit where she would have walked in ten steps, this one slightly stronger. The left head snapped and tried to attack the right, as if to bite its neck and get its attacks to be stronger. They were conscious, but animalistic, Cecilia knew. Nothing like the central head which was the one in charge. They usually didn't fight this hard— Cecilia's death might have affected them all, not just Zolst. The bickering continued until Zolst blew another weak Dragon Breath on his left head, which grunted in pain and was left somewhat burned.

Slowly but surely, Cecilia was circling, yet approaching Zolst. "I won't tell you I'm sorry, even though I am. I spoke with Talonflame before this." Cecilia explained the flying type's plan as quickly as she could, not even getting interrupted by each strike growing closer and more intense. The remaining heat of a crater left next to her was a painful singe on her legs. He wasn't on board. "I'm not telling you to forgive me now. That would be foolish— I just want you to give me another chance. I know you're angry at the others, but you should focus on me. I gave the order. I let it get to that point. I promise I will never betray you again. So please."

She was close enough, now. Standing on her tiptoes, Cecilia outstretched a hand and slowly brought it over Zolst's head. She could see the doubt in his eyes— not that doubt at his anger, but the doubt at what he should do next. Hydreigon opened his mouth and a brighter, fiercer, unyielding force burst from his skin. The flames, she knew, would have been turquoise once.

This was a test. He was asking her if she was worthy of his respect, and therefore a second chance. The draconic energy was not painful, not beyond the feeling of touching hot pavement, but the true test was the insidious need to bow her head; the defeatism spreading through her; the feeling that she was about to be conquered.

Standing around him when she'd been an aspect of Willpower had been much easier. Cecilia's knees buckled, but she steeled herself. A sharp inhale, then—

She never got to touch him.

All of his head whirled to the side and the fire intensified until Cecilia fell to her knees, which scraped against the earth. Hydreigon lunged forward, and it took Cece a few seconds to gather the courage to turn her head, she saw the three-headed dark type halfway through the field, barrelling toward a Lucario. Her head, still foggy from Zolst, went to Ri first before she realized this was Maylene's and that she was standing right there. The possibility of a looming accident got her to think straight and she whipped out Zolst's Pokeball and recalled him before he could get to Lucario and his trainer. Aura had been surging around the steel type's skin, blue yet dimmer than what she'd come to expect.

Her throat was dry with the taste of defeat.

This had been her chance, and she'd blown it.

It was however many seconds later that Maylene ran up without Lucario with her. "Cecilia, are you okay?" She tried to give Cecilia a hand, but the Unovan knocked it away.

"What," she slowly said, her voice frigid, "are you doing here?"

It was only then that Maylene must have realized she'd done something wrong; her face fell into a million pieces. "Lu—Lucario was passing in one of the nearby hallways and sensed something wrong," she scrambled for an excuse, and Cece slowly stood up. Her body felt limp. "Then he told me that you were getting attacked—"

"You spied on me!" Cecilia lashed out.

"No! I wanted to make sure you were be okay!" Maylene yelled. A sorry excuse. "You can't just— it looked like you were in danger! I thought you were going to talk to your Pokemon and maybe train—"

"I. Was. Talking!" Cecilia took a step forward, her face twisting into a menacing scowl. Then another. Then another until Maylene's back was against the wall and Cecilia slammed her hand right next to her head. "Zolst is my Pokemon," she hissed. "What gives you the idea that you would know how we communicate? What gives you the right to assume that there is a correct way to do it or not?!"

"Lucario heard explosions and sensed aggressiveness that was way too real to be—"

"And now my attempt at rebuilding the bridge is ruined," Cecilia sighed, her domineering ways rapidly disappearing. Her hand slid off the wall and went limp against her side. "So utterly ruinous," she muttered to herself. "I don't know if I will get another chance like this any time soon."

"I'm sorry, Cece. I really thought you needed help—"

"Don't call me Cece," she snapped. "I'm leaving. I'll wait for Kadabra in front of the Gym." She hastily turned and began to stomp away. "Text me if there's anything else with your father. Have a great rest of your day and good luck with your employees," she tersely said.

More work was needed to mend what she'd broken.

Hard choices would have to be made, but for now, she wanted to see Grace.

Thank you to my Patreons - Spandaz, Alex Walters, ObsidianOlive, A Ferret, Oblige, Joe, Emilowish, Sean, Tim Schmidt, Dim, Violett T, Kail H, dragonslaver, Jon, RosaC, TsukiNoNeko, NPM, Jim A, Spicyice101, Vesperal, Iota, Addmolition exe, Frogsamurai, Alex F, Kiri, Rhuodric, Nord, Filthymacgyver, Grey J, creativityfails, Spartanstoryteller, Peter D, Bum, Zaire M, Plasmatique, Lodris, Chester, AnotherUser, BeautifulBusinessBoi, Papito12495, KeMon C, Geo, Pedro B, Rat, LR Brantley, ZZStrider, Sharkerxjak, Quakdoktor, nothingtoseehere, Mystic Corn, Paul S, coolblue, Ole W, Daniel J, Cosimo, Nick S, Pharros, Michael J, Jan, ChairmanK-, William F, Zhijia, Andy S, HeyMrJack, NineXO, Exceedes, Gustavo S, Serina T, lepton, sqw4l, Micah T, L'iien, Kisekibigdumb, Nikolai M, David G, endgame13, JK, Ian R, Rain, Jason H, Scandalion, ACertainName, Cosimo Yap
 
Last edited:
Back
Top